#we might not be going to washington. we might just end up going back to the beach which im happy with SJSJSJS

[thebleedingeffect]

It's absolutely wild listening to my stepbrother get into arguments with my mom and step-dad cause it's the most terrible teenage years rn and being 16 does NOT look good on him lmao

[atomicami]

quick fix

contractor!abby anderson x joel’s daughter!reader

- summary: in which joel and jerry have a constant rivalry with their contracting businesses. as a result, you’ve had to abide by your dad’s rule to stay away from jerry’s daughter, abby. you follow along at first, but when your TV stops working on the day you’re hosting a movie night, you might have to break that rule.

- content: smut MDNI, porn with plot, no outbreak/modern au, texas living, no sarah, joel & jerry are both alive (he’s not a doctor in this), contractor/engineer!abby (women in stem 🔛🔝), reader has a business degree, family and work drama, oral & fingering (r!receiving), squirting, kinda softdom!abby, reader and abby almost getting caught, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything

- author’s note: i’ve been wanting to do an abby fic with this specific pairing for a while now so i hope y’all like it! if this one goes well i might make a second part to it.

Your father was never the competitive type when it came to his job. Joel’s been known to be a humble person while still taking pride in his hard work. In all fairness, he did spend so many years of his life forming one of the biggest contracting companies in Texas alongside with his brother, and ever since you were a kid, you’ve wanted to take part in it as well. Business was running perfectly for your dad, he felt like everything was going according to plan every single day.

That is…until about four years ago, when a contractor from Washington moves into your neighborhood with his daughter with the intention of expanding his company to a second state. Joel didn’t think of anything at first when this happened. Texas is known to be one of the best states for business, he completely understood the other man’s intentions to come reside over here.

However, things started to go downhill a couple of weeks after the father-daughter pair moved in. You were at work with your dad doing customer calls for him. Things were going good so far until the phone began to ring from your end. You reach over to your desk and pick up the phone, holding it up to your ear.

“Miller Contracting, how can I help you?” You greeted into the phone. “You’d like to speak with Joel?“ Your dad was in the same room as you, working on some blueprints, lifting his head up towards your direction once he had heard his name. You had done the same, motioning for him to come over. “Yeah…Yeah I can put him on with you.” He was now by your side by the time you finished that sentence, taking the phone from your hands and answering it. “Miller Contracting, this is Joel.” he addressed into the phone, turning around so he’s slightly leaning back onto the edge of the desk.

“Mr. Jones! I was just workin’ on the blueprints for the project you wanted—wait, what?”

You remained seated at your desk next to your dad as the conversation kept going, seeing his expression change completely over what the client was telling him. You were even able to hear what the client had said through the receiver of the phone:

“I’m sorry Joel, but we’ve decided to go with Anderson Contracting to work on the project for us…We’ve heard so many good things about Jerry’s work in Seattle, and we really want what’s best for—“

Your dad didn’t even let the man finish his sentence as he immediately hung up the phone. You could tell that he was already fuming after finding out what had just happened. He was totally fine with Jerry settling here with his company, as long as he’d find his own fucking clients to work with instead of stealing his. Joel knew at that moment that in order to prevent himself from losing any more clients, he needed to take action. Ever since that day, he’s had a four year long rivalry with the other contractor, both of them making the attempts to see who can not only get the most clients, but also the best ones to work with.

Fast forward to today, and you’ve graduated from college this year with a degree in business administration, now dedicating yourself full time in helping out with your father’s contracting company. And as you’d expect, Jerry Anderson, the man your dad refers to as his competition remains living across the street from you with his daughter Abigail, who also stuck with the same plan as you after graduating college in terms of helping out her dad with his company as well. But given the bad blood that your dads have with each other, you two had to abide by their rule to not be anywhere near each other.

“Listen to me sweetheart, you stay away from Anderson’s kid, alright? Her daddy can take away as many clients as he wants, but I sure as hell ain’t letting his daughter take you away from me.”

“Abby, I don’t care who you end up with, as long as it’s not with Joel Miller’s daughter. Can you promise me that?”

And so you both did. For four years and counting, you and Abby have made the efforts to stay as far away from each other despite how difficult it may have been for you both.

However, you might have to be the one to break that streak when your living room TV stops working.

“So you’re sayin’ that it just won’t turn on?” Your dad asked you through the phone.

“Yeah…I don’t know what’s wrong with it.” You replied, pressing the on button of the TV remote again. You could see the little red light flashing on the remote, but the TV still wouldn’t budge.

“Did ya try flippin’ the breaker outside?”

“No…everything else in the house is working except the TV…I think something’s just wrong with the outlet that’s it’s plugged into. Do you think you can try to come by for a moment and fix it?”

You heard your dad let out a sigh through the phone. You already knew what he was going to say next.

“M’sorry sweetie, but I’ve been so caught up at work today…been trying to perfect a project for this client lately. N’ I don’t want Anderson to try n’ steal this one from me. I’ll try n’ see if I can stop by real quick durin’ my break, alright?”

“Yeah, I get it…I’ll just…try and wait til you get home. Love you dad.”

You sighed as you hung up the phone, completely helpless. It could’ve been any other day where the TV stops working and you wouldn’t really care about it. But today you were hosting a movie night with your girlfriends. You took the day off from work ahead of time to prepare and had already spent the past hour making a large charcuterie board that was currently taking up space in the fridge. You had been planning this movie night for weeks with your friend group only for it to possibly get canceled.

All because the stupid TV wasn’t working.

You looked back down at your phone, opening the group chat with your friend group to break the news to them. As your fingers hovered over the keyboard, an idea came upon your midst. You turned around to look through the window, eyeing the cream colored house that stood across from yours.

Now, at this very moment you have two options:

You could tell your friends that movie night will be postponed, and wait for your dad to come back from work to fix the TV outlet.

Or…

You could make the attempt to cross the street and ask Abigail Anderson, the girl you’ve been keeping yourself away from for over four years per your dad’s request, to come by and fix the outlet for you.

For some reason, part of you was leaning towards the second option. Except you really didn’t want to break your dad’s promise.

But then again…Abby does have a lot of experience with the actual hands on work in contracting. After all, she did graduate at the top of the class just like you, except with a degree in civil engineering instead. Not to mention she has her contractor’s license just like her dad and yours. Fixing an electrical outlet should be a piece of cake for her.

You hesitate for a moment, pacing around your living room as you try and gather the courage to leave the house and cross the street. This task shouldn’t take long…it’s just a quick fix, right?

Walking over to the front door, you take a deep breath and step outside, making sure to lock your door in case anything happens before crossing the street. Once you approach the driveway of her house, you see the two Ford pickup trucks parked outside. This meant that both Abby and her father were home right now.

You make it to the front door of Abby’s house, and hesitate once again before ringing the bell. You pray silently to yourself that it’ll be her answering the door, and not her dad. Once the door opens, you look up to your prayers being answered as she stands right in front of you, her eyes widening in shock once she sees you.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” she exclaims, trying to keep her own voice down to not get her father’s attention.

“Look, I know we’re supposed to be away from each other, But I really need your help.” You let out a sigh before continuing your explanation. “The outlet in my TV isn’t working, and I need it to be ready for a movie night that I’m hosting this evening… but my dad’s been too busy at work to stop by and fix it…could you please fix it for me?”

Abby shook her head in response. “I’m not even supposed to be talking to you right now, let alone be inside your house. Can’t you just call an electrician or something?”

Damn, why didn’t you think of that as an option? Could it be because you wanted Abby to be the one fixing the outlet for you instead of some random guy? Probably….

You shook your head, trying to come up with an excuse on the spot. “These electricians take forever to arrive, and my friends will be here any minute now. Please…? It should just be a quick fix….”

Abby opened her mouth to say something before she was interrupted by the sound of her father calling her from inside.

“Abby! Who’s at the door?”

“Shit…” she muttered, quickly looking over her shoulder before back at you. “Okay, I’ll do it…just stay there for a moment.” She briefly closed the door before soon returning after a couple minutes, now with her tool belt wrapped around her cargo pants. “I had to tell him it was Manny…you know that my dad doesn’t want me to be seen with you.” she said in a slightly stern tone as both of you began to cross the street to your house. Once the two of you arrive at your place, you look both ways, making sure no one else was seeing you two together before unlocking the door and stepping inside, Abby soon following after and closing the door behind her.

“The outlet’s over here…” You walk over to where the TV was, and push the display table away from the wall, revealing the hidden outlet that needed fixing. Abby stepped past you to get to the broken outlet and got down on one knee, already getting to work as she began to unscrew the plate. “This shouldn’t take me more than ten minutes. I’ll let you know when I’m finished.” You nod in response, heading over to the kitchen to set the table for when your friends arrive.

Those ten minutes fly by like thirty seconds, and you can already hear the sound of the TV playing from the kitchen. You enter the living room to see Abby flipping through the channels on the TV, making sure that everything’s working perfectly before handing you the remote.

“Thank you so much, Abby…” You turn the TV off and set the remote on the display table next to you before looking back at her. “I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem…” There’s now a brief moment of silence between you two. You notice her looking out the window and eyeing at her house. “I should uh, get going now…” She tells you this, but she doesn’t move. For some reason…Abby didn’t want to leave just yet. And you didn’t want her to either.

Noticing this, you start to feel a sense of boldness spike through and take a step towards her direction. “Do you think that…you could stay just a little longer?” Abby then turns her head and looks down to face you, noticing that you were just inches away from her now. The two of you realize that this is the longest amount of time you’ve spent together, and this is the closest you two are to each other right now. Who knows when this could happen again…Might as well take advantage of the time, right?

Abby doesn’t even respond to your question. Instead she takes the risk and leans into you, enclosing your lips with hers into a kiss. You can’t help but kiss her back and grab at the collar of her open muscle tank, pulling her closer to you. By instinct, Abby brings her hands down to the back of your thighs and signals you to jump. Once you do, she gets a grip on each of your legs as you wrap them around her waist. Abby brings you over to the couch and slowly sets you down before parting her lips away from yours and bringing her head down to kiss at your neck, causing you to whimper at her touch.

“Look at you…I’m barely even touching you and you’re already so desperate for me…” she murmurs in between kisses. “I wonder what your dad would think…knowing that his precious daughter is with me right now…”

Abby was right about that. What would your dad think of you right now? You promised him that you’d stay away from the daughter of the man that was competing with him and his business. And now she’s in your house, in your living room, planting kisses all over your body and marking you as hers.

All because you couldn’t wait for the TV to get fixed.

But was it really because you couldn’t wait for the TV to get fixed? Or because you couldn’t wait for Abby to fix the arousal that was starting to form in between your legs?

You snap yourself out of your thoughts once you feel Abby’s hands trailing down your body and stopping once they reach the hem of your shirt. She grabs onto it and pulls herself away to take it off of you, tossing it to the side once it’s off of your head. You reach over and do the same with her open muscle tank and remove it off of her before she goes back in to kiss at your exposed chest. But then…she stops. Why was she stopping?

You give her a confused expression as she pulls away to look at you, her blue eyes piercing through yours. “Listen…I’d be lying right now if I said I didn’t want to be doing this. I’ve been wanting you ever since I first saw you from across the street.” She takes a deep breath before continuing. “But I need you to tell me, right now…Tell me you want this, and if you don’t, I promise I’ll leave and won’t come near you again.”

You were shocked over what Abby had just admitted to you. But then again, you understood why she would tell you this. This is by far the closest and most intimate you’ve ever been with her, and she didn’t want to go overboard or past your boundaries. She needed the green light. She was seeking the reassurance from you. She wanted to know if you were okay with this, because you both were about to break the rules, and there’s no turning back once it’s done.

But little did she know that you’ve been wanting the same thing. You’ve been wanting Abby in the same way she’s been wanting you. Hell, you’ve even touched yourself at night before with her on your mind. But she doesn’t need to know that. Instead, you just shake your head and grab onto her broad shoulders, pulling her in towards you for another kiss. “I want this, Abby, please…you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this to happen.”

And before you know it, she’s stripped you from the rest of your clothes until you were just in your underwear. Abby was completely taken aback by the sight of you right now. “God…you’re so beautiful…” She mutters out as she begins to kneel down in front of you. “It should be a crime to keep this away from me.”

All you could do at this point was whine in response. The ache that was growing in between your legs was making it so difficult for you to even comprehend what Abby was saying to you right now. You desperately needed her to alleviate that feeling.

“Abby…p-please…need you so bad…”

You heard the blonde let out a chuckle in response. “I know baby, I know…Let’s see what I’m working with, yeah?” She then reaches up to your waist and grabs at the band of your underwear removing it off of you in one pull before spreading your legs open, revealing your pussy to her. The view that was in front of her right now was a sight for sore eyes. You were completely soaked for her, she could easily see the wetness gushing out of your pussy and trailing itself down to the leather of the couch. You tried to hold back a moan as you felt Abby’s fingers gently press against your folds and slowly spread them open to get a better look.

“Fuck, you’re so wet…is this really all for me?” She asks in surprise, looking up at you. You nodded in response. “It’s all for you Abs, please….need you to fix this…”

“Don’t worry angel, I’ll fix it for you.” she murmurs in response as she begins to scatter more kisses on your inner thighs, slowly inching her face closer to your heat. “I’ll make it all better for you, yeah?” And with that she begins to insert one of her fingers into your tight pussy, causing another whimper to escape from your mouth. You were so wet for her that she was easily able to slide her finger into you without struggling. It didn’t take long for her to slide a second finger in. “Atta girl…you’re taking my fingers so well…I wish I could’ve fixed this a lot sooner.” Abby then leans in and wraps her lips around your throbbing clit, not stopping the movements of her fingers.

You grab onto the armrest once you feel the sensation of her mouth on your clit. Her fingers were curling themselves into your cunt so hard that it’s practically causing friction in your g spot. Feeling heavy in your head, you slowly bring it down to see the sight of her beneath you. You spread your legs out a little more to give Abby some room, with your right leg hooking itself over the armrest of the couch. She’s been so fixated on eating out your cunt that the movement slightly startles her a bit. With her mouth still sucking onto your clit she looks up at you once again and you could’ve sworn that her fucking pupils just dilated. Abby was getting completely drunk on your pussy, and you were getting drunk from the overstimulation she was giving you.

You feel Abby’s mouth briefly remove itself from your clit, quickly replacing it with her thumb to keep you stimulated. She then brought herself up to tend to one of your tits, gently kissing and biting onto it as she continued to finger your cunt senselessly. It came to the point where the all of contact that Abby was giving you right now was slowly starting to consume you. Your pussy began to clench and contract around Abby’s thick fingers, indicating that you were starting to get close. She immediately noticed and took her mouth off of your breast, and went back down to your needy cunt to finish you off.

“Abby…” you moan out to her, your voice getting tense. “I-I’m getting close.”

“I know you are, angel. I’m gonna help you get there, yeah?” She tells you reassuringly as she presses her free hand onto your lower stomach. “Just ride my fingers out for me, baby, just like that.”

Abby then brings her mouth back to your swollen clit as she speeds the pace of her fingers. You follow her instructions and grind your hips against them, desperately trying to approach your climax.

However, you start to get an unusual feeling deep in the pit of your stomach as you began to get closer. The pressure was more intense than what you’re used to, for some reason it didn’t feel right. You felt like your body was on fire.

This led you to tell Abby to stop right at the last minute. “W-Wait, Abby, stop I— Fuck!”

But it was too late. Your body already did its deed before the words could get through your mouth. Your cunt pulsed hard against her fingers before going completely overboard on its climax. You throw your head back in pleasure and shut your eyes, whines and whimpers escaping your mouth as you cum all over Abby’s mouth and fingers. Her fingers soon start slowing it’s pace right after. She then removes her mouth and fingers from your pussy, gently stroking your trembling thighs as you slowly recover from your climax.

“Fuck, Abby…that was—“ You slowly tilt your head back down and open your eyes, only to be shocked by the sight of the blonde in front of you, completely drenched in your release. “Oh my God…Did I just…”

She nodded in response, wiping the bottom of her chin with the back of her hand. “Yeah, I think you did…”

You start to feel your face heat up in embarrassment and completely avert your gaze from her. “I’m so sorry Abs…I-I didn’t even know I could do that…” She only shook her head in response. leaning in to give you a another kiss, which allowed you to taste a bit of yourself on her lips. “Don’t you dare apologize. You did so good for me.” Abby then brought her gaze down to your cunt, still twitching after it’s intense orgasm. She gently ran two fingers down to pick up the rest of your release before bringing them to her mouth, sucking them clean. “This was definitely worth the wait.”

You let out a giggle in response before leaning in to give her another kiss. “You were definitely worth the wait for me.”

Abby smiled back at you, before noticing something at the corner of her eye. She looked out through the window, her eyes widening in shock at what came across her vision.

“Oh shit…Isn’t that Joel’s truck?”

You quickly turned your head around to see your dad’s truck passing through the roundabout of the neighborhood. It looks like he was able to stop by from work after all. “Oh my God, I completely forgot I told him about the outlet.” You look over to Abby and began to pick up your discarded clothes from the ground. “You need to go, now before my dad sees you.”

The two of you scramble around the living room for each other’s clothes, quickly dressing yourselves again. You then sprint over to the kitchen to get a rag before coming back to the living room to wipe what was left of your release off of the couch. Once you do, you look up to see your dad’s truck now parked in the driveway. Thank God he was still sitting there and on his phone, probably talking a client out of doing business with Abby’s dad. You then look over to her, now fully dressed. “Come with me, I’ll take you out through the back.” You grab her hand and bring her outside to the backyard, opening the back fence for her. “Just go out through the left and cross the street, that way it won’t look suspicious.” She nodded in response, quickly turning back to briefly kiss you on the lips before heading out. This gave you the feeling that it wasn’t going to be the last time that this would happen.

But for now you felt a wave of relief wash through you. As Abby began to head back home you closed the fence and went back inside, only to hear the sound of the front door opening and your dad’s footsteps entering the house.

“Hey kiddo, m’home!” You heard him call out. “Was able to stop by real quick from work to check on the TV. Is it still not workin’?”

Well, Abby might be out of your hands, but now you’ve encountered a new dilemma: trying to explain to your dad how the TV got fixed.

author’s note: i pray that this doesn’t flop 🙏🏻

part 2 here

requested tags 🏷️: @aouiaa @whorn3y @pretty-prrincess-13 @elliewilliamskissr

2023 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[barcaatthemoon]

if you love me || jenni hermoso x reader ||

jenni breaks up with you after the coming back from the olympics.

it had taken you a long time, but you had finally found someone who made you happy. on the outside, you were sure that your relationship with jenni looked a bit unconventional. weeks after you had gone of your first date, jenni transferred to mexico. the two of you had mutually agreed to keep things going, and when your contract ended, you joined your girlfriend in north america.

you couldn't get a spot on jenni's team or even in the league, but you were happy to be playing in california. the distance was a lot less, and there was more time to spend together overall. jenni often found herself staying over for weeks at a time, and vice versa. things were going great between the two of you, so well that you knew jenni was the woman you wanted to marry.

jenni had gotten called back to spain for the olympics, but you had never really been a national team prospect, so you stayed put. as much as you wanted to spend time with her in paris, you had been forced to stay put with other duties for your club team. jenni understood, and kept you updated every moment that she could. even talking to you whenever there was seemingly nothing going on at all just to check in.

"hola baby," you greeted jenni. the miniscule break in your schedule had prompted a quick trip to mexico. you had been afraid that you wouldn't be able to see jenni on her return from paris, but you had caught what you believed to be an extremely lucky break.

"hey," jenni mumbled. you pressed a kiss against her cheek as you took a couple of her bags from her. you didn't think too much about it as jenni just sort of flopped back against the couch. when you came back from the bedroom, jenni was still just sitting on the couch staring off into space.

"i missed you," you said as you tried to cuddle up next to her. jenni didn't jolt away from you, but she might as well have. every one of jenni's movements were sluggish and reluctant as she scooted away from you. "jenni, what's wrong?"

"did you get a ticket to go back to california? i don't think it's a good idea that you stay here with me. we need to take some time apart, maybe start seeing other people," jenni said. her voice was even, betrayed only by the tears streaming down her face. if it wasn't for that, you would have thought she didn't care. instead, that little detail pushed you to try and fight for the relationship.

"jenni, you don't mean this. if you want a bit of time to yourself, that's fine, but think about this. if i leave for real, i'm not coming back," you told her. jenni squeezed her eyes shut and covered her face with her hands. "think about this."

"i have, and it's the only way that things will be okay."

…

the months following the olympics were a whirlwind for you. after you finished out your first season in california, you found yourself being traded to washington. it was nice to be back with jona, who welcomed you with open arms along with your new teammates. to top that off, you received your very first call up to the spanish national team.

you were excited about your first camp call up, even if you were nervous about seeing jenni. somehow, you managed to completely avoid her. it took a lot to manage on social media, but you did it. that was why seeing her again fucked with you as badly as it did.

"you've been weird." for a moment, you thought alexia was talking to you in the gym. the two of you had always been friendly with each other, but you weren't particularly close. she had seen you as one of the babies of the barcelona team and was overly critical of your relationship with jenni. although, you weren't ever completely certain of what problem in particular she had with your relationship.

"maybe you're just not used to being around me anymore," jenni teased. you felt almost sick to your stomach hearing that flirting tone directed at someone else.

"jenni, be serious. are you and (y/n) still okay?" alexia asked. you could practically feel the wind behind you with how quickly jenni turned towards alexia. "what?"

"do you seriously think that after all that pushing from you and irene that (y/n) and i are okay? there's nothing to be okay anymore because i listened to the two of you and let her find someone else. i was only ever going to hold her back from her true potential right?" there was something in jenni's voice that instinctively made you turn around.

your heart broke when you saw the way that jenni was looking at alexia. neither one of them noticed you standing there in front of them, definitely within earshot. alexia looked like she had realized her mistake in butting in on jenni's relationship with you. alexia and irene were the two people jenni trusted and respected most on the team. it made sense that her breaking up with you after the olympics was something that had been put in her head.

"you did what?" you couldn't help yourself. you had never even thought of raising your voice like that at your captain before, but an ungodly amount of rage seemed to overtake your rational senses.

"that wasn't what we meant," alexia said. you had never heard her voice sound so small before. she knew that she had fucked up monumentally as she looked between the two of you. "i'm sorry, i really am. jenni, i don't know what to say."

"you've really said enough. (y/n), can i please have a word with you in private?" jenni asked. she wasn't even really finished with her question before you were pulling her off into a separate room. there were so many things that you wanted to do and couldn't decide on, but lucky for you, jenni knew what she wanted.

she had always known what she wanted. jenni was the one you looked to for guidance, and maybe that had sparked some issues with the older girls on the team, but you trusted jenni. the older woman had never purposefully led you astray. she needed you in a lot of the same ways that you needed her, even if she hadn't clued anyone in on that.

"i'm so sorry," jenni apologized as she pulled you into her arms. you could feel the tears soaking your shirt as she buried her face into your shoulder. "i didn't want to make you leave, but i thought you'd be better off. you came all the way to america to me, and i didn't want to know what you'd do if i retired. they were kind of right, you're at the beginning of your career and i'm nearing the end."

"but it's not over yet, and just because you retire and find something else to fill your time doesn't mean that i'll end my career early. you never would have let that happen, nevermind ask me to do that. i knew what i was getting into with you jenni, at least i thought i did before…"

"i'm such a fucking idiot," jenni mumbled. you pushed her away a bit, but kept her close enough to hold onto. "will you forgive me? you don't have to take me back right now or ever, but please, give me another chance."

"when this is all over, stay with me in dc for a bit. we can see how if feels and figure it out from there," you told her. jenni nodded, muttering her gratitude as she kissed all over your face repeatedly.

[f14fun]

dc it-girl (mv1) - chapter 1

synopsis: in which case y/n, an it-girl that hails from the united state's capital, washington dc, meets max verstappen in an unexpected occurence at the redbull showrun in her home city. both not knowing each other, immediately find themselves in a once-in-a-lifetime love story.

general info: !fem!poc!black-reader x mv1 faceclaim: asia monet ray + other girls from pinterest/insta!

smau + prose (3.3K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

things to note: yes, in this story i am changing the characters for a bit, i know that david coulthard was driving, but in this case we can pretend that that was max. also, he will be in dc for a publicity event for a week. please let me know if there is anything else you need me to clarify. happy reading! 💙📖💭

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yourusername

liked by florence.jwilliams, user1 and 119,012 others

yourusername: bad gyals thrive in dc

view comments:

florence.jwilliams: babes we looked so hot today xx

yourusername: i knowww, but i was dying like a bitch in the heat 🙄🙄

florence.jwilliams: might visit somewhere cold this summer j to get away from the sun tbh 😭

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Florence was always looking for shit.

She was always looking for shit for us to do, places to go, food to eat, but sometimes, it was a lot.

Like today. Although it was only the nineteenth of April, the sun was blaring down on the little city of D.C. (namely, the District of Columbia, for all of you non-natives) like an absolute bitch. And I, immune to alcohol poisoning, foot fungus, and slightly-immune to bad breath, was not absolutely not immune to the wrathful rays of the sun.

Zilch. Nada.

So when I originally left the house in a cardigan, I immediately went back in to change into a tank top and jorts. It was hot. I was hot. And Florence wanted to spend the whole day walking around the city doing God knows what.

That's how we ended up stumbling across a parade.

Every know and then when I would visit D.C., I would sometimes almost accidentally show up right in time for an event. Sometimes I happened to love the event, other times, I sometimes left, queasy, dizzy, and claustrophobic.

I wasn't sure what to make out of today's event.

At first, when looking from an outsider's perspective, it seemed as if I had walked into one large, large, cult meeting. Oh no.

Every one was adorned in shapes of navy, cheering, screaming, and worse of them all, holding a goddamn can of RedBull's Energy drink.

The air was thick with the scent of anticipation and caffeine, a cocktail potent enough to keep even the most exhausted of souls awake for days.

Banners fluttered wildly in the hands of fervent fans, each emblazoned with logos and slogans that screamed allegiance.

Vendors weaved through the throng, hawking more cans of the ubiquitous energy drink, their cries barely audible over the din.

Occasionally, a shower of confetti would rain down, sticking to the sweat-drenched skin of the masses, creating a mosaic of glittering chaos. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the raw energy of thousands of voices united in a singular, frenzied purpose.

Ew.

RedBull being one of my least favorite sodas (can you even call something you vehemently dislike a favorite at this point?) already made me additionally pissy.

So when Florence and I had just arrived at D.C. and walked towards Pennsylvania Avenue, it was too late for us to realize that the event was actually ending, and the crowd was dispersing.

Even as a girl who hails from the city, I do get quite nervous and claustrophobic around too many people. So to my utter horror, people from the flood of the RedBull cult were heading straight towards us, scattering like a pack of fleas.

Too late.

I had lost my tight grip (I swear I was holding on to her hand super duper tightly!) on Florence's hand, and we ended up getting separated from each other. Calling her name would be no use in this throng of people.

My heart pounded in my chest as I desperately scanned the sea of navy shapes, each person indistinguishable from the next in the dimming light.

Panic set in, and I could feel the beginnings of a cold sweat on the back of my neck. I tried to push my way through the crowd, but it felt like swimming against a relentless tide. People brushed past me, some nearly knocking me over in their haste to leave.

The overwhelming noise of their chatter, laughter, and the occasional burp of a RedBull can opening filled the air, making it impossible to concentrate.

It was gross. It was disgusting. I was disgusted.

I spun around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Florence’s distinctive red scarf, but all I saw were faceless masses. My phone! I fumbled in my pocket, my fingers trembling as I tried to pull it out without dropping it. Just as I managed to get a hold of it, someone bumped into me, and the phone slipped from my grasp, landing with a sickening thud on the pavement.

“Dammit!” I muttered under my breath, crouching down to retrieve it, praying it wasn’t shattered. As I picked it up, I glanced around again, my heart sinking. Florence was nowhere to be seen.

In this crowd of sickeningly electric people over an energy drink, I was dead. Six feet under. Tired, and I had just gotten to D.C..

I looked around in despair, realizing that I must have walked a few blocks without even noticing, my mind too frazzled by the chaos and my separation from Florence.

My phone was clutched tightly in my hand, my lifeline in this moment of utter confusion. I tried to call Florence, but there was no signal. "Damn this shitty data!" I cursed under my breath, feeling my frustration bubble over. The crowd seemed to close in around me, their excited chatter and laughter a stark contrast to my growing panic.

My fingers tapped frantically at the screen, hoping that maybe, just maybe, a bar of signal would appear and rescue me from this nightmare. I could feel the beginnings of a headache forming, the kind that starts as a dull throb and quickly escalates into a pounding, relentless pain.

The one goddamn day I had left the house without my morning coffee and this shit decided to happen to me...

In a desperate attempt, I switched my phone to airplane mode and back again, praying for a miracle. But nothing changed. The crowd jostled me from all sides, pushing and pulling like a relentless tide, each shove adding to my rising sense of helplessness.

I glanced around, trying to find a familiar landmark or a quieter spot to regroup, but all I saw were waves of navy shapes and faces blurred by motion and anxiety.

"Florence!" I shouted again, my voice barely carrying above the din. The energy drink-fueled chaos was suffocating, a cacophony of noise and movement that seemed designed to disorient and overwhelm. I caught sight of a bench a few feet away and made a beeline for it, hoping to gain some semblance of stability.

I was in a twisted, sick, alternative fever dream where my nightmare fuel was in fact RedBull™, ha ha ha.

Whatever, I could probably find her somewhere around the city, I mean, it wasn't that big...right?

So there I was, in D.C., by myself. Not like I wanted to go in the first place that morning, but whatever.

Lost in thought, I was just wandering around, not really concentrating on anything in particular. Horrible city instincts, might I add. Because of my absentmindedness, I clearly did not notice when I walked into someone.

More like someone's RedBull drink walked into me.

I could not escape the nightmare fuel fever dream RedBull™ agenda, couldn't I.

Now I was extremely pissed off. The icy liquid soaked through my shirt, a cold shock that made me gasp and snap back to reality.

Looking up, I was two milliseconds away from berating whoever spilled this devil-drink all over me. But my harsh words died on the tip of my tongue the very instant that I looked up.

I was looking at a man. But not just any regular man. An extremely handsome man.

His startling icy turquoise eyes connected with mine. His stubble, a little overgrown, looked so hot. His mousy, brown touseled hair gave him a nonchalant yet strangely put-together look, and I was all in for it. And I, a girl who never stops talking, I was rendered speechless.

From the first glance, everything about him seemed perfect.

Except for the fact that he just spilled RedBull all over my white tank top and he was even wearing RedBull merch, from head to toe. Like who does that? What fashion choices...

He gave me a sheepish smile, clearly embarrassed. "I'm so sorry," he said, his voice smooth and sincere. "I didn't see you there." His soft, European (?) accent lulled me to silence in an instance.

I wanted to be mad, I really did, but his charm was disarming. "It's fine," I managed to say, trying to suppress the butterflies in my stomach. "Accidents happen."

"Let me help you," he offered, reaching into his pockets and pulling out a pack of Kleenex tissues. He reached out towards me, seemingly wanting to put his hands on my shirt.

"Oh, oh, that's okay," I said, freaking out internally. If this handsome European man touched me that close to my boobs I might just have to propose to him that very instant.

"No, no, no, I insist," he said, his accent getting thicker, clearly not understanding my drift. He was too handsome to be doing this shit, I swear.

He came closer towards me, and I instinctively backed up a bit more. Not catching my drift (once again), he took a larger stride towards me. I, unprepared for this wild encounter, didn't step backwards in time, so the sexy European man in all of his glory, collided into me.

And down we went.

It must've been a funny sight to see from the average passerby. Them just minding their business. Maybe walking their dog. Or perhaps getting a morning lattee.

Bam.

Lying in the middle of the street are two people. Just there.

I would've hit my head on the pavement and probably cracked my scull wide open if not for the RedBull man. He had cradled one arm around my head, the other wrapped tightly around my waist. I think (?) he was helping me to try to stop the fall.

To no avail, we still fell.

What he disregarded, though, was when he tried to stop the fall, was the reason why we were falling in the first place. As grabbed my head as we fell, he also let go of the RedBull can. So now, free in the wind and open towards the chaos of the District of Columbia, the RedBull can fell.

Fell where? You may ask. It fell over us. It fell everywhere. The sticky, icky drink splattered across both of our faces, its cold, sugary droplets clinging to our skin like a caffeinated rain shower. The can, released from his grasp, seemed to defy gravity for a split second, twisting in the air before gravity's inevitable pull sent it crashing down.

The can hit the ground with a soft thud, its contents erupting in a fizzy explosion of energy. The liquid sprayed outward in all directions, catching us both off guard.

Streams of RedBull arced through the air, some landing on nearby pedestrians who stared in disbelief, while others formed tiny puddles on the sidewalk, reflecting the cloudy yet impeccably humid D.C. sky above.

For a moment, him and I laid on top of each other (weird and freaky, I know), frozen in a tableau of absurdity, our faces now adorned with streaks of sticky red liquid.

A passerby, caught in the crossfire, chuckled as they hurried past, muttering something about needing to wash their dog now. It was a scene straight out of a slapstick comedy, and despite my initial shock and embarrassment, I couldn't help but laugh along with him.

And you may think, oh wow, that is horrible. That must hurt. Your joints, your back, your legs. And to that I say, yes, yes, and very much absolutely yes.

The very sexy (slightly less sexy, now that we were mangled on the disgusting sidewalk) European man was laying on me with all his bodyweight, and it very much hurt.

To make matters worse, our faces collided. You ask, where did your faces specifically collide?

Our lips. Our lips collided, and they touched.

And me like the dumbass I am, when I see a face coming towards mine unexpectedly, eyes closed, and especially a face who's male.... I puckered up.

Yes, I was stupid.

Now, I was on the floor, sticky, and kissing a stranger.

Out of context, that sounds like a funny and strange sentence. But this whole scenario in the first place was out of context, so bear with me. I mean, how often do you end up on the ground, covered in energy drink, and accidentally kissing a stranger in the middle of the day?

It was like something out of a quirky rom-com (okay, more like the evil-twisted beginning to one of those abduction horror stories grown-ups tell you when you are a kid), except I never imagined I'd be the protagonist.

But in that split second, with the taste of RedBull lingering on our lips and the chaos of the city swirling around us, there was an inexplicable spark. It wasn't just the caffeine rush; it was a moment of shared laughter and unexpected connection amidst the sticky mess.

In this moment, I was either going to die because he was about to kidnap me, or sheerly die out of embarrassment. Or, I would will myself to die, this was not happening to me.

He pulled back, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" he asked, his accent making his words sound even more sincere.

I tried to laugh it off, but the awkwardness of the situation was hard to shake. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… sticky." I wiped at my face, feeling the sugary residue cling to my skin.

He helped me to my feet, brushing off his clothes with an apologetic smile. "I didn't mean to… I mean, that was not… you know," he stammered, clearly flustered.

"It's okay," I reassured him, despite feeling mortified myself. "Really, it's fine. Just a little... unexpected."

He chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. He winced, as he realized that his fingers as well as his hair smelled like RedBull. "Well, this is definitely not how I imagined meeting someone today."

"Me neither," I admitted, feeling a strange mix of embarrassment and amusement. "But hey, at least it's a memorable encounter."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, I guess this is one way to make an impression. I'm Max, by the way. Professional RedBull spiller and accidental kisser."

I laughed, the tension easing. "Nice to meet you, Max. I'm Y/N. Apparently, I'm your victim for today."

"Victim? More like an unsuspecting hero," he replied with a playful grin. "Seriously, though, I'm really sorry about all this. Can I at least buy you a coffee to make up for it?"

"Well, considering you saved me from cracking my skull open, I think I can let you off the hook," I said, trying to sound casual while still feeling a bit flustered. "And coffee sounds good."

"Great! I know a place just around the corner. And I promise, no more RedBull," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. (Yeah, the biggest lie I was ever told. Do not trust sexy men, they are all liars)

As we walked towards the café, the awkwardness of our first meeting began to fade into a shared sense of humor about the absurdity of the situation. Max continued to apologize, making light-hearted comments about his job with RedBull and his less-than-perfect coordination skills.

"You know," Max started with a grin, "I guess I should add 'professional accidental kisser' to my resume now."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Not sure how many job openings there are for that, but you'd definitely stand out."

"Well, it's all about making a memorable first impression, right?" Max replied, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Definitely memorable," I agreed, taking a playful jab. "Though next time, maybe aim for something less sticky?"

Max feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "But where's the fun in that? Besides, it's not every day you get to meet someone while wearing your finest RedBull cologne."

"I have to admit," I said with a smirk, "you wear it well."

Max chuckled, nudging me playfully. "Hey, it's an acquired scent. You'll get used to it."

"And here I thought coffee was supposed to be the only thing brewing today," I teased, glancing at him from the corner of my eye.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Who says we can't have a double shot of excitement?"

I couldn't help but chuckle at his playful flirtation, feeling myself relax even more in his company. "Well, as long as it doesn't involve any more airborne beverages, I'm all in."

Max raised an eyebrow, pretending to look offended. "Are you saying you didn't enjoy our little RedBull shower?"

"Let's just say I prefer my caffeine in a cup," I replied with a grin, sipping my coffee and meeting his gaze over the rim. "So, Max, what other talents do you have besides professional beverage mishaps?"

He leaned back, pretending to ponder the question seriously. "Well, I can juggle three balls at once. And I'm pretty good at making people laugh, unintentionally, most of the time."

"I can see that," I said, laughing softly. "You've definitely brightened up my day, unintentionally." Continuing, I said, "I was lost in that throng, no, no, no, cult of people wearing RedBull on Penn Ave. It was absolutely horrible, never again."

He guffawed loudly, so loudly, at my slightly funny joke, I for a second, thought that there was an underlying joke in my statement that I had not caught (spoiler alert, there was).

Max guffawed loudly, his laughter infectious. "Oh, I'm sorry," he managed between chuckles, "but you have to admit, it makes for a great story."

"You find this funny?" I asked, feigning offense while trying not to laugh myself. "I was traumatized by energy drink enthusiasts!"

"Hey, at least you made it out alive," Max quipped, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye. "And here you are, sharing your harrowing tale with a fellow survivor."

"Survivor?" I raised an eyebrow, pretending to assess him critically. "Or secret admirer of RedBull?"

Max shrugged, his smile mischievous. "Maybe a bit of both. It's an acquired taste, you know."

"You are just saying that as a cult member, I can't really trust what you say still. I am so sorry, but you could not pay me to drink that can of dog piss," I jokingly rolled my eyes.

Max burst into laughter, his amusement filling the air around us. "Dog piss? That's a new one! Trust me, I'm not here to convert you," he said, grinning widely. "But if you ever change your mind, I'll be here with a fresh can and an open mind."

"Hmmm... okay," I reluctantly said. (Yeah, fat chance you would get me to drink RedBull willingly)

"That only made him laugh louder. "So I've heard," Max replied with a grin, clearly taking my comment in good humor.

I chuckled, feeling a sense of relief that he wasn't offended by my playful jab. "I mean, it takes confidence to rock the RedBull look from head to toe," I added, trying to soften my teasing with a smile.

"Exactly!" Max exclaimed, his laughter subsiding into a grin. "You've got to commit to the brand, right?"

"Absolutely," I agreed, nodding. "I have to hand it to you, though. Not many people can pull off such a bold fashion statement."

"Well, thank you," Max said, his tone light and playful. "I guess you could say I'm all about making a statement."

"I can see that," I replied, unable to resist teasing him a bit more. "I suppose next time we meet, I should wear something equally attention-grabbing to match your style."

Max laughed, shaking his head. "Please do. It'll make for an even more interesting encounter."

Everytime he spoke, he made direct eye contact with me. It was so sexy and seductive, and I don't even think that Max knew what he was doing was hella attractive.

I, not immune to anything today I guess, fell hard for a stranger that I had just met.

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yourusername posted on her story

📍washington dc 🎵 see you again (ft. kali uchis) - tyler the creator

view replies

florence.jwilliams: girl we got separated and first thing you do is be big backed??? be so fr... where are u

yourusername: on a date! 😁

florence.jwilliams: oh!-

florence.jwilliams: don't be selfish and bring me back a iced coffee w almond milk and a croissant pls.

yourusername: croissant 👌🏾, beverage 👎🏾, i've had enuf of beverages and spilling today. 😭

florence.jwilliams: oop, tea

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author's note: a little short but sweet! ty guys for reading this fic! 😍🫶🏾 part two will be out sometime within the next two weeks, comment if you want to be added to the taglist! ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

[thewulf]

Sir || Aaron Hotchner

Request: Do you think you could do a Hotch x ADHD reader where they are energetic and talkative all day since Aaron came back from a tough case. With the constant questions and comments Aaron gets irritated due to stress and says something like “can you be quiet for 5 seconds please” or “enough with the stupid questions, it’s annoying” and the reader ends up talking less with him and only responds with short answers and they try to suppress their ADHD ticks around him.

A/N: Well, I couldn't sleep on the plane home yesterday and I found a surge of inspo! Had so much fun writing this one. I just adore Hotch! Thanks for the request! @ghostridrr

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 3.9k +

You’d never expected to be dating an FBI agent nonetheless fall hopelessly head over heels for the guy in a matter of months. Coming from humble beginnings in a small southern town. Not many people made it out, but you did. You were determined. Determined to get the hell out and never look back. So, you did. You made it happen. Working your ass off through college becoming a civil engineer and finding a job at a firm in Washington DC you quickly found your groove. You worked your way up from an engineer to a manager to a project manager within ten years. Loving your job meant giving your all which didn’t leave much time for your personal life nor a love life. It’s not like you hadn’t tried you were just busy.

 It all hit you on your birthday that you wanted more. You wanted a partner. You wanted to have a life with somebody. For years you put in effort to try. Dating good guys and shitty ones alike. You were about to give it up for good after the years of trying. But the universe had a different plan for you.

It all started so casually on a sunny Monday morning at Quantico. Your firm had been contracted out to completely renovate the old Quantico offices and bring them into the 21st century. You��d absolutely fallen in love with your job, the project manager, over the course of the six months. Between working with the clients, budgeting, staging, and executing the demo and construction you’d found loved. It was the perfect job that kept your busy brain occupied and constantly moving. Always showing up to work with a big cheesy smile on your face and ending the day with an inevitable streak of dirt across your shirt or jeans.

Everything went so smoothly until your crew moved up to the sixth floor. The BAU. Whatever the hell that is. Apparently, nobody had warned the boss man and he wasn’t too thrilled to say the least. You were used to working around the residents of the floor, but this wasn’t starting out to great considering your crew would be working on the floor for the next few months.

“What the hell is all this? Why is there tarp in my conference room?” A strong voice broke you from the planning board you were reviewing with your construction Forman, Eric.

Snapping your head around you made eye contact with possibly the most handsome man you’d ever seen. Of fucking course he had to be hot as hell. This was certainly going to make things way more interesting for you.

Putting on your best smile you slowly walked over to him, hardhat and high visibility vest and all, “I’m so sorry sir. I thought somebody from your leadership would’ve informed you. My crew is starting some demo and renovations on this floor today. We’ll do our best to keep the noise down, but we might have to kick you out of a few spots every now and then.” Trying your best to charm the man with a big smile you only felt intimated when he simply just looked at you. As if he was studying you. Not frowning, not smiling, stoic as hell. You involuntarily took a step back. Intimidating the hell out of you.

He must’ve picked up on your discomfort as his straight-faced gaze softened ever so slightly. He pinched the bridge of his nose as you cocked your head to the side observing him. He must’ve been choosing his words very carefully.

“I don’t have time for this today. I’m sorry.” He sighed in clear frustration. A real frustration you’d seen time and time again on the job.

You frowned. Annoyed at his leadership for failing to tell him you were about to ruin his next few months as your crew worked through the floor. You had to think quick. This was your job after all, “I’ll tell you what sir. We’ll start over on those conference rooms this week. Hopefully that gives you time to sort it out?” You pointed to the rooms on the other side of the office, not the large one his team clearly needed.

He gave you a curt nod. His gaze almost fully softening as you tried to compromise with him still with a genuine smile on your face. Even he had to admit that smile was breaking him down far faster than he would’ve thought possible. He had yet to even look at a woman since Haley’s death, that was years ago now. It freaked him out a little. He’d been so fine on his own. Figuring out a good routine with Jack and Jess. Getting too complacent. He knew it wasn’t fair to Jack. Especially since he was getting to an age where a mom was crucial. Jack needed somebody to lean on and it certainly wasn’t fair to Jess to pick that up.

“It won’t mess your plans up?” The handsome stranger asked you. Your smile grew as you knew he was going to be willing to work with you. More often than not you’d have to get into with whomever was arguing back with you, often the government trying to shut you down. But you knew better. You always had all the permits you needed and knew the rule book like the back of your hand. That’s why you excelled. You never let anybody get the better of you. ADHD was a curse and a blessing at the same damn time.

Shaking your head you continued, “Not at all! That’s construction. You plan, and then it changes 45 times before you actually start. It’s no big deal at all. Really.” You tried to reassure him. He looked embarrassed that he was so upset only a few moments prior. The last thing you wanted to do was make him uncomfortable. You knew you had at least two months of face to face with the guy. Starting off on the wrong foot was the worst thing you and the crew could do.

“I’m sorry. If you wouldn’t mind. We have a crucial case involving some kids…” He stopped himself before he divulged too much. He didn’t want you to get kicked out on his own accord. He knew you only had a clearance to enter the building. Nothing more, nothing less. He wouldn’t risk that at your stake.

“No explanations necessary sir. We’ll find a better day to demo.” You never dropped your smile as you maintained eye contact with him. You found that making sure to look whomever in the eyes always met you with better than looking around, looking scared.

“Aaron. Sir is too formal. Aaron Hotchner. My team, whenever they get here, will call me Hotch. Call me whatever.” He stuck his hand out for you to take. Gently you set your hand in his. You’d always been taught to go for the death grip when shaking hands. It established dominance or some bullshit like that. Especially since you were a woman in such a male dominated field. Working in a man’s world was exhausting. But something struck you as different with the man. So gentle it was.

“Nice to meet you, Aaron. I’m Y/N.” He shook your hand just as gently as you set your hand in his. You weren’t sure if he felt the pull that you felt but you simply couldn’t take your eyes off him.

“It’s nice to meet you to Y/N.” The handshake when on for a little too long. You were positive Eric was going to give you hell for this when you walked back over, “And again, I’m sorry for the outburst. These cases get stressful.”

You laughed a giggle that shouldn’t have come out of your mouth at work. His stoic expression tweaked into a soft smile after hearing your laugh, “Believe me when I say that was tame. The yelling matches I’ve gotten in with men twice my age are too plentiful to count.”

He laughed this time finally dropping your hand, gently of course, “I’m sorry you have to deal with that.”

You shrugged, “Part of the job. Plus, it’s fun to yell back sometimes.” His small smile grew into a much larger one, eyes crinkling and all. You’d done it. You’d charmed him.

“Hotch!” A female voice came yelling out of the conference room, “Round table, let’s go.” The pretty blonde-haired lady smirked at him before turning back to the room. The two of you failed to see his team file in during the conversation.

He broke his gaze turning around to see his agent vanishing from the doorway, “Got to go. Nice to meet you Y/N. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.”

You nodded your head, “Likewise Aaron.”

The rest was literally history. He ended up bringing you some sort of coffee or baked good every morning he was in the office, which you learned very quickly wasn’t all that often. He and his team seemed to be away more than they were actually there. You took advantage of that and fixed their office spaces and conferences rooms right as they left for their trips. You’d check in with Penny to make sure you weren’t in the way when they got back.

Small chit chats in the morning turned to lunch “dates” as Eric so kindly called them. You’d refused to call them as such, not ever truly able to gauge whether he was actually interested in you or not. You tried to make it as blatantly obvious as possible, but he was Aaron. Calm, cool and collected. The two of you had even been the butt of office jokes as you got closer. You didn’t seem to care though. It felt too good with him to give whatever you had up.

Lucky for you those lunch dates turned to dinner dates and before you knew it you were meeting Jack and spending time at his place. Weeks turned to months, and you were spending almost every night at the Hotchner’s. You and Jack were getting along as thick as thieves. Aaron even trusting you to watch him while he was gone. You made Jack promise not to tell his daddy that you gave him ice cream almost every night. It was a secret between the two of you.

Jack was off on a summer camp, and you’d just wrapped up the Quantico project leaving you far too bored sitting at Aaron’s place. So, you did what you always did when you had nothing to do. You cranked up the music and started cleaning. It was a Tuesday morning, and you really weren’t expecting Aaron to get back from his case. It was a long one out in Colorado. He never gave you the specifics, but he sounded horribly upset each night when he was on the phone with you. Distracted and distraught.

You hadn’t heard the door open and close as you were upstairs cleaning. But when your music abruptly stopped you hightailed it downstairs to get it going again. To your surprise your boyfriend was standing at the kitchen island rubbing his temples. You should’ve known there that he wasn’t going to be in the best of moods.

“Hon.” You grinned ear to ear seeing him standing there, “Your home! How was the trip? Happy to be home? I missed you tons. Especially with Jack being gone, I haven’t had anybody to talk to.” You wrapped your arms around his front, hugging him from behind. You were usually really good at picking up on social cues, but you must’ve been too damn excited to see him to pick up on his mood.

“Y/N.” He gave you a half smile before squeezing your hands tightly but gently. Like he was afraid of losing you.

“Aaron.” You let go of him brushing the now overgrown hair out of his face, “Are you alright? Was the trip okay? I just missed you so much. Hopefully it wasn’t too bad. I’ve really gotten used to having Jack around. I wish you didn’t have to go so often.” You admitted.

He sighed a deep one, “It was a tough case.” Was all he gave you. You should’ve known there that he wasn’t going to give you much else. But your stupid ass brain decided to ignore the cues. It wasn’t really your fault that it bounced around so quickly. You’d even taken your meds today. It was something about Aaron that seemed to break anything those meds were holding back.

“Want to talk about it? I know you never do but it could be good for you. You know? It’s not great to hold that kind of stuff in. It’ll eat away at you.” You just wanted him to be the Aaron you knew. Not the ball of stress standing before you.

He shook his head, “Not this time.”

“You sure? You look upset hon. I don’t like to see you like that.” You continued not noticing him closing his eyes. Surely more than irritated with you at the moment. But were you going to catch that? Nope.

“Positive.”

You nodded, “Alright. If you say so. Are you hungry? I can whip you up some lunch…”

He interrupted you before you could go on whatever long winded rant you had built up, “Y/N, can you be quiet for five seconds please? I’m trying to think.” You were turned away from him and didn’t see the immediate regret that washed over his face. He didn’t really mean it he just needed you to stop for a moment. He wasn’t expecting you to be home and wasn’t ready for the bombardment of questions. After cases that involved so many deaths it took him a moment to come back around. He needed a second to himself. The job was hard and you knew that.

And with that you felt your heart deflate right then and there. The smile that hadn’t dropped since he came home immediately vanished without a trace. Your happy eyes immediately dropping and filling with hot, wet tears that desperately wanted to spill over. You’d been with him for almost half a year and that had yet to come out of his mouth. It took you by surprise, to say the least.

“I’m so sorry.” You squeaked out before walking out of the kitchen hastily. You weren’t good with conflict. Always running away from it.

He knew he fucked up. You weren’t overly sensitive, but he knew what he said was over the line. Especially since you were simply trying to help him. But he also needed that moment. So, he shamefully let you sit upstairs with your thoughts. You had an issue of letting things ruminate in your head for far too long.

Letting the tears fall you continued to clean the bathroom in silence. Why were you like this? As soon as you got comfortable with someone you seemed to ruin it with your dumb ass brain. You should’ve known he was exhausted. He’d been gone for nearly two weeks. Cases never ended well when he was gone for over a week let alone two. You should’ve backed off the second he started giving you short answers. Stupid stupid brain ruining everything.

Once you finished you thought it best to spend some time back at your own apartment. The last thing you wanted to do was annoy him into breaking up with you. Tip towing downstairs you found him asleep on the couch. Biting your lip, you scribbled a note letting him know you went home making a dumb excuse that your friend needed you. As much as you wanted to spend the night with him, he clearly needed it alone.

It wasn’t long after you got home that your phone buzzed. Looking down you saw Aaron was calling. Deciding it best to give him space you decided not to pick up. When it rang for a second time you answered, “Hey.” Why were those stupid tears threatening to spill again?

“Sweetheart where are you?”

You frowned, “Home. Emma needed some help with a dress.” You partially lied. Your friend Emma really did need help hemming her dress, something you were oddly good at. But she wasn’t coming over until the weekend.

“Oh, are you coming back after? We can make Spaghetti, your favorite.” You knew this was his attempt to apologize. Quickly realizing in the relationship that Aaron was a quality time kind of guy, his true love language.

Should you? You weren’t feeling great about the whole thing and a night away might make the heart grow fonder, “I don’t think so Aaron. I’m tired and she’ll be over for a while.” Another lie. You hated doing this to him but you just couldn’t confront it head on. It just wasn’t something you were ready for.

“Oh, okay.” He sounded sad. It made your heart lurch just thinking about it, “Come over tomorrow after work?”

“Yeah, sure.” You knew you were being short with him but God, you just didn’t want to annoy him. A specialty you’d seemed to master.

“Everything alright sweetheart?”

Everything was not alright, “Yeah, just a bit tired. I should get going, she’s almost here.” You hardly heard the confirmation on the other end of the phone before you hung up on him.

You didn’t sleep well nor work great the next morning. Aarons comments ringing in your ears over and over again. When it came time to go home you took his route home. Knowing you had to confront this at some point. Aaron would make you. He always did. As bad as he was with words, he always made sure to talk things out.

Somehow, his black SUV was parked in the driveway. You had an inkling feeling he was going to beat you home no matter what. He might’ve even taken the day off today. Walking through the front door you found Aaron in the kitchen cutting up some tomatoes.

“Sweetheart.” He smiled while dropping the knife and walking over to you. Wrapping you in a tight hug he made sure to give you an extra squeeze. He was a profiler after all, he knew something was amiss.

“Hi.” You mumbled in his chest. Breathing him in completely you let your eyes close as you leaned into him. He was clearly trying to make it up to you now, might as well let him.

“Have a good day?” He asked while prying you away from his chest.

Shaking your head you decided to answer honestly. The little white lies you told yesterday making you feel gross, “No, not really.” Yawning you leaned your head back into his chest.

He starting brushing through your hair with his fingers having an inkling as to why, but he needed to know for sure. He hated hurting you. You were nothing but sweet to him and he returned it by snapping at you? He’d done it to Jack as well. He knew it was something he needed to work on even if he wouldn’t say it out loud.

“And why’s that?” He asked softly making sure not to startle you.

“Didn’t sleep great. Then my boss decided to put me on the worst project. Pipes.” You sighed. It wasn’t an attack on you, every project manager had to have a hellish utility job. You were just next on the list. It couldn’t have come at a worse time though. Pipe work meant constant oversight, and anything could shut the project down. Tedious and annoying but necessary, you knew it.

“I’m sorry honey.” He confined brushing through your hair.

“It’s fine.” You signed closing your eyes as you listened to his heartbeat. You weren’t in the mood to talk which was strange for you. You always wanted to talk. To dive a little deeper. Understand him a bit more. But you weren’t feeling it. Was it actually your mood or were you just terribly self-conscious now? You refused to ask that question as you shoved it to the back of your mind.

“You sure it’s fine? You’re awfully quiet. I miss my chatty girl.” He knew he needed to apologize. He should’ve just spit it out already. But he wanted to see if he could see if it was anything more. He’d never seen you so down and out. You were always there with a smile and seeing you so sad had him worried. Had he done that to you? Did you not sleep because of him?

You nodded into his chest, “Yeah, ‘M just…” You paused. Was it really worth not telling the whole truth? Aaron would figure it out. He probably already had. He was doing that profiler shit on you now. As annoying as it was you grew to love it. It was him. You loved him. Everything about the man intrigued you, “Tired.” You finished. Not the whole truth and you knew it.

“Honey.” He kept brushing through your hair knowing how much it calmed you.

Feeling a little surge of bravery, you looked up to him, “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dismiss you yesterday.” He paused giving you a brief kiss on your forehead but not giving you enough time to respond before he continued, “I love all your questions. I really do. It’s just this last case was rough. And I know that’s no excuse to treat you like that. It’s just… this guy. He targeted women that looked just like you. It’s been an awful two weeks. I just miss you. Please stay?”

“Oh Aaron,” You frowned but squeezed him tightly, “I’m so sorry. If I had known…”

“I should’ve told you. Don’t apologize. I should be the one apologizing.” He kissed your forehead again holding it there. Just holding you in his arms.

Feeling so safe and secured in his arms made you feel every emotion all at once. Thrilled that he still felt the same about you. Embarrassed you took it so personally. Scared you would mess this up. So in love with the guy who recognized so easily what was bothering you. It was all too much for you. You couldn’t try to stop the tears that flowed down your cheeks even if you tried.

Aaron pried you away from him taking your head in his hands. Softly he wiped away the tears with his thumbs with a sad look on his face, “I’m so sorry sweetheart.” His eyes searched your face for anything. His heart breaking just a little more seeing your hurt expression across ever feature.

Nodding, that’s all you could do. Absolutely you accepted his apology. He was so sincere with it you know he meant everything with his entire heart, “It’s okay.” You managed to choke out between breaths. After a moment the tears finally stopped. You’d normally be horrified by the sudden outburst but with him you weren’t. You knew he had you.

“It’s really not. I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again.” He assured you wiping away the final tears.

“Thank you, Aaron.”

He pulled you back into him, “I’m not perfect but I promise you I’ll try.”

“I know that.” You beamed up at him. You felt so much better. Words always helped, running away never did.

“I love you, my dear.” He smiled down at you while rocking you back in forth in his arms.

“And you know, I love you too.”

Taglist: @twilightlover2007 @morgthemagpie @ashie-babie @buckybarnessweetheart @wendy234678 @adhdannieedison @emilykolchivans @aurabambi @pipecleanerweyesfp @simp4f1 @ghostridrr @sunflowers-4

[xetswan]

By Your Side- Prologue

(Joshua Washington X Reader)

(Until Dawn)

[Prologue] [One] [Two]

“Hey sissy.” Jessica jumps on the end of my bed with a huge grin. I raise a brow, closing my laptop.

“What is it, Jess?” I let out a large sigh causing her to pout out her lip.

“Oh come on, I just wanted to hang out with my older sister.” She nudges my calf, scooting closer to me on the bed.

“Right, you haven’t called me sissy in years.” I call her out, to which my little sister scoffs. Shaking her head in disagreement to my statement.

Right now we’ve been home alone, our parents out for some business trip or so they say. They do this every month or two, telling us a business trip came up that they have to go to when in reality we all know it’s just a mini vacation they want to take without feeling guilty. Something they shouldn’t have to feel guilty for.

“Uh, yes I have. Just the other day. Maybe I just want to say it again.” Jessica argues with me and I let out a small chuckle.

“Okay, I’ll keep you to it, sissy.” I mock her, she tries to hide it but she breaks out into a smile as well.

“Okay, fine. I overheard Hannah saying we’re going to the lodge! Did Josh say anything to you about it?” She hops up on her knees, bouncing on my bed a little bit. “It was mentioned but I don’t think I’m going.” I let out a nervous laugh, I watched as her eyes bulged out of the sockets along with her mouth hung wide open.

“You have to go! Mom and dad won’t let me go unless you do.” She grips on my knee shaking me aggressively.

It’s not that I don’t want to go.

It sounds fun as heck but lately Josh has been acting a little more flirtatious with me and I’m not up for an awkward weekend of the group making fun of us. Ever since Thanksgiving he started becoming more flirty with me. I went to his family’s dinner and I don’t know.

I like him, of course I do. Who wouldn’t in my position I just don’t want our friendship to get messed up in the heat of things.

“I.. I don’t know Jessie. I have a lot of homework to catch up on.” I lie, I’m all caught up. I only have three classes so I also have time to work.

“[Name], please. I’ll clean your car whenever you want me to! And your dishes! For a month!” She pleads with me. I bite the tip of my thumb thinking about it. A weekend with friends might get out minds off of things. Josh might not bother me as much as I think he will. I close my eyes.

“Okay,” I breathe out, “okay, I’ll go but please try to make sure the pranks against me are at a minimum. And don’t worry about cleaning my things.” I slouch down a tad bit only to be brought back up by my sister who squeals and hugs me. “I can’t wait for the invitation to make things official!” She lets me go and excitedly leaves my room.

I hear her call Ashley which surprised me. I didn’t expect her to really become friends with Ashley. It’s better than Emily though.

I check my phone that pings a few times, Josh and Chris’s names pop up and I roll my eyes at what they’re saying.

“Partying it up on Mount Washington!!!!!!!!! What you guys think?” Josh using way too many exclamation points.

“I’m in, you know it!” Chris sends with multiple emojis and I snort out a laugh.

“[Name], how about you?” Josh puts a little winky face to which I roll my eyes, a smirk still laid upon my lips though.

“Hm, I don’t know.” I respond back, Chris sends a gasping face emoji in response to my message.

“You’re the life of the party you have to be there:(“ Chris says.

“Is it worth my time though?” I tease them, obviously I already told Jessica I was going. I’m not backing out of my word but it is fun to mess with my boys.

“Oh wowww, can’t believe Miss chugger won’t come to a party… with provided alcohol.” Josh says, my jaw slacks open in shock.

“Hey, Miss chugger is in the past, dead even and she’s not coming back.” I remind him. In high school we of course were bit of partiers.

I was the worst of the worst when it comes to drinking. I’d out drink everyone, chugging disgusting beers, taking shots of pure vodka like it was nothing. Just thinking about those days makes me want to vomit.

“I miss her:(“ Chris comments,

Josh puts the laughing emoji, “me too:(“ I roll my eyes once again.

“Shut up, I’m coming I already told Jessie I would. Miss chugger on the other hand you guys can forget it.” I turn my phone off after I hit send, getting back on my laptop to watching YouTube videos like I was before Jessica rudely came into my room.

“C’mon, sissy, everyone else is already waiting for us!” Jessica dramatically tugs me onto the cable car.

“You’re really sticking with Sissy now?” I scrunch my face, throwing my backpack onto my back since I just had to get my hat out, somehow I forgot how cold it actually was going to be up here. I was currently wearing a little puffer jacket, a pink slightly cropped sweater underneath with low rise jeans.

“Of course, I told you I might want to say it again and I do!” She folds her arms. I shake my head. “Okay, sorry.” I jokingly say.

As the cable car goes up I glance around. Taking in the beauty of it all.

I used to come up here with the Washington’s for the summer sometimes, this also isn’t my first winter up here. I love the Washington’s, they’ve always welcomed me. It was nice to have a place where I didn’t always have to take Jessica with me since she’s my younger sister our parents always expected me to have her tag along.

I love her and all but it’s cool to have my own time too.

“Look, I see them!” She points over to the group who were actually waiting for us. I glance over and they’re waving to us, so we do it back.

Jessica was practically on the edge of her seat excited to get off. As it gets to where we need to be we rush off and get greeted with hugs from our friends. Even if we’ve seen them just days or a few weeks ago.

“It’s nice to see you actually came!” Josh jokes with me, pulling me into a tight hug.

“Yeah, it was a tough decision.” I mess with him. Chris gives me a small side hug.

“Ready for the weekend Chugger?” He takes my hat off to which I slap him on the arm.

“Chugger doesn’t exist anymore. Give me that!” I jump up to grab from the blond.

“I think I’ll wear it.” He places it on his head. “Doesn’t this look nice on me, Josh?” Chris turns to our other friends as we all start walking. “Oh man, I’d totally take you to the bone zone if you were a girl.” Josh says and I let out a sort of loud laugh.

“The bone zone? God you are so corny.” I hold my stomach.

“Okay, okay, calm down. It wasn’t that funny.” Josh pats my back. Chris tries to hold back his laughter as well.

“Are we almost there yet, my feet are killer from the work out I did earlier.” Matt speaks up from behind us, we stop and turn.

“Just a little bit always, princess.” Beth replies to him. “Ha-ha, I’m serious. I might’ve did a little too much.” He mainly comments the last part to himself. I then hear Mike and Emily flirting with each other making me want to gag but then I also notice how Hannah was staring at them, well staring at Mike.

We began walking again and I slowed down a little bit.

“Hey, Han.” I nudge her arm. She snaps out of her thoughts looking at me.

“Hey [Name].” She gives a small smile. “You like him?” I whisper, her face suddenly then drops.

“Who told you? Did Josh read my journal or something?” She starts to panic but I shush her, calming her down.

“No, no, I saw the way you were looking at them. Either you like him or it’s Emily which is kind of doubtful considering I didn’t think you swung that way. It’s not a bad thing if you did.” I rambled on a little bit, causing her to snicker shaking her head.

“It’s him, I didn’t think I was that obvious.” She shyly rubs her hands together, most likely trying to give herself warmth.

“It’s probably not, I just enjoy observing people sometimes.” I assure her.

“Oh, okay. Well I’ve actually done some observing myself and it seems like you’re avoiding my brother.” She calls me out, my mouth instantly closing having nothing to say in response to that spot on observance she had.

“What? I haven’t- I’m not avoiding him.” I disagree, glancing up to see Josh, Chris and Matt messing with each other as Mike cheers for god knows what they’re doing. “Right, so you not coming over on the weekends to hang out with Josh after Thanksgiving is you not avoiding him?” She questions me.

“Exactly it’s not.” I try to stay confident with my answer, attempting to keep a straight face but once I look at her we both burst into laughter.

“Fine, fine! I am.” I sigh out, kicking the snow as we walk up the trail. “But why? You guys never have a problem.” She frowns.

“It’s a long story.” I bite my bottom lip thinking about all that’s happened.

“We have some time before we get to the house.” She says, shrugging her shoulders. I glance up ahead again, seeing as everyone was pre-occupied with each other.

“Josh and I sort of got flirty with each other. Your brother was super headstrong with it. I kind of did it back. We kissed a few times on Thanksgiving night and since that night I was scared it would ruin our friendship so I cut back. I gave excuses to not come over.” I let out in a low voice so only she could hear. Hannah smiles at me sweetly.

“I know I’m a jerk for it but it’s just my anxiety taking over I guess.” I stare at the ground.

“You’re not a jerk. That also wasn’t a long story.” She comments, both of us laughing once again. “Just talk with Josh. You never know what could happen.” Hannah nudges me, I do it back to her. Both of us smiling. “Okay, I will.” I stand up straighter.

Once we get to the lodge, Josh opens the door dramatically.

“Finally, warmth!” Sam opens her arms, spinning around as she walks further inside. I watch Beth turn the lights on with a smirk watching Sam. “Very exciting.” I agree, tugging my jacket off, holding it in my arm.

“Party time!” Mike announces earning the rest of us to cheer. Josh, Chris, Ashley and I go get our rooms, well Josh is showing us to ours, I’m the last one too. He turns a familiar corner and I start to fold my arms.

“This is your room, Josh.” I point out. “Nice observation.” He smirks, taking my jacket and back from my hands he places them down with his on a chair that’s up against the wall. I shake my head, chuckling.

“Where’s my actual room that I usually sleep in?” I lean against the doorway.

“Oh c’mon, babe. Just this weekend.” He comes up to me, taking one of my hands. “Just this weekend, what?” I raise a brow, confused but also intrigued. He leads me into the room, sitting me down before going back to close the door.

“I mean we both know how we feel about each other. It’s pretty obvious.” He concludes, not exactly looking me in the eyes. “And how do we feel about each other, Joshua?” I stare up at him. His eyes finally meet mine, and it looks like he melted just from our eye contact.

“Y’know…” He mutters, coming closer. “I don’t.” I tease him, standing up to push him down on the bed so I’m in between his legs this time. His hands find my hips, aggressively he squeezes them, lowly groaning.

“[Name], please, you don’t understand what you do to me.” He pulls me closer to him, my chest practically in his face. I feel my face warm up, I wasn’t expecting this. My hand drags up his torso to his face, cradling it as I force him to look up at me.

“Let’s try this out.” I whisper. His eyes lighten up, I feel his grip tighten even more.

“What- what do you mean?” He adjusts himself on the bed, I still stare at his face. “Let’s try out the relationship thing,” I begin and a smile erupts on his face.

“But, if this doesn’t work out, we don’t let our friendship get awkward.” I practically am begging with my facial expression. “It will work out.” He pushes me back a little bit so he can stand up. He kisses me gently, first on the lips then trailing down to my jawline.

“We should get going back down before anyone gets suspicious.” I hum out, feeling his lips begin to touch my neck. I try to push on his chest but he’s gripping my sides so tightly like I’ll run away.

“Let them.” He takes a small break only to work on my neck again. “Josh.” I gasp. He snickers, finally stopping. His eyes trail all over my face then to my neck.

“You might want to cover that up.” He taps the spot he was attacking before grabbing his phone from the bed and walking out. My face scrunches up, confused at first but then I rush over to the mirror, I let out a loud gasp.

“Joshua!!” I hold my neck and I hear him let out a laugh. I sigh, going over to the chair with our stuff and dig in it, finding a stupid thin scarf I brought and neatly wrap it to hide the hickey he gave me.

I finally start heading downstairs, joining the rest of the group who were planning out what we’re doing for the weekend.

Later that night Josh and Chris decided to do a drinking game, I sat next to Josh as Chris sat across from us.

Beth and Sam were watching everything go down. “Come on Chugger, you gotta join us.” Chris practically whines, my eyes roll in response. “I told you she’s dead. Now knock it off.” I wave my hand in a swift movement.

“I liked Chugger, she was sexy.” Josh whispered the last part into my ear. I shove him away from me as my face warmed up.

“What was that? Care to share with the class?” Sam speaks up and I felt my eyes widen.

“Chugger, she was a sexy woman back in the day.” Josh announces and my body shrivels down in embarrassment. “She was a careless teenager.” I disagree. “Same thing.” Chris shrugs his shoulders, picking up a beer and beginning to take the first sip.

I watched as the two get shitfaced with Beth and Sam, us three talking about school work or just things going on in our lives.

Sam decides to join the others and I think Hannah went to go write or something, Beth and I are now taking pictures on our phones acting stupid.

Josh and Chris are passed out now.

“I’m glad you decided to come.” Beth smiles at me and I nod, putting my phone down.

“Me too, even if your brother is annoying. I’m still having fun.” I joke, of course forgetting why I have my scarf on I take it off due to me getting hot and my neck starting to sweat.

“He loves you.” Beth mumbles looking over at her drunken brother, laughing. “I don’t know about love but yeah.” I glance over at him, his face smushed on his arm with his mouth wide open.

“Oh my god.” The girl suddenly whispers and I snap my head over to her. “What? What is it?” I look down at myself to see if she accidentally dropped something on me.

“Is that a hickey?” She flicks the spot on my neck, I hiss, slapping her hand away.

“Is that from Josh?” She breaks out into a small laughing fit.

“What- no, it’s- maybe.” I couldn’t find a good excuse okay? Kill me. “That’s hilarious, Matt owes me fifty bucks.” She throws her head back.

“You bet on our love life?” I crossed my arms. “Everyone practically did. Even Chris.” She gets up to start cleaning after Josh and Chris.

I just sit there, in shock from what she just told me.

Beth leaves the room and I go back to sitting beside Josh, laying my head down on his shoulder. He moves around a little bit. “Hm?” He hums and I shush him.

“Sorry, just wanted to be by you.” I whisper. He grumbles a little bit but harshly leans up to put his arm around me, laying his head back down on his other arm. I smile to myself, laying down on my arm, cuddling up next to him. Our legs now sort of entangled together. I didn’t drink or anything but the tiredness of traveling finally hit me.

I don’t even know how much time has passed but that was until I heard the ending of a conversation.

“Just because he’s class Prez doesn’t mean he belongs to everyone… Mike is my man.” I hear Emily say as they leave the kitchen.

“Hey, Em. I’m not anybody’s man.”

“Whatever you say, Darling!” She sings. I lift my head up for a second but then shrug, going back to sleep, I hear someone walk in but I just ignore it.

Thinking I was going to get to fall asleep for longer I instead get Beth walking in to continue cleaning up, I still let Josh hold onto me but I sit my head up to watch her.

“Hey did you see that? Dad said it’d just be us this weekend.” She turns to us but sees the two boys still passed out.

“Josh?”

“He’s been passed out, love. I don’t think you’ll be waking him up anytime soon.” I give her a sad face.

“But what did you see?” I ask. “I thought I saw someone outside. I swear I did.” She frowns, glancing at the window again but she heads over to the counter.

She picks up a bottle that’s in front of us and empty by the way. It’s an older scotch, Jeremiah Cragg.

“Jeez, Josh… Once again brother you outdone us all. She pats the arm that he has around me and I tiredly laugh. I then watch her spin a paper around, picking it up to read it.

“Oh my god. What did our naive sister get herself into now?” Beth turns to us and I raise a brow. “What?” I ask. “Here.” She hands me the paper and I read it. I close my eyes letting out a long breath.

“I think they found out about Hannah’s feelings. This has to be a prank.” I gently pull Josh’s arm off of me and I stand up, placing the paper down and they we look outside to see Hannah crying, running past the window.

“Oh my god.” I gasp.

“Wake Josh I’ll go to the others, I hope that wasn’t Hannah.” She runs outside, I nod. Going over to the passed out drunk. I overhear the others yelling outside for Hannah and then hear Beth run after her sister.

“Josh, Joshua, hun.” I push his body. His snore becomes a little louder and I bite my bottom lip. “Babe, c’mon wake up, Beth and Hannah ran outside.” I say a little loud, shaking him more aggressively.

“What?” He becomes more awake.

“They what?” He lifts his head up.

“The others played a prank on Hannah, I’m guessing it was bad because she ran outside and Beth followed from what I heard.” I tell him, now he’s more alert and he drunkenly stood up. He stumbles a bit so I run over and get him a water.

“Here, drink and let’s go.” I tell him. Suddenly when we saw the group he sobers up.

“What the hell did you guys do!?” Josh angrily shouts, he was holding my hand for support.

“It was just a prank, Josh, we didn’t mean for it to upset her like that.” Emily steps forward and I glare at her. Then at Mike, then to Jessica.

“Especially you, Jessica.” I point a finger at her, her head goes down.

“I can’t believe you guys would do something so stupid like that.” I shake my head, disappointed.

“I tried to warn her, I was too late.” Sam tells me and I smile weakly. “Let’s just hope they come back soon.” I frown.

Soon never came though.

After thirty minutes Josh began to panic and I woke Chris up. Catching him up with everything as we decided to go look for the two sisters.

I called the police and mountain patrol but we never found them.

For months we did search parties, I stayed by Josh’s side, knowing it’s a tough time for him. I barely passed two semesters as I was always with him trying to help.

I didn’t mind it though. I wanted to make sure he was okay. I knew he wasn’t. His parents were rough on him, telling him it was his fault since he was drunk.

It wasn’t his fault. It was our stupid friends fault for playing that dirty prank on Hannah the way they did.

It’s about a year now and no one has even seen a sign of them…

It’s horrible.

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 11

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 14.9k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Fingering, shower sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, Marcus Pike the Breeding Kink King, a dash of dirty talk, the tiniest whiff of roleplay, sexual activity in a public place, cum eating. False accusations of cheating, gossip rags being gossipy, descriptions of getting a tattoo (needle mention). Summary: The end of your trip to Texas comes with a few surprises, and a meeting with your mother goes far better than expected. But good things do not guarantee paradise forever. Notes: Hi my lovelies! I do apologize for the spotty posting timeline lately. My health has been inconsistent to say the very least and continues to be unpredictable. Thank you for bearing with me and always being so incredibly supportive. I'm certain that I missed fixing some errors in this chapter, but I blame the migraine I've have for the last 10 days. Enjoy this week's chapter!

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10

The last night you and Marcus are in Texas comes after an afternoon-long barbecue that somehow manages to outdo every barbecue of every previous day. You're pretty sure that you've been nibbling constantly since sunrise but rather than being overwhelmed, you're just sorry that you're going to have to leave tomorrow and not see most of these people again for a long time.

The water in Marcus's hand is for you and he comes over to drop a kiss on your lips as he presses it into your hand. "Band is starting at seven." He tells you. "Do you want to shower beforehand?"

"Probably should." There's mischievousness in your agreement, though, and you tuck a smirk in the corner of your mouth as you take the water from him. "I saved my cutest top for tonight. To be the very best groupie I can be."

"Oh really?" He chuckles at how eager you have been to meet his old bandmates. "I like groupies." He smirks, wrapping his arm around you and tugging you close. "Really like them."

"Do you want to show me how much?" You ask, letting that smirk loose but keeping your voice very quiet even when you bat your eyelashes at him.

"I can do that while we shower." He groans wickedly, winking at you. "Unless you want to save that for after the show?"

"No need to save," you assure him easily, drinking down half of the glass of cold water he brought you and letting your grin grow wider. "There will be hours in between. We can do both."

"Insatiable." He grins back and you, wrinkling his nose slightly and proud about that fact. "I love it."

"C'mon." Grabbing his hand, you head for the house with a bitten back grin. Back inside and upstairs to his room – now appropriately defiled by the fact that you're in that Early Relationship Honeymoon Period and horny as hell – to add his childhood bathroom to the list of places you've fucked on this property.

Marcus smirks when there’s a number of suggestive whistles that ring out. Everyone here aware of how eager the two of you are and he gives a halfhearted wave before disappearing. You might be embarrassed if you cared at all, but his cousins have been nothing but welcoming and accepting. They all seem to share the opinion that Marcus has waited too long to meet his match and you are more than happy to be the one that they have welcomed as their cousin – or nephew or son's – perfect match.

“I love them all, but I need to get you alone.” Marcus huffs as he practically races over to the stairs.

"Alone, naked, and wet, I hope." You're on the stairs just ahead of him, the advantage of one or two steps meaning your ass is right in his face as you hustle up to the second floor.

"How wet you are depends on how good of a job I do turning you on." He can't help himself, reaching out and slapping your ass, something you love if your delighted giggle is anything to go by. "How wet are you?"

“Wet enough that if you even touch me over my clothes, I’m going to moan,” you admit, glancing back at him when you reach the top of the stairs.

"Promises, promises." Marcus reaches out and cups your pussy from behind, jumping up the last two steps to press close to you. "Fuck, I love you." He growls into your ear as he rubs your clit.

“Oh fuck—” Maybe it’s more of a whine than a groan but the arousal in your voice is unmistakable. Pressed between Marcus and the wall, your hips rock to get as much pressure and friction from his hand as absolutely possible. “I—I love you too, baby. Fuck.”

"Shower." He orders softly, pulling away from you reluctantly. He knows he can't fuck you in the hallway and his cock is already pressing against his shorts.

Since the discovery of your interest in a more submissive role sexually, you and Marcus have been enjoying playing with the dynamic. Soft orders for things that he knows will bring you both pleasure. Seeing how well you follow his instructions while he’s inside of you in any way. Right now you move with long strides to get to the shower as quickly as possible, already shedding your clothes along the way.

Smirking as he watches the rushed strip show, Marcus pulls his own shirt over his head. He's never had someone so enthusiastic for his touch and it's honestly its own kind of high. Plenty of women wanted him, but not with the hunger that you constantly display. He can only hope that it never changes. "So sexy." He huffs, unbuttoning his shorts to step out of them as he follows you.

“Oh yeah?” As soon as the water is on, you glance back over your shoulder and throw him the most tantalizing glance you can possibly summon. “Come and show me how much.”

“Fuck.” He hisses and immediately rushes forward to crowd into the shower with you, pressing kisses to your back as he folds in closer to you.

Marcus might be testing the waters with how dominant he’s comfortable being, but he still likes it when you show him how much you want him. When you hum at the feeling of his hands on your skin or moan deep in your throat at the perfect kiss. He even loves moments like these, when you whimper at the way his large hands spread over your body to hold you as close to him as you can possibly be without him being inside you.

“Love you.” He whispers into your skin, not wanting you to forget it in the two seconds since he has said it last.

“I love you, too.” Pressed into that little space together, you twist your head around to kiss him and then lean forward against the wall. There aren’t too many comfortable ways to fuck standing up under falling water, but having him press into you from behind is good no matter where you are.

His hands slide over your body and one sinks between your thighs. Immediately parting enough for his hands with a quickness than has him smiling. “You like when I finger you?” He teases. “Rub your sensitive little clit for you?”

“I like every way you touch me.” Your hips roll as if to prove it, searching for the right angle to get his thick fingers to sink inside of you.

“Greedy.” He chuckles softly. “That’s what you are.” He doesn’t pull his hand away, giving you what you want as two fingers slip inside you. “My greedy girl.”

“Can’t blame me for getting addicted.” You moan, forehead pressed against the tile, when his fingers scissor open inside you. “You feel so fucking good baby.”

“You feel better.” He groans quickly, working you open as the hot water rushes over you.

“Made just for you, baby.” If there was ever anyone you could truly feel that about, it’s Marcus. The way he seems to make you feel complete in ways you didn’t know you needed or even wanted is uncanny and beautiful. And the way he fills you to bursting is just as fantastic.

Marcus worships you with small kisses as his fingers move inside you, groaning in your ear about how good you feel. The thick length of him pressed against your ass. “Marcus—” His name is a whine and a prayer with every long stroke of his fingers. “Please, baby. Please fuck me.”

“I’m going to.” He promises, grinding against your ass as he continues to finger you. “Too bad you still have your birth control.” He moans in your ear. “Dreamed about you pregnant last night. Nice and round with my baby.”

“Fuck.” If anyone had suggested pregnancy or breeding or any of those fertility-related kinks to you before Marcus, you might have laughed them out of your bedroom. But in a few short weeks, you’ve got from wanting children but not looking forward to being pregnant — all the way to getting wet at the thought of starting to swell with Marcus’s baby. The impulse to promise you’ll stop taking it tomorrow is right on the tip of your tongue but you know it’s just a touch too soon. “Yeah?” You breathe instead. “You woke up hard to the thought of fucking me full of your baby?”

“Why do you think I was ravenous this morning?” He asks, chuckling at how he had woken you up. He had been a little embarrassed by the dream, so he hadn’t mentioned it at the time, but realized later that it was dumb to keep it from you. “When you’re ready, I’m going to be feral.”

“We need to start building that house now.” You insist, suddenly possessed of a whole new set of reasons to be eager for more privacy.

He chuckles as he nibbles on your shoulder, moving to the hollow of your neck. “Yeah? You want to paint a nursery right away baby?”

“We’re gonna have to if you keep growling about getting me pregnant.” Something which you apparently find far sexier than you anticipated, if the way your cunt throbs and pulses around his fingers is any indication.

"You love the idea." He challenges softly, humming against your pulse. "It's not my fault you're so perfect I can see the future we have in store."

“I love the idea so much I’m ready to say let’s just buy a house.” The throaty laugh you let out burns into a long moan when he curls his fingers inside you. “Need you, baby.”

"Never want you to say that I don't give you what you want." He pushes your feet apart, careful not to let you slip on the slick tile and pulls his fingers out of you to immediately replace them with his cock. A smooth transition planned to keep you from missing the fullness.

There is more freedom here, at least where volume is concerned, and when your moan bounces off the tile it is music to Marcus's ears. The utterly satisfying fullness of having him inside you is indescribable, even if you have tried to find the words several times talking to Syd. Sharp, powerful strokes will work you both up to your peak quickly, letting you enjoy the water that burns as hot as your skin as he pounds into you.

Marcus has learned that going harder is needed sometimes. It’s something that both of you enjoy and lose yourselves in, always making sure that you are still with him with filthy sweet praises in your ear. “My perfect princess.” He groans. “Taking me so well.”

It’s so much filthier coming from such a sweet, unassuming man like Marcus, and he presses you into the wall with a firmness that leaves absolutely no room for questioning. You are his. He is yours. And anything you moan to each other in the throes of passion is fair game. Filth, praise, and everything in between is welcome as your hips slap against your ass and your throat strangled around the endless cries of pleasure.

It’s never been this good. It’s cliched to even think it, but it’s true. He can barely even breathe when you are surrounding him. Drowning in you happily. “Fuck, I love you.” He promises. His hands squeeze and caress before sinking back between your thighs to rub your clit while he continues to fuck you at a frantic pace.

“Love you so — fuck! — so fucking much.” You practically claw at the wall of the shower when the calloused pads of his fingers find your swollen clit and press in on tight circles. Perfect little circles. “So close baby, so fucking close.”

“That’s it.” He groans. “Want you to cum. Want you to soak me. Need it.” He dips his hips lower and changes the angle that he shreds up inside you.

“Fuck—fuck—can’t wait until you’re fucking me full of your babies, oh god—” He’s already an expert at tearing you apart and putting you back together, and this time will be no exception. Your legs shake with it and your belly tightens, coiling at the base of your spine tightening as pleasure rips through you.

“That’s it, fuck, so good, Princess.” He hisses in pleasure. “Cum for me. Fuck, you feel so good squeezing my cock. I love it.” It only takes two or three more sharp snaps of his hips before you’re calling his name, sure that if anyone else is in the house right now they can definitely hear you but too overcome with pleasure and too full of him to care.

When you cum, it’s like your entire soul melt with his. Your heartbeats align and for a split second, Marcus can’t tell where you end and he begins. Perfectly fused together in ecstasy. As soon as you tighten around him, his thrusts ease, still moving but helping you float down from the precipice. “Good girl, fuck baby, you are so good to me.” He pants in your ear. “So good. Giving me everything, aren’t you? Yeah, you are, I can feel it.”

“Fill me up, baby.” Your legs may be rubber at this point but that sensation of his cum painting your inner walls is worth holding out for. It has you rocking your hips back even more than you need to ride the aftershocks of your own orgasm, hoping to bring him to his.

He loves when you say that. Groaning your name as his pace picks back up. The slap of his hips not quite as sharp, but insistent. “Gonna, fuck baby, gonna fill you up.” He moans in your ear. “Drip me all night.”

From the way his hips start to stutter you know he’s close, and you grind back against him with a low moan. “Gonna be dripping your cum while I meet all your friends.”

“Just the way I want you.” He groans, kissing your shoulder and moaning as he pushes deep, throbbing inside you as he fills you up.

There’s nothing but the sound of running water and panting breath for a minute or two as you both collect yourselves, arms wrapped around each other in the best way you can manage while he’s still inside you and you’re leaning on the shower wall. “I love you so fucking much.” You murmur, giggling softly at the giddy feeling still coursing through your veins.

“I love you too.” He whispers, smiling against your shoulder as the soft aftershocks continue to squeeze him as he softens inside you. “Addicted to everything about you.”

“Glad we agree about that.” It isn’t elegant but you twist around and manage to place a kiss on his jaw. “So…breeding kink, huh?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles sheepishly as he slowly pulls out of you. “Sorry. I know that took you by surprise.”

“Not in a bad way.” You promise him, fully turning around now, to put your arms around him before you both have to clean up. “Surprising but…potentially shared?”

“When it actually happens is still one hundred percent up to you.” He assures you, wanting you to know he would never pressure you, no matter how much he dreams about the future. “But shared, huh?”

“Surprise,” you tease, reaching for a washcloth.

“Every day is an adventure with you.” He chuckles and steals another kiss before he turns his attention to getting ready for tonight.

You’re right on time despite taking an overlong shower, arriving at the club in downtown Dallas in time to see a group of his old friends gathered at the bar.

“Hey.” A carefree grin lights up his face, reunited with old friends and their spouses. The band is about to leave to get on stage so it’s quick backslaps and promises to catch up later after he introduces you proudly. They disappear and it seems like all the other crowd around you to all talk about Marcus.

It’s much the same as it was with his cousins. Quick questions about you — or the occasional “That’s why I recognize you!” — but mostly wanting to tell stories about young Marcus in the olden days, teasing their old friend and gauging your reaction to their stories to decide if you’re good enough for him. You don’t mind of course. Your friends would have done the same if they hadn’t already met Marcus before you got together.

“Hey now.” Marcus pouts and protests but it’s all in good fun. He’s enjoying the stories; taking him back down memory lane. He hugs you tighter to him as he laughs at a college age story, where he had imbibed a little too much and made a fool of himself.

“Everyone got drunk and dumb in college at least once, didn’t they?” You hug his side and grin at him while his friends tease and chatter. “And I’m sure you weren’t the only college student in the world to skateboard across campus in boxers and a cowboy hat. I’m just impressed you didn’t fall off the board more if you were drunk.”

“Hammered.” He confirms with a laugh. “Honestly, I don’t know if I would have felt anything that night.”

“All the better that you didn’t get hurt then,” you laugh with him, enjoying these glimpses into the Marcus of the past. “Though I think we should recreate the look. For posterity.”

“Bachelor party.” He grins, leaning in and kissing you on the nose. “One of those boring co-ed ones where the couple is disgusting and can’t be apart for even one night of debauchery.”

“Cause we’re gross in love.” The smile on your face is blinding, lighting you up from the inside out as you beam at him.

“Yes we are.” He agrees, unable to stop himself from kissing you again, as his friends groan playfully around you both.

“Yeah, yeah.” Marcus’s old college roommate huffs good naturedly and rolls his eyes. This is the guy Marcus had lived with before he moved off campus to live with Lara and he’s always known Marcus Pike to be exceptionally lucky in love. “Lucky bastard.”

“I am.” He agrees with a small nod. “I’m honestly surprised that you aren’t already engaged.” One of his closest college study partners snickers as she shoots you a grin. “He always was rushing into things headfirst.”

“Don’t think he didn’t give me a ring right away,” you joke, holding up the shimmering promise ring on your hand. “But we want to keep our heads on straight, so it’s a promise for now and an engagement a little bit into the future.”

“There’s the Marcus we know and love.” She giggles, taking your hand and admiring the ring. “Honey, it’s gorgeous.”

“Isn’t it?” The little heart-shaped diamonds wink and shine in the dim lighting of the club and you can’t help but smile proudly. “I told him he set a dangerous precedent with this one. If the promise ring is this beautiful then the engagement ring has to be, too.”

“Knowing Marcus, it’s perfectly designed to set with your promise ring.” She guesses, grinning wildly when he shuffles guiltily. “I knew it!” She throws her arm around his shoulder and smacks a playful kiss on his cheek. “Atta boy!”

“You did not buy it already!” You gasp in shock, giggling with unrestrained joy at the embarrassment and glee on his face.

“It’s safe.” He promises, shrugging slightly. “I didn’t want to risk them not having the perfect mate when I came back.”

“You’re incorrigibly sweet.” The idea that he’d gone so out of his way makes you melt on the spot, with warmth in your cheeks and a fluttering extra beat of your heart. “And I love you.”

His group of friends cheers when you kiss this time. For all the shit they give him, they are all thrill Marcus has found his sweet soulmate. Right then, the lights dim and everyone turns towards the stage. “Marcus Pike.” His eyes widen when the lead singer says his name. “Report to the stage. There is a bass waiting to be played.”

“Oh fuck yes!” When you squeal with absolute pure excitement you grab his side and practically cackle with glee. Even Agent Bailey is smirking in her plain clothes. “Go, baby! Go!”

“Oh my Gooooood.” Marcus groans as he’s practically shoved towards the stage and he shakes his head, pointing his finger at the band. “I hate you guys.” He moans, even as he shuffles closer, but they just grin.

“Best night ever!” You call back, grinning from ear to ear as you make your way to the front with his friends.

“This is going to be amazing.” Hooking her arm through yours, Stephanie grins at you. “Have you ever heard Marcus sing?”

“No.” And you pout about it for about two seconds before the glint returns to your eyes. “He always demurs and says he’s not that great but I know he’s being humble.”

Marcus shrugs out of his leather jacket and winds the strap of the bass around his neck and back to quickly strum a chord before adjusting the tension to his liking. “I’m going to hurt all of you.” He huffs, even if he’s grinning out at you.

“You fucking love us.” The lead singer, his old friend Leo, reminds him with a shit-eating grin.

Marcus rolls his eyes and huffs, not even able to deny it. “Which songs are we doing?” He asks instead.

“Set list is next to your pedal,” Leo tells him, grin only growing bolder when Marcus doesn’t deny anything. He knows his old friend misses playing. They’ve talked about it. Hence this silly little stunt. “Just like riding a bike, right Pike?”

He snorts and looks out at the crowd, his eyes automatically finding you and he smiles. “Yeah.” He scoffs. “If riding a bike means embarrassing the shit out of yourself in front of your soulmate.”

“It absolutely fucking does, dude.” Leo laughs, slapping Marcus on the back before he steps up to the mic to hype up the already excited crowd.

Marcus winks at you from the stage and looks at the lineup. Most of them are songs that they performed when he was in the band and quite a few that he knows Leo knows he knows. Apparently this wasn’t just a last minute deal. As Leo introduces the band, Marcus starts the bass chords for the first song.

It’s not the night you were planning — swaying to the music with Marcus with a cold beer in your hand while his friends played. This is infinitely better. Marcus is in his element up on that stage, showing off and playing to the crowd and making sure he finds your eyes every so often. Surrounded by friends and an enthusiastic audience, you could see Marcus enjoying many more nights like this. It makes you all the more glad that his friends decided to surprise him.

The crowd is a mix of older and younger people, the songs favorites and he enjoys the energy of the people singing along. Finally finished and sweating, in desperate need of a beer, he grins when you clap and yell.

"You are absolutely incredible." The second he hops down off the stage; you're practically jumping into his arms to give him a kiss. "And I never, ever want to hear anything about your singing voice again. That might be the sexiest singing ever."

He laughs, catching you easily and spinning you around. “Think you might be a little biased, Princess.” He teases, feeling euphoric and like he could do anything tonight.

"So?" The giggle that bubbles out of you is nothing short of adrenaline-infused joy. "I'm still right."

“Shit.” The laughter is infectious and he joins you. “I need a beer.” He admits, squeezing you close.

"Allow me." You insist, and when he makes a face you hold up a hand, still grinning. "Groupie's privilege."

“Groupie, huh?” He chuckles again and slides his hand down to your ass. “You have someone in mind?”

"Yeah," you poke his side and laugh, wiggling the fingers of your other hand in his face. "The one wearing the ring."

“Ring?” He glances at your hand and smirks. “That’s a pretty ring baby, but I could do better.” He flirts. “Dump that guy and run away with me. I’ve gotta sweet van and I know how to treat a lady.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"You think you can do better for me than my soulmate?" Batting your eyelashes back at him and half playing along, you tug Marcus toward the bar to get him his drink. "He's pretty amazing."

“I know I can.” He snorts, grinning at your playful banter. “You’ve never been with a musician baby.”

"Hmmm." An amused hum barely smothers your grin and laughter. "I have heard that bassists are experts with their fingering."

“Then you know.” He nods as you both slide up to the bar and Marcus orders a draft. He turns back to you. “My fingers are magic, baby.” He promises. “I can take you to the stars.”

It's too hard for you not to giggle at that, leaning into his side there at the bar. "I did know that already, though."

He breaks the character he was putting on and winks at you. “I was merely playing my favorite instrument.” He leans in and whispers in your ear. “Your pussy.”

"Marcus." Your tone is very false in its admonishment, and you're still grinning when you swat at his arm. "You can play her any time you like."

“Now?” He arches a brow in challenge.

You should have known he would jump on it, and you tilt your head at him with a wide-eyed expression. "I mean...not here but..." Glancing around the room proves that there is little cover to be found, and you bite your lip. "Bathroom?"

Marcus smirks and nods to the bartender when he sets his drink down. “Come on.” He takes your hand and drags you away, unable to even drink his beer in his haste to make you cum.

Practically able to feel the heaviness of Agent Bailey's eyes tracking you across the club, you can't bring yourself to care. Not when the promise of his hands on you is so close you can already feel it.

Normally, Marcus would never do this. Not now. But somehow, being with his own friends and playing, seems to have tapped into the wilder side he had exposed when he was younger. Not thinking like an FBI agent at this moment.

The club has two single-occupant bathrooms in a back hallway, and Marcus shoves open the door to the nearest one to tug you inside. "Holy shit." You're giggling again, bubbling over with it. "We're so lucky Agent Bailey trusts you."

“Amazing what a background check and a security clearance will get you.” He jokes as he pulls you to him, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. He knows he can’t be in here too long with you, it would be rude, but he has to touch you right now. You are just adoring him too much.

It's almost too bad you wore jeans tonight, but you had wanted to keep that feeling of fullness after the shower and truth be told the denim inseam still managed to give you a little stimulation on the way out here tonight. Now Marcus pops the top button open with eager fingers and you whimper softly, biting back the sound so no one in the hall outside hears you.

“Gotta be quiet, Princess.” He coos, smirking at your already lust blown eyes. “Can’t let anyone know you’re fucking a musician in a bathroom, can you?”

You’ve never done anything like this before and he knows that, but with wide eyes and the shivering desire to obey, you nod your head and bite back a needy whine. His hand slides down your panties, finding you slick with new desire and the remnants of his cum covering your lips. He groans your name in your ear and immediately pushes two fingers deep inside you.

It takes effort not to cry out. Not to whimper or moan or keen his name at the sharp, sweet intrusion of two thick fingers deep in your pussy. The vaguely taboo tint of doing something sexual in a public place only makes it better — a surprising feeling that you’ll have to bite for later — and you bury your face in the crook of Marcus’s neck, knowing that it will muffle the little bit of sound that you simply can’t swallow in your own throat. He doesn’t draw it out, doesn’t tease you. Just pumping his fingers deep and twisting his wrist to rub your clit as he tries to see how fast he can make you cum for him.

It’s like being sent up in a rocket, where all you can do is lean back against the sink in the little bathroom and hold on tight. He knows your body, knows how to make you see stars without breaking much of a sweat, and the adrenaline from playing on stage that’s still coursing through him keeps the pace of his fingers thrusting inside you at an almost punishing speed that feels amazing.

It’s like his playing a song with your body. The soft whimper echoing the timing of the beat of his fingers. Kissing along your neck as he pants against your skin. Already throbbing in his pants, but this is for you. “Good girl, baby. You’re so sweet for me.” He groans quietly.

There's not really much you're doing for him right now except keeping quiet and spreading your legs so he can dive inside you, but you'll fix that later. You'll lay him out on his bed and worship him for as long as he will let you. Right now your back arches and you have to let go of your white knuckle hold on the counter in order to tug him closer, pouring the moan that you want to let loose into a kiss instead.

He feels when you let go. Your moan muffled by your tongue as your walls soak his fingers in their pulsing grip. Feeling your heartbeat through the sensitive walls of your pussy. It’s so good and he loves that you are enjoying yourself as the bar music plays loudly.

"Fucking hell..." When you can finally breathe again you look up him with a hazy smile. "I'm gonna give you the best blow job of your life later on," you promise him with a grin.

He smirks as he pulls his wet fingers out of your fluttering cunt and holds them up to the dim light of the bathroom. They are shiny with your slick and he reaches out to your lips. “Open.” He orders.

That was not at all the response you were expecting, but somehow it far sexier because of that, and even though you've just cum you can feel your pussy fluttering at what he wants you to do. It only takes a second before you open your mouth, letting him put his fingers heavily on your tongue before you obediently clean them of any trace of your slick.

Marcus groans quietly, cock twitching in his pants and all he really wants to do is bend you over the sink to fuck you this time, but he can’t. You pop his fingers out of his mouth and he hisses at your innocent look. “Good girl.” His voice is raspy and dripping with lust.

"I feel like I should start calling you something." Leaning up, you steal a kiss and then rebutton your jeans so the two of you can wash up and go back out to his friends. "But I don't know if you wanted to be that kind of dom."

Marcus chuckles as he watches you in the mirror. “So you’re telling me you want a red room in our new house, hm?”

"I'm not gonna be mad about it if you want one," you answer innocently. "I just had the very intense urge to call you...'daddy' a second ago, but I didn't know if you'd like it. That's all."

Marcus has never been in a situation where someone would call him daddy so he has to think about it. “Only one way to find out.” He decides, patting you on the ass as you move out from the sink so he can wash his hands.

"I guess we'll give it a try later then." The air dryer in the bathroom is loud enough to drown out any other conversation, so you finish cleaning up and steal yet another kiss before dragging him back out into the club feeling like you're living on Cloud Nine.

Everyone in the group knows what happened when the two of you disappeared. At least to some degree. They might not believe that it was only an orgasm for you, but the grins are wide and Marcus snorts at the whistling and clapping from the guys. You brush it off with burning hot cheeks and a grin and go to get fresh drinks from the bar. Tonight has been pretty fucking perfect in every way you can think of. The best possible way to say goodbye for now to Texas, although you know you'll be back as often as you can be.

Marcus accepts this beer quickly, feeling parched and he winks at you before he takes a sip. “I think she might want me to find a band in D.C.” he teases.

"Oh, ya think?" Stephanie snorts, leaning into Leo's side when he comes over to join you at a high-top table.

"Actually..." Leo smirks, looking down at his soulmate before he glances up and around the group. "The guys know this already but...there was a big reason we were glad Pike showed up tonight." He tips his beer toward Marcus in salute. "Tonight was the last Dallas show we might ever play."

“Really?” Marcus frowns instantly, looking around to the group. “You guys are gonna stop playing?”

"We're moving in about a month." Leo announces. His arm winds around Stephanie proudly and he squeezes her tight to his side. "Steph got an amazing job at George Washington Hospital. So we're actually moving to DC."

“What?” Marcus sputters and starts beaming. “That’s great!”

"I'm really excited," she admits, smiling even bigger and brighter than Marcus is. "So maybe you won't have to find a new band after all."

“Well, we’d still have to find other members.” He look at the guys. “Until you come out to visit.”

"Maybe we'll all move East." Their drummer, Clark, jokes. He takes a sip of his whiskey and leans on the table. "Y'all know anyone that needs an electrician or a carpenter? I could be persuaded."

“We’re gonna be building a house.” Marcus snorts. “You’re hired.” He’s joking, because he would never make that decision without you, but it’s interesting to think about. Clark is the best damn carpenter he knows.

"Actually..." Tilting your head to look at Marcus beside you, you shrug your shoulders a little and have a sip of your drink. "There's some work that needs to get done at the inn, too. I've been putting it off because my electrician retired last year and finding a new guy is a pain."

His brows lift in surprise and Clark smirks. “Really, tell me about it.” He encourages.

"It's a historical property," you clarify right away, knowing that that scares some people off. Which is fine with you, really. If they aren't comfortable working on historical structures, you're not going to work with them anyway. "Of course things have been updated, but the structure is colonial so it does require a little bit of tender loving care."

“That’s awesome.” Clark snorts. “I love historic structures. Have you rewired the entire building or are you having to replace as you uncover issues?” He asks. “Code has changed so much since knob and tube. And that’s recent in a historic home, depending on how historic.”

"I've only owned the property for a few years, so we're having to play catch up from the previous owner." His enthusiasm is met with plenty of your own, and you look back at Marcus with a wide grin. "You just watch how fast I adopt all your friends. I was not exaggerating about that being what my family does."

Marcus laughs and leans back. “Adopt away, babe.” He encourages you. “You’ll get sick of them quickly.” He teases, laughing again when they all shoot him a finger.

Two days after touching back down in DC, the early morning meeting that you have with your mother and the communications staffer whose job it is to wrangle all things concerning the First Kids means that you’re up and moving before Marcus. You’re essentially having breakfast at the White House, which is less cozy than having coffee and muffins with your soulmate, but this meeting is important. You really do have things to talk to your mother about.

The staffers show you to the less formal dining rooms in the apartment, a rare time the president allows business to be conducted here, but it’s important that you feel comfortable.

The family dining room in the White House residence is still beautiful, and honestly you prefer it to the larger state dining room. The smaller and more casual room makes it easier to convince yourself that it’s just a normal breakfast with your mother today. Agent Bailey blends into the background here, noticeably more relaxed when she is around other agents and not working solo. It’s a good morning for both of you, and you move to the sideboard in the room to make yourself a cup of coffee while you wait for your mother to come in.

The communications staffer comes in and greets you warmly, laying out folders by the plates. “Your mother should be here in a few minutes. She was just in a briefing.”

“How are you, Annette?” The senior staffer that’s joining you is a woman that you’ve known for years. She was also on your mother’s staff in Pennsylvania and she is a good friend of the family after so many years working side by side.

“I’m doing well, how about you?” She asks politely and gives you a warm smile. “Your mother told me about your soulmate, I’m so thrilled for you.”

“That’s so sweet of you, thank you.” There’s going to be a lot more talk about Marcus as this goes on if your mother and Annette accept your proposal, but for now you sip your coffee and smile. “The adjustment to DC hasn’t been too bad for you? Everything’s been okay?” A little small talk before your mother comes in and breakfast gets served is actually nice. With everyone being so busy you feel like there are people you haven’t gotten to talk to in ages.

“It’s always crazy, but we are adjusting well.” She smiles. “Brad isn’t too fond of the traffic, but who is?” She snorts. “I keep threatening to steal a diplomatic plate.” She jokes.

"I'll nab them for you," you promise her, sitting back with your coffee and smiling at the way your promise ring glints in the room's lighting. "They can't fire me from being First Daughter."

She laughs, knowing that you are completely joking but it would be funny to see the headlines. “I’ll expect one then.” She teases, picking up her own coffee to sip.

It takes a few more minutes before your mother comes in, but you and Annette sit and chat and pour second (or third, in your case) cups of coffee.

“I’m sorry, Birdie, Annette.” Your mother rushes over to drop a kiss on your head and throw her arms around her friend’s shoulders briefly. “That took longer than I expected.”

“Everything okay?” You’re wildly aware that there is plenty that your mother deals with that you do not have the security clearance to know about, but that isn’t what you’re asking. You’re asking if your mother herself is okay.

“Yes.” She rolls her eyes. “But I wish that people would stop trying to impress me with long winded reports going over every minute detail.” She huffs with a laugh. “My favorite briefing is from DIA Agent York. He gives me the bare bones information and it’s over in less than five minutes.”

“Would he consider it a blessing or a curse to be out on the State dinner guest lists in appreciation for his speedy briefings?” You ask, practically snorting a laugh at breakfast is served.

“Knowing the kind of man he is, a curse.” She snorts, appreciating your joke but also because she would never willingly let a man like Dave York around her family unless he was protecting them.

“Well, it’s nice to know that the chaos around here is just normal chaos.” The smile you offer your mother is fully understanding. The inn is your own beautiful area of normalized chaos.

“Of course. Thank you for coming.” She acknowledges that her life, her career isn’t the center of her children’s lives and she doesn’t take for granted when they make time for it outside the normal Friday night dinners. “I appreciate it.”

“Of course, Mom.” An early morning meeting is a small sacrifice to make, especially when Marcus exhausted you last night trying out a sexy little card game you’d had stashed away since Syd’s bachelorette party a couple of years ago. It’s safe to say he liked the suggestions the game came up with. “There’s coffee, amazing food, and my favourite Mom, why wouldn’t I come? Although Marcus’s mother is pretty great. Solid second place in the Best Mom Ever competition.”

“I wanted to ask you how your week in Texas went.” She admits, pouring her own cup of coffee. It’s her third cup of the day so far, but she’s also been up since four.

“Honestly?” You pause when a staff member sets a plate of hot food in front of each of the three of you and a large platter of pastries and fruit in the center of the table. The chorus of Thank you’s is in unison. “It was fantastic. His parents are great, I got along pretty well with most of his cousins, and even met a bunch of his friends from college. It was…” you grin at The admission forming on your lips. “It was really wonderful. His parents are planning on coming up to visit us here this summer.”

“That’s wonderful.” Your mother lights up and she nods. “We will have to have a family dinner.” She suggests. “Here? Personal tour of the White House? Do you think that would be something they would enjoy? I know his father would probably enjoy a game while he’s here as well.”

“Marcus has season tickets to the Nationals so we’re definitely planning on seeing a game.” The omelets that have been set out in front of you are steaming and you dig in to your plate without hesitation. “I was going to ask you about a tour for them so thank you for jumping on that. And I know they would love to meet you guys. A family dinner would be really great.”

“Marcus is wonderful and I can guarantee that it’s a reflection of his parents.” Your mother hums. “And as your soulmate, I think it’s important that everyone meets and gets along.”

“I know his parents already said they wouldn’t be offended if you were too busy, but I do want you guys to meet.” Donna and Matthew Pike had sworn that they would completely understand if they didn’t see hide or hair of your parents during the trip, but that hadn’t sat well with you. Your parents have always made time for the important things in their kids’ lives no matter how busy they were.

“Absolutely not.” Your mother sounds offended by the idea. “There is no reason, barring a world catastrophe, where we should meet his parents at your engagement party or some other event. “No, if they want to have something low key, we don’t have to meet here. But I am eager to meet them.” She shoots you a grin. “Diplomacy can wait for one evening.”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t pass up the chance to have dinner at the White House.” The grin you send your mother is beaming and appreciative. “That’s a bragging right not everyone gets. There will be plenty of informal meals in the future.”

“Then I will try to make sure that the chef makes something that will measure up to the amazing food Sydney will be plying them with.” If it wouldn’t hurt your business, your mother would have hired her to be the White House chef in a heartbeat.

“I will carry that compliment back to her on a silver platter.” Now that all three of you are eating — devouring — your breakfasts, you don’t mind getting into things. Of course your mother doesn’t have all day for this meeting, but you expect to be sitting here with Annette for at least a little while. “So, before I put my two cents in, what kind of social media and press presence were you thinking you might wrangle me into?” You’re curious, after all. Since Junie has a clear passion and Alex is handsome and personable, whatever route they chose for you was bound to be a little different.

“Well, I was hoping that we could show how small businesses are vital for our economy.” Your mother looks over at Annette who is nodding. “You are a small business owner and you work with others as well.”

“Okay.” You nod, mumbling the word as you finish a bite of food. “So highlighting the small businesses we work with? Making visible visits to other small businesses? That kind of thing?”

“I know that you utilize some of the local merchants for your supplies.” Your mother nods. “Maybe some clips of you with them? We can do a voice over with the message we want to sent.”

“I’ll compile a list of who we have good relationships with and you let me know who you want to have footage of?” It’s a big plug for the businesses that you do actual work with, so you can’t imagine any of them objecting. “Patronizing your local small businesses is a message I’m happy to get behind.”

“Corporations have garnered too much power in the country.” Your mother agrees. “We need to find a balance between them and a simpler time where everyone shopped local.”

“Alright, that’s easy enough.” Although you’re sure that other complications will arise in time, agreeing to this plan is at least something you’re glad to do. “Anything else?”

A look is exchanged between Annette and your mother. A pause that should be concerning. “It’s about…your soulmate.” She begins.

“What about him?” You frown instantly, not liking the tone that has been chosen for this thought.

“I was hoping that you might sit for an interview.” Annette is the one who voices it. “For the Love is Love legislation that your mother is trying to get passed.

“Oh!” The hesitation in their voices is nothing to do with Marcus, really, and you relax measurably. “Yes. We can definitely do that. And actually?” Looking between your mother and Annette, wondering what they’ll think of this idea coming from you of all people. “I think I can do you one bigger than that.”

“What do you have in mind, young lady?” Your mother almost smirks at the idea that you are suggesting something.

“I know I’m not the kid you expect this from.” The look on her face says that loud and clear and you completely understand why. “But Marcus and I talked it over, and we thought we would see what you thought about a First Family love story. From engagement to wedding to building a house.”

As a career politician, it’s been a rare time where your mother has been speechless, but she just gapes at you, her mouth slightly ajar in shock. “I— are you sure?”

"I mean we're not offering to have a White House photographer follow us around every second of every day, but we know that things are going to get said about us no matter what. Our family are public figures, and Marcus grew up with a father in the spotlight. We figured that getting ahead of the narrative and giving people honest glances into who we are was a hell of a lot better than people just speculating wildly."

“That is an amazingly gracious idea.” She can understand that you are going out on a huge limb and that is so appreciated. “Are you sure you would be comfortable with that scope?”

"We've talked through it," you tell her, knowing that it's probably unbelievable for her to hear this coming from you. "And I'm more confident when I have Marcus with me. I feel better able to handle the extra sets of eyes on my life. So...I thought it made sense not to waste that."

“I think that would be incredible.” She reaches out for your hand. “Only what you will give us though. No more.” Your father had reminded her right before leaving for her briefing that you are her daughter and probably the most private out of the three children. You don’t crave the spotlight at all.

"Marcus thought we could start with the engagement," you tell her, knowing that this is a big leap for you and trying not to be nervous about it. "But I think I should put something on my social media about him being my soulmate first. Maybe some photos from a date with a small announcement?"

“It will mitigate any issues that might spring up.” She doesn’t mention how there has been chatter about the congressman being unhappy about the demise of your relationship. That’s not your concern.

"Our favorite restaurant is family-owned, and we can pick something to do afterward that is still small business or community oriented." That shouldn't be too awfully hard, considering the DC area is always crawling with choices for things to do. You're spoiled for it, really.

“Whatever you think would be best.” She smiles at you. “While I would normally have one million ideas, I think it’s better if this is organically from you.”

“I know Marcus already has my engagement ring hidden away somewhere.” A fact which makes your cheeks burn and your smile turn a little dopey. “But I don’t know anything else as far as that goes. Is it okay if I give him your email so he can touch base with you, Annette?”

“Absolutely!” Annette agrees immediately, while your mother looks impressed that your soulmate has already bought your engagement ring. More importantly is your reaction to that information, you look dreamy eyed and she couldn’t be more happy for you. “I must applaud Marcus for thinking ahead.” Your mother hums, taking a small sip of her coffee to hide her smile.

“We’re both thinking ahead.” A fact which gives you no end of pleasure. The flight back from Dallas had been spent in dreams and future plans, cuddled together looking out the window and making up a list of big and small things you wanted for your future together. “We’re starting to plot out what we want for our house, too. That’s the timeline that’s going to take the longest.”

“Your house?” You had mentioned it before, but your mother ticks her head to the side curiously.

“We’re going to build,” you explain, reaching for a scone from the plate of pastries on the table. “Since the land that the inn is on is more than enough and I own all of it, we’re going to use a portion at the back of the acreage to build a house.”

“That sounds like an adventure.” She’s always known you enjoy doing things your way and it’s refreshing to see that apparently your soulmate understands how much of your being is invested in the inn.

“It’s going to feel like a mansion after sharing my apartment in the inn.” After a little discussion, Marcus had decided that he would rather share the smaller space with you while the house is being built and sublet his current place to Clark — ensuring that his friend can have the new start in DC that he wants. “But we’re excited. It’s a whole lot of planning and big steps forward all at once, and for once I really have a partner who’s on the same page as me.”

“That’s the most important thing.” She knows this from experience. There is absolutely no way she would be the current president if your father hadn’t been on the same page as her as far was what their lives might look like. It’s something she’s always wanted for all of you.

“So…I know it’s more than you were going to ask of me.” Which you appreciate. Your mother recognizing and honoring your boundaries is something she had to work on a lot when you were in your teens and twenties. You look at up her and crack a small, bashful grin. “But it seemed a shame to waste the opportunity for something as uplifting and positive as a White House wedding.”

“A White House wedding?” Your mother’s gasp is surprised, honestly believing you would never even entertain an idea like that. “Are you- you’re joking right? It’s not April Fools Day. That was days ago.”

“I am not joking.” Although you can definitely see why she would be shocked. This is not a decision that you made quickly or easily — or alone. “But I do have an ulterior motive,” you admit, wanting there to be full transparency. “I am hoping that a super-secure and publicly documented White House wedding is a trade off for letting us go on our honeymoon alone.”

She doesn’t even glance at Annette. “Absolutely.” Your mother immediately insists. “There is no way I would want any kind of publicity for your honeymoon. You don’t even have to negotiate for that.” It’s honestly alarming that you think she might want you to do something for her political career on your honeymoon.

“Oh, that isn’t what I meant,” you clarify immediately, seeing naked distress in your mother’s face when she’s normally so good at staying neutral. “I meant…without my Secret Service detail. Give Agent Bailey and Agent Sisson a few weeks off while we go overseas. Marcus is very well trained and definitely enough to keep just two of us safe.”

Her expression eases slightly, relieved that’s not what you are talking about and she nods. “I think that will be entirely appropriate.”

“I’m optimistic that we can make sure this works for everyone.” Sitting in your seat in the family dining room, you lean back with a little extra confidence — bolstered by the fact that you know Marcus is with you every step of the way, just like your family. “Make this happy, and exciting, and something to look forward to.”

“Whatever you want.” Your mother agrees. “Whenever you want.” She adds. “I don’t want you pushing up plans for us, sweetheart.”

“We said we wanted to get started on the house before we get engaged,” you tell your mother, though you have to appreciate her insistence here. Plenty of other parents would hack the timeline if they were in her shoes. “So it will depend on how quickly we start in on those plans.”

“And Marcus wants to stay at the inn while you build?” She asks, lifting a brow in surprise. While she has seen your little apartment and thinks that it’s darling, Sam had always insisted it was too small to share space for even more than a day.

“We talked it through and he feels like it’s more important for me to be close to the inn than for his commute to be shorter. He’s going to sublet his current place to a friend that wants to move up from Texas and then the friend can take over the lease when it comes up. We’ll have a little less space than we would if we stayed in his apartment, but we don’t mind close quarters.” A fact which you will not look bashful about right now…no not at all…

“That’s a very solid plan that you have laid out.” Annette compliments. “It seems like you and your soulmate have made a lot of plans.”

“Right now I’d call it our favorite hobby.” Second favorite, but you’re not talking about your sex life in front of your mother…

The president snorts and rolls her eyes as she reaches for another scoop of fruit. “Sure.”

“Anyway.” Forcibly getting the conversation back on track seems like a smart idea. “Annette is my point person, then?”

“Yes.” Your mother takes the hint with a small smile. “I reasoned you would be more comfortable with her than any of the new staff.”

“And I appreciate that.” You offer both your mother and Annette a grateful smile. “Especially since this is going to involve my soulmate, I’m very glad to have someone that I know and trust working with us.”

“I am eager to meet him.” She hadn’t been present at the state dinner, she had been sick, but from what she can tell she will like him.

“Why don’t you come by the inn and have dinner with us sometime in the next week or two?” You suggest, figuring that would be nicer than a formal sit up in an imposing setting. “Something casual for the first time you meet? So we can all relax a little.”

“That sounds perfect.” Annette knows the value of an informal meeting. It often creates a better mood for the entire interaction.

"Awesome." Having everything moving in a comfortable direction is as much as you could ask from this meeting, and it's nice to see your mother semi-relaxed at the start of a workday. "Well, I'm sure you have eighty-seven things to do today Mom, so I won't keep you."

She winces apologetically and looks at her watch. “I’m actually about three minutes late for a cabinet meeting.” She admits, standing up to move over and kiss your forehead again. “Are you and Marcus coming to dinner on Friday?”

"We'll be there with bells on," you promise her. "Go get to your meeting. I love you, and tell Dad I love him too."

“I will, sweetheart.” She promises. “Annette, I will see you later. Take your time finishing breakfast.”

The unfortunate truth is that the dinner with Annette might be necessary sooner rather than later. Within a bare twenty-four hours of the White House Easter Egg Roll and the official photos that refer to Marcus Pike as your soulmate, the commentary on social media and in online tabloids begins.

Marcus frowns as he opens the new story. It’s not uncommon for articles to be inflammatory, he knows that from the state dinner, but this is all but calling you a cheating liar. “Fuck.” He growls, eyes narrowing on the wording from the ‘anonymous source’.

"What's wrong?" Your nose is stuck in the schedule for next week while dinner is in the oven and you sit with Marcus in the living room, but you glance up when he sounds unhappy.

Marcus sighs and turns his phone towards you so you can read the headline. “I hate to accuse anyone, but this fucking sounds like your favorite congressman ex.”

"Sounds more like your ex, if you ask me." Vanessa might look sweet and innocent, but she can be cutthroat and single-minded in her goals when she sets herself to it. Something she learned from her justice father. "Think they're getting their jollies going after us together?"

“Shit- you think?” He ended things on a good note with Vanessa. Actually, she broke up with him, why would she smear his name?

"I don't know what her motive would be besides trying to get under Sam, but I wouldn't be surprised by it." Leaning forward to read the beginning of the article on his phone, you still frown. "I knew somebody was going to try saying we cheated, but damn."

“We know the truth.” Marcus frowns as he rereads the article. “This seems to imply that we are lying about being soulmates.” He looks over to you with a small grin. “That’s proven easily enough.”

"Hmm." That does make you smile, and you look up at him from behind your laptop. "Are you thinking we should stage a little photo on my social media as a response?"

“Absolutely.” He’s not thrilled about the tattoo you both share, but it’s solid evidence of your connection. “Your reputation won’t even tarnish a little.”

"I'm sure I'll get some snide comments about the kind of tattoo we share, but that's on me." You shrug at the truth of it. "I definitely should have gotten it somewhere else."

He laughs and shrugs. “Doesn’t make a difference now.” He reminds you. “It’s on both of our skin, so it’s proof. You’ve had it for years and so have I. Should we post new pictures and old ones with the tattoos?”

"We can do a little album on my Instagram." The suggestion is a welcome one, but it does mean you push your laptop away and set it on the coffee table to snuggle a little closer to him. "You have old photos with the tattoo in them?"

“I do.” Marcus chuckles. “But….” He shrugs. “They were taken by my ex-wife. She’s not in them.” He assures you.

“That’s fine.” Frankly, if Lara gets involved in the conversation it will just reinforce the fact that Marcus has had your marks for a very long time. “I can bribe Agent Sisson to be our photographer for a photo that has both of us in it.”

“And how do we want to casually set up pictures of our lower backs?” He asks with a grin.

“There’s nothing casual about what we’re doing.” You tuck yourself into his side and grin. “This is answering a call out.”

“To address any unfounded and untrue rumors….” He captions with a snort. “Straightforward. I like it.”

"If we wanted to do this casually, I would just say we should go take some pool pictures." You glance up at him, seeing what he thinks of that. "Violating my mom's no bikini rule for a good cause."

“I like bikini’s.” He agrees immediately, his eyes darkening slightly with lust.

"Oh yeah?" The smirk on your face is nearly instant. "Like we should take a tropical vacation level of like?"

“Like you need to book one immediately.” He huffs. “Texas didn’t count as a vacation.”

"Of course it did!" The fact that he's getting all bent out of shape imagining you in a bikini when he sees you naked on a daily basis is adorably, quite frankly. "And you can't even claim it wasn't sexy. We nearly broke that bed."

“Of course we did.” He laughs. “It’s old and we are horny.” He teases, biting his lip as he pulls you close. “But in a bikini, it’s so much less clothing to take off you.”

"You wouldn't even have to take it off." He's getting ideas and you turn your face up to smirk at him, fully encouraging those ideas to take form. "Just shove it aside. Nothing else needed."

“Fuck.” He hisses, clenching his jaw and imagining fucking you on a beach somewhere.

"Gonna keep that imagine in the spank bank, babe?" You can't help but tease him a little, knowing that you would be reacting exactly the same way if it was Marcus teasing you. But you started it this time so you get to tease.

“Fuck yes, I am.” He snorts. “We would get arrested. But it would be worth it.”

"There's a private beach where we could get away with it somewhere." Leaning up to press a kiss to Marcus's cheek, you're still grinning. "Good to know it's on the fantasy list, though."

“Very high up there.” Marcus admits with no shame. Just the freedom to explore these ideas with you is amazing, even if they are never acted on.

"I think..." The only thing that keeps you from shifting into his lap is the kitchen timer going off from the oven. Instead of climbing on to him you just climb off the couch to get to the baked pasta you put together right before Marcus got home from work. "That maybe we should do half the honeymoon in Paris and the other half on the Riviera? Get some swimsuit time in?"

“I like the way you think.” Marcus chuckles quietly, nodding. “How long are we talking? A few days in each place? A week?”

"A week each?" You pull him up from the couch to come to the kitchen with you. There's still a table to set and wine to pour, and all that good stuff. "Two weeks in France sounds like magic."

“I agree.” He grins and grabs the bottle of wine you had set out. It’s become a routine to have a glass with dinner and he enjoys the selection the inn has, although it annoys you that he insists on paying you for the wine.

"A big, beautiful wedding. Two weeks in Paris. A lovely house for us to move into." Every time you think through the plans you're starting to make for the future, they sound better and better.

“That sounds perfect to me.” Marcus admits, smiling softly at the idea. “Have you thought about the style ideas I sent you?”

"I was showing your Pinterest board to Syd on our lunch today." The collection of Dutch Colonial, Queen Anne, Georgian, and Federal style houses that Marcus had put together to share with you is full of so many ideas that you had lost track of time in the kitchen and was almost late to interview a new member of the housekeeping staff. "She likes the Queen Anne style Victorians, of course."

“Of course she does.” Marcus grins as he lifts a brow. “Which one of those were you most interested in?” He doesn’t really mind what architectural style your home is in, as long as you are happy with the result.

Having decided that the edge of the property where you planned to build was far enough from the inn and her out buildings that you didn’t need to be loyal to the colonial structures, you have a little more freedom to choose what you build. “I think I like the Georgian houses you sent me best,” you tell him, setting down two plates of baked pasta in the table at your customary seats. “It complements the colonial style without being obsessive about matching, and it’s not overly complicated.”

“That’s a good choice, and it still fits with the overall theme of the property.” Marcus agrees. “However…one thing I think is a must in our new house.”

“What’s that?” The two of you settle down and pick up your forks, comfortable in the relative quiet of the apartment while Agent Bailey takes one of her occasional walks around the grounds.

“We have to have an elevator in our house.” He’s gotten used to the elevator at the inn and can’t imagine living without one now.

“Non-negotiable?” You tease, knowing that on the nights he goes to the gym after work he groans his way into the apartment on principle. “Noted. You will have your elevator.”

“Thank God.” He dramatically moans and tosses his head back. “Getting older sucks. You’ll see.” He teases about the age gap, but it’s only seven years. “Heartburn is about to start.”

“I was more thinking of our kids,” you admit quietly, poking your fork into a big bite of sausage and zucchini and pasta together. “What if one of them needs the house to be accessible?”

“That thought had crossed my mind.” Marcus agrees. “But we will pray that all our children will be healthy, prepare in case they are not.”

“No matter what, they’ll be cared for and loved.” That, at least, you can both guarantee.

“Plus it will be easier when someone undoubtably breaks a leg.” Marcus snorts, laughing slightly. “It seemed like it was a contest in my family who would break a bone first every year.”

“Kids are gonna be clumsy,” you joke, pointing your fork at him in teasing accusation. “Got it.”

“But they will make up for it with good looks and charm.” He grins back at you and winks.

First Princess Cheating Scandal is the headline splashed across the tabloid on the magazine rack, and your hand twitches before reaching for it. This is the bullshit you absolutely hate about being in the public eye, and now that they’ve started coming for Marcus you hate it even more. The article inside claims that you faked your matching marks — including your scars, which is possible but extremely far fetched — and that you’ve been sleeping together since at least the night of the State dinner.

With another one of those dinners on the horizon and the weariness in your bones over now spending multiple weeks of time on this stupid non-issue, you pay for the magazine and continue on to the J. Edgar Hoover FBI building with it shoved in your purse. Agent Bailey’s advice had been to let it roll off your shoulders because people are always going to gossip, but as much as you’d like to do that it’s possible this might affect your mother’s image. Or your business. Your previously fully booked inn has had multiple cancelled reservations since this whole thing started.

So you walk on, with the little treats you made in a container in your purse and Marcus’s favorite midafternoon coffee order from the shop around the corner to surprise him at the office.

Marcus is pouring over a case when you knock on his office door. He doesn’t keep it closed, preferring to let his team come to him whenever. To feel like they can. Looking up, he sees you and immediately smiles. “Birdie.” He almost said Princess, but since the beginning of this entire ‘scandal’ non-scandal thing, it’s kind of soured the nickname. Immediately abandoning the file, he stands up and rushes around to give you a kiss. “This is a welcomed surprise.”

“I did a little baking with Syd this afternoon and the results were so good that I couldn’t wait to share.” The kiss is a comforting balm, even if it’s short, and you hold up the cup in your left hand. “And I brought your coffee.”

He groans in appreciation, of both the baked goods and the caffeine. “I was just about to get another cup from the break room, but this is better. His hand slides around your back and he rubs it soothingly, seeing the pinch of upset around your eyes but he wants you to talk to him naturally. “Want to come inside? Share it with me?”

You nod and step inside, your own cup from the coffeeshop clutched in your other hand. It’s herbal tea, though. Caffeine didn’t seem like a good idea when you’re already anxious. “Agent Bailey is in the bullpen, I hope you don’t mind.” Now that you’re in a relationship with a well-trained and fully competent federal agent, your Secret Service detail tends to be a bit more relaxed about giving you space.

“Not at all.” Marcus insists, guiding you over to the little couch in his office. “Rodriguez will show her where the donuts are.” He snickers.

“So…” he sits down beside you and you pull a small container of Madeleines out of your oversized purse to offer to him, but the magazine is sitting just underneath and it makes your eyebrows pinch together all over again. “We walked past a news stand on the way here and…saw a new headline.”

“Oh no.” Marcus sighs, he takes the container but sets them aside to give you his full attention. “Bad?”

“Not great.” With a resigned sigh, you pull the magazine out of your bag and hand it over for Marcus to inspect. Under the headline is the now-famous shot of the two of you dancing together and the article inside includes a paparazzi shot of the two of you grocery shopping alongside one torn from your social media of a date night.

He winces at the headline and huffs, opens it, flipping to the article and skimming it. “I want to really get this ‘anonymous source’ into a fucking interrogation room.” He growls, growing more and more upset at the outright lies that are being insinuated. “But it’s fucking hard to be sleeping with you when security from Vanessa’s building has me showing up on a timestamped tape.”

“Agent Bailey was less than thrilled with the accusation that she would lie about anything out of loyalty. You might have to fight her for that interrogation.” Shaking your head as he puts down the magazine, you’re craving his warmth and security enough that you lean in on the couch beside him. “I had an idea, but I don’t know if you’ll like it,” you admit quietly.

“What is it?” He wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close, wanting to protect you from all this. He feels guilty, like you would be better off if your connection hadn’t been acted on.

“It’s….a little dramatic.” You can admit that, too. Although at this point you feel like a dramatic response isn’t uncalled for.

It might be necessary, in Marcus’s opinion. He nods and hums while waiting for you to continue.

“How would you feel about having another tattoo?” The question is posed carefully, quietly, but you had been considering it all the way over and bandied it back and forth with Agent Bailey during your walk. While extreme, it would certainly put all doubts to rest to share a video of you getting a new tattoo and having it appear just seconds after being finished, fully formed on Marcus’s skin.

“No gang or face tattoos.” Marcus jokes, shrugging slightly. “I’ve got no problem if you want to get a tattoo, sweetheart.” He decides. “But I don’t want you to do that simply to prove that we are soulmates. We don’t owe anyone anything.”

“I know it’s not owed.” That thought had never even crossed your mind, actually. “But I want this put to rest and something small that we decide on together would be a nice mark to share under almost any circumstance.” Shrugging a little, you take a sip of your tea and sit back. “It’s just a thought. Obviously I’m not going to just go off and do this on my own. That’s the opposite of the point of it.”

“No, I’m not opposed to it.” Marcus protests softly. “I just want to make sure it’s not from a place of insecurity.”

“Even if we weren’t soulmates, I would think it was sweet to have matching tattoos,” you tell him honestly, savoring the quiet comfort of the moment when your mind was chaotic just a half hour ago.

“What kind are you thinking of?” He asks softly, smiling as you lean against him. He enjoys the warmth of moment. The quiet comfort of you with him.

“I haven’t come up with anything brilliant.” Or even anything original. You had mostly been waiting to talk to him about it. “But something small, that’s reasonably discreet? Behind the ear or on the ankle or something like that? Even the wrist, so you could cover it with your watch when you want. I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

“What about a little flower?” Marcus offers. “Behind the ear. I can cover that with my hair if I need to, and it can be your favorite bloom.”

“That sounds completely adorable.” The smile you have for him is beaming, feeling the way your heart bursts at his absolute acceptance and support. The love that radiates off him even in something as simple as knowing how much you love flowers.

“I thought you would like that.” He admits, tapping just behind your ear. “And you are so sensitive when I kiss right here. Especially when I’m inside you.”

“That’s mostly because you’re inside me.” Even though your cheeks burn with it and you slide down a little against his side, you’re still beaming at him. “If we’re going for things that enhance sensitivity then maybe I’ll have to look into piercings,” you tease.

“Don’t tease.” He pouts, twitching under the proper suit. “I can’t think about those kinds of things and be expected to work.”

“Oh, would you like if I had secret piercings?” You raise one eyebrow in interest, surprised to hear such an enthusiastic response to the passing idea.

“Piercings are hot.” Marcus would never deny that. “If you wanted to get some, I would support you completely. Enthusiastically.” He teases with a grin.

You hum at him, intrigued enough by the thought to actually heavily consider it, just imagining his face seeing them and how eager he would be to play with them. “That would be a very personal gift for my soulmate.”

Yes it would be. Marcus hums, trying and failing to hide a small smirk. “Personal is good.” He agrees, “but don’t feel like that’s something I have to have. If you want it, that’s one thing.”

"It's something to think about." It's no secret to him that you like things that mark you as his – your soulmate marks, of course, but your promise ring and occasionally wearing a piece of his clothing as well. Piercings might be something only he would see, but that just makes it all the more meaningful.

“Hmmmmmm.” He chuckles and nods his head. “It is. But I don’t think you came all the way down here to just fill my head with dirty thoughts.”

"I came down to surprise you with coffee and tell you that I love you." When he cocks his head slightly, you end up grinning. "I might have a little date night planned for you tonight. The caffeine has ulterior motives."

"Oh really?" He perks up, smiling slightly as he looks over at you in utter surprise. "So I need to make sure I'm home on time tonight?"

"Actually?" His delight is gratifying, and you squeeze his arm gently at your waist. "I'm taking you right from here. Our night is in the city."

"Kidnapping me, hmmm?" He grins widens and he bites his lip. "What does Agent Bailey think of such activities?"

"Oh, she helped me plan it." And she seemed to have fun with it, too, which made the little diversion even better. "Even made our dinner reservation for us."

"Wow." Marcus makes an impressed face. "That was a plot twist I didn't expect." he laughs. "Am I allowed to know any details or just show up and look pretty?"

"Just be your handsome self when I come back at five to pick you up." You stretch up to kiss his cheek, glad that he seems to be looking forward to tonight and hadn't been looking forward to just going home. "I'm going to scoot home, finish some paperwork, and get all dolled up for you."

"Bring me back an outfit?" Marcus asks, turning pleading eyes on you. "It can be another suit, I just want to freshen up too. Look my best."

"I'll bring something devastating but understated." That isn't hard considering Marcus's wardrobe is extremely well curated, but you still like to pay him the compliment as you pull yourself back to standing. "I'll be back in a couple of hours, babe."

He can’t help but grin a little more, your compliment making his shoulders lift confidently. “I’ll see you soon.” He promises, pressing his lips to yours in the office where there’s privacy, although he will walk you to the elevator.

"I love you." That is for the privacy of his office too, but only because it comes with such a doe-eyed look from you that it's nearly obscene.

“I love you too, Hummingbird.” He promises, the same sappy look in his eyes as he turns to guide you out of the office. His hand rests on your lower back, over the tattoo.

Unfortunately, no date night photos or other positive presence on your social media is enough to combat the now growing accusation and rumors surrounding your soulmate status. It's only two weeks after first presenting the idea to Marcus that you're both sitting in a tattoo studio with the artist that did a beautiful flower tattoo for Sydney's sister AnnaLeigh.

Marcus had asked Juan to come and film the entire thing, so it couldn’t be said that it was spliced together. Although he was sure that comment was coming. Some people couldn’t be pleased no matter what, they didn’t want to believe there was an innocent reason for them being together.

The simple design would not take long to ink into your skin, and the artist helped Juan set up two chairs so that both you and Marcus could be in the shot to capture the instant the finished tattoo appears on Marcus’s skin. The entire video would be shared on your social media, audio included, so you had had to work up the nerve to even just chat with Marcus on camera. Sharing another mark with him isn’t stressful at all, it’s letting the public so deeply into your personal life that is.

“I like the design.” Marcus sits down on the other side of you and takes your hand. “You should have let me do the tattoo this time.” He jokes. “I don’t know what it feels like.”

“We can switch if you want to?” You’re nervous, and he knows it. Not for getting the tattoo, but from everything that has been going on.

“That’s up to you, sweetheart. Whatever you want to do.” Marcus wouldn’t take this experience from you if you want it.

“It’s small,” the artist assures you, seeing anxiety in her clients. “And behind the ear doesn’t hurt very much for most people. I had one woman nearly fall asleep on the table because she liked the humming and the soft vibrations.”

Marcus can handle a little bit of pain. You know that. A tattoo is nothing compared to broken limbs or the incident when he was undercover and was shot — which had sent you in a flurry of cooing and coddling for about three days when he first told you about it. Tattooing is the kind of pain that some people find pleasurable, so you squeeze his hand and nod. “Why don’t you give it a shot? You might decide you like it and we’ll end up here all over again.”

“Is that alright with you?” Marcus asks the tattoo artist, knowing they might not appreciate a change of clientele.

“Fine with me.” She nods as she sets up her tray. “I have both of your information on file and believe it or not this happens a lot. Soulmates come in with a design they’ve chosen but they’ll change their mind at the last minute about which one of them will actually being sitting for it.”

Marcus chuckles and turns you both so he can sit down in the chair. “We’ll both be wearing it anyway.” He agrees. “So I don’t mind experiencing it.”

“I’ve never been shot but I guarantee it hurts less.” You move to let him sit in the artist’s chair and situate yourself by his side.

Marcus chuckles as the tattoo artists eyes widen. “I’m a federal agent.” He explains quietly. “It was just a flesh wound, but she thinks it’s impressive.”

“It is impressive!” And you’re just going to keep telling him so over and over until he caves, but right now you just throw a pout at him to make him laugh.

Marcus gives you the laugh and turns his head to the side, staring at you. “Still not as impressive as you are beautiful.” He murmurs softly, although the video picks it up.

“I love you, too.” The bashfulness in it is only because you weren’t expecting that kind of compliment right now — as the artist about to permanently ink Marcus’s skin is making sure she has everything she needs on her tray. You lean into his side and tip back your head, nothing but pure love in your eyes right before they slip shut at the brief press of your lips to his.

Marcus hums, an automatic sound that comes out of him when you kiss him. Excited that you are as free with your kisses as he is, it’s liberating to indulge whenever the urge strikes you. When you pull back, he grins. “Now I’m ready.”

"Go ahead and lean forward." Sitting down on her stool, the artist beckons Juan over with the camera for the best angle to watch the action and still have you in the shot. "And here goes nothing."

The first touch of the needle nearly makes Marcus jump. He barely resists the urge and then laughs quietly, trying not to move too much. “This is kind of ticklish.” He admits.

"Then it already hurts less than the one I got," you tease, glad that the experience isn't painful for him. Watching him giggle about it and knowing it's being filmed is downright endearing.

“I’m sorry.” Marcus apologizes, even though he has nothing to be sorry for. “I wish your experience was better.” He snorts after he says it. “Maybe not, or I might be covered in ink.”

"It wasn't bad, but it was definitely more than a tickle." The grin you shoot him, though, is knowing. "If you end up liking this so much tonight, we might be covered in ink because of you instead."

“Only areas that can be respectfully covered.” He teases you, sending you a wink as the artist continues to carefully work behind his ear.

"Sounds like a plan," you toss him a smirk in return and the set of you grow quiet after another round of low laughter, so the only sound in the room becomes the resilient buzz of the artist's needle.

Marcus could probably fall asleep if the noise didn’t vibrate in his head. He smiles at you, squeezing your hand gently. “After this, we will have to go get that cream to keep it clean.”

"We can get a Tattoo Goo kit before we leave the shop." His hand is in yours and you squeeze it reassuringly. "It's going to be tender for a bit, but it won't take too long to heal."

“I’m sure you will be completely cuddly as I heal.” He snickers quietly.

"I think having a cuddly girlfriend is mandatory for the healing process," you tell him seriously. At this point you've completely forgotten Juan is here for any other reason besides moral support. Forgotten about the phone in his hands being a camera and the fact that this video will become public for the world to see. This is just a moment between you and your soulmate. And a sweet one, at that.

“You should have seen me when the scar from your appendix showed up.” He snorts. “I was upset that my soulmate was hurt.”

“We were kids.” Sure he’s older than you, but you were so young when you had appendicitis. “Did it really worry you that much?”

“Yeah.” Marcus admits, not ashamed of that in the least. “Not knowing what happened, I kept imagining horrible things. Waited for other scars to possibly show up for at least a week.”

“If you had scarred from your broken leg or when you hurt your shoulder, I probably would have felt the same way.” It’s less of an admission from you and more of a confirmation, telling him in no uncertain terms how much you have always cared about his well-being. “Which is still your gunshot wound is such a big deal.” One of your fingers digs into his arm playfully. “That scared the crap out of me.”

“Well, now if I get shot, you can baby me right away.” He teases. “And tell the plastic surgeon to make the scar invisible.”

"I don't mind wearing your scars." The thought comes out quieter than you mean for it to, holding Marcus's hand tightly in yours. "I'm proud of you. And proud to wear your marks, no matter how many of them there are."

“Hopefully not too many more.” He hopes, smiling at you. “But I’m proud to wear your marks too, Hummingbird.”

The session doesn’t last too much longer. Marcus has a high pain tolerance but the tattoo mainly just tickles him, making him grin and laugh as he chats with you and with the artist for the last few minutes. When she pronounces him done and stands back, there is a moment of silence before the permanence of the piece takes hold on him and transfers instantly to your skin.

A sharp intake of breath at the momentary pain is how you know it has happened, and you glance over at Marcus — and Juan with your phone — just absolutely beaming with happiness. “Does it look as good on me as it does on him?”

Marcus inspects the area, forgetting the camera is even on and recording. He leans in and presses a kiss to the tattoo. “It looks even better, Princess.” He promises with a smile.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

My Masterlist!

[tagthescullion]

I feel like Nico being from Venice and the Argo II crew briefly stopping in Venice should have had more of a focus.

Like, all we get is Nico mentioning his mother used to tell him stories about the ghosts of Venice (do we get any details? No), that one time he and Bianca went on a weekend trip, and how they went to the US when World War II started. That's it.

First of all, how does Nico even remember Venice (where he apparently grew up, despite Hades saying he met Maria in Washington DC) and his mother? He and Bianca were dipped in the Lethe! A year earlier in TLO he didn't even remember her name! Suddenly he has childhood memories of her?

Him not remembering Venice and his mother could have been worked into the plot. Like him not remembering anything yet knowing he grew up here. Nico volunteering to go into the city with Frank and Hazel because he wants to see if anything jogs his memory. Wandering the streets looking at any old buildings wishing and hoping that anything seems familiar. Talking with Hazel about how he knows he's from here seventy years ago but doesn't remember a thing.

But since he does somehow remember, more attention should have been paid to that. Nico wandering the streets automatically heading toward his childhood home. Finding his way into the old di Angelo plot in a graveyard. Pointing out familiar landmarks, or, conversely, being confused because familiar landmarks no longer exist. Talking in Italian with passersby (don't even get me started on Nico knowing Italian in the later series, which seems to have been retconned from PJO. I think I might send in another ask sometime about that). Actually knowing what the katobleps are because, you know, he grew up here and would have seen them instead of just barely remembering what they are from Mythomagic. Talking with Hazel about his memories of Venice so long ago and how he feels about returning only a few years later for him but seventy years for everyone else. More talking with Hazel in general.

Instead, we get only a couple mentions. If there's anyone who deserves to have more of a focus on returning to his childhood homeland it's Nico, but he doesn't get it.

I'll start this by saying: rick's timeline is a wobbly bit of weak twine that's threading and creating other unexplainable plotholes

(adding a division bc it got long and not everybody has 'long post' filtered)

maria and hades meet in DC (implying nico and bianca are yanks)

maria and hades meet in venezia (implying nico and bianca are italian)

nico and bianca are born long before the war, that's why by the time they're 10 and 12 they left italy bc the war hadn't yet begun

nico and bianca were born in 30-32 so by 1938 nico was 6 when he went to croatia on holiday, implying they'd been 10-12 in 1942 the war had already started! italy was about to get divided north vs south

nico and bianca were born in 30-32 so by 1938 nico was 6 when he went to croatia, and they still went to the US before the war (<1940), so how in fuck's name does nico know of his venetian neighbour who came back PTSD-ed from the african campaign (1940-1943)????

nico and bianca have no memories bc they were bathed in the lethe, ergo no memories, ergo nico betrays percy to hades to learn about his mother

nico's memories, which shone for their absence for three years, start popping up like ants after rain in HoO?? just like that?? except the freaky cow-things, those ofc he can't remember despite them being a fucking pain in the arse and him having been annoyed/in danger for.. 10 years???

in the end, it's less about rick's subpar ability to keep up with his own characters, and his greedy need to keep writing books without a capable editor knowing he can't remember shite of any of his old stuff.. it's more about just picking whatever makes you happy

I like foreign nico and bianca, bc my country's culture's got a lot from italians, so I'll take HoO's (sort of) version. that and it fits better with my long and niche hcs of maria

nico and bianca being born in 30-32 (or 31 and 33 bc it fit better for my hcs) feels more legit to give nico that whole pre-war/beginning of the war background, but that's only bc wwii is interesting to me

I hc from PJO times that the underworld rivers don't affect children of hades too much, so nico and bianca did have some chunks of memory here and there, like islands of light in a dark ocean.. the speed with which nico gets back every single childhood thing? I don't vibe..

and as for nico being in his hometown.. god above it pains me to hell and back but rick is a white middle-upper class privileged yank boomer, I can't trust him to write his own compatriots, I simply cannot consider his foreigners as canon until people from those countries have given their thumbs-up

as a last comment in this eternal post: I truly, from the bottom of my judgy, bitchy heart, don't think rick even realised (originally) that italy wasn't on the US's side of WWII..

[teecupangel]

Normally, Desmond is sent back in time to mess with things.

But what if it wasn't him?

Like, maybe Desmond couldn't go back in time himself but he could, in the split second he touched the apple, send someone else.

What if one of his ancestors went back in time? (Upon their deaths or something.)

I imagine a young Altair (who might be using a fake name) running around Italy with a tired Ezio following like a worried mother hen. (No, Claudia, he is not hovering he is just concerned) He ends up taking Altair under his wing (No, Claudia, it is not adoption.)

Or maybe Altair ends up in Bayek's time, Oh! Or Connor in Ezio's time. (Edward and Ezio would either get along badly or be too powerful if they were together in the same time period.)

These boys ruin the timeline and somehow save the world/future by simply stumbling through everything with no clue what's going on. and of course the power of friendship and really sharp blades.

Desmond and Clay are laughing their asses off in the afterlife as their ancestors destroy centuries worth of carefully calculated plans. (They might also manipulate things a little to help.)

And the time traveling ancestors for the most part, are doing the best they can in their current situation.

They are freaking the fuck out the whole time but are excellent at hiding it.

Poor Ezio.

(No, Altair, you can't kill that person because that have information we need, yes, I'm sure, Claudia don't encourage him.)

Well… How about we add some… ‘order’ to the chaos?

Desmond only had a fraction of a second to send his ancestor back in time.

And he hesitated.

He didn’t know which one to send.

Should it be Altaïr? Altaïr always felt like he would find out what to do even if he was given only minimal clues.

But Ezio was his prophet, the one he had been with the longest…

Ratonhnhaké:ton though… he deserves answers. He deserves the truth.

And when he woke up…

In that endless sea of gray…

The first word he heard were…

“’Morning. Which fucked up timeline do you want to hear first?”

Desmond sat and blinked as Clay stood before him, arms crossed with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Uuuhh…”

“Do you want to hear about how Edward Kenway managed to save his grandson and his grandson’s mother from the fires that should have killed her?” Clay asked before adding, “Oh… and he’s learned that his son’s a Templar by the way. At least, one of his old friends believe he’s actually Edward Kenway. If you think the Kenway Family Drama is bad when you were reliving Connor’s memories, then you gotta see the top tier drama that’s happening with Edward and Haytham right now.”

“Or maybe you want to hear about how Connor got kicked into Ezio’s time? He has no idea what’s happening but he got appointed as Federico’s combat instructor. He knows jackshit, by the way, about the tragedy that’s about to happen but, hey, at least Giovanni believes he’s an Assassin from another country or something. Oh.” Clay rubbed his chin as he added, “Connor doesn’t like how close Giovanni is with the Medici by the way. Lorenzo reminds him a bit of Washington or maybe he’s projecting, who knows?”

“Maybe you’ll like to know how your dear prophet is doing? Well, he’s doing badly in preserving the damn timeline that’s for sure. Let’s see… he got in touch with Alamut and managed to bluff his way into making them believe he’s the mentor of a destroyed Assassin branch from the crusader lands, he got the mentor’s permission to make his own branch in Levant, made a deal with said mentor to become a thorn in Al Mualim’s side and find out what he’s hiding, adopted Altaïr and even went as far as adopt Abbas because he believed he could ‘change’ things.” Clay was quiet for a moment before he added, “Oh and his branch is in the underground temple in Jerusalem so he has the Apple with him already.”

“Then there’s Altaïr.” Clay said with such… annoyance Desmond was actually afraid of what Altaïr had done. Clay rubbed the side of his forehead as he started, “See, they can only be transported into what counts as their past so we can’t have something like Altaïr being pushed into his future in Ezio’s time or something. And, since your only instruction to the Moraes was to ‘change the past’, they had to improvise with Altaïr considering he’s more or less the starting point. They had to pick another one of your ancestors who was important to your past and this world’s future so…”

“Altaïr’s been sent to the time of the Isu-Human war and his knowledge of the POEs and getting unconstrained access to the POEs at their full power… well… let’s just say…” Clay’s tone was drier than the desert as he said, “The Isus didn’t know what hit them.”

Desmond could only stare at Clay as he said.

“Soooo… which one do you want to contact first as their ‘patron’?”

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading roundup: june 2024

before I get started on June, I have to issue a correction from May: I forgot to include a book!

last year I backed Iron Circus Comics' erotic anthology My Monster Girlfriend, edited by Andrea Purcell and Amanda Lafrenais, and it finally arrived just ahead of pride. My Monster Girlfriend contains 15 stories by all by different artists, and features protagonists who get it on with everything from the classic ghosts, werewolves, and vampires to a reality-warping angel (?) who contains infinite dimensions, a sleep paralysis demon, and an all-consuming flesh monster hivemind.

while I would have liked to see a little more variety in the freakishness of the actual sex, the anthology is a lot of fun and shows off a great diversity of art styles and scenarios in which one might get down to clown with a monster girlfriend. my personal favorites were Feather by Kanesha C. Bryant, in which an intrepid pervert boldly attempts to locate their girlfriend's genitalia; MonsterHER Under the Bed by Bont and Wes Brooke, which puts a cute, sexy little spin on the monster under the bed; Forest Wedding by Otava Heikkilä, which reads like an old timey fable except it ends in a giant forest woman getting crazy fisted by her new trans husband; and Girl Fiend by InnKeeperWorm, which is infinitely jackoffable even though, frankly, the hellhound should have stayed in her more monstrous canine form to fuck.

okay, now onto the June reading! I found myself reaching the end of the month surprised that I had added so few books to my 2024 spreadsheet, and then I realized: it's fucking PRIDE MONTH and I'm a career queer. I spent most of June either busting ass working various events or in a coma recovering from said events; no wonder I didn't read as much as I thought I would. I also gave up on one novel after sinking close to 200 pages in it, which means the list is even shorter, but trust me: the DNF was the right decision.

so, who made the cut for pride?

The Monsters We Defy (Leslye Penelope, 2022) - this book was a romp! it's fun! it's a hoot, dare I say! this is a historical urban fantasy that takes place in the Black society of 1920s Washington, DC. protagonist Clara and her band of ragtag magical misfits have a heist to pull off against one of the most powerful Black women in DC, with their own curses and powers at stake. it's a fun story with a neat magic system and lots of words that are capitalized so you know they're Magical and Important, and it's a read that goes down real easy. strong recommendation if you find yourself in a slump!

Just for the Cameras (Viano Oniomoh, 2023) - my first foray into independently published romance! and it was... fine. the plot's a little patchy, sure, but it's definitely not the worst romance I've ever read, and at least a throuple made for a nice change of pace. AND nobody's seething with jealousy or insecurity about multiple partners? you love to see it. this book was apparently originally intended to be a novelette and it definitely could have stayed that way, but if bisexual Black hotties sucking and fucking is what you seek then you're going to have a great time. TW: 2/3 main characters are British.

Strange Bedfellows: Adventures in the Science, History, and Surprising Secrets of STDs (Ina Park, 2021) - to the surprise of absolutely no one who knows me, this is one of my very favorite nonfiction reads of the year so far. I cannot emphasize this enough: if you like the way that I talk about STIs and sex ed on this blog then I think you'll really like this book, because having read this book I desperately want to be her friend. she brings so much passion and energy to her work that it bursts right off the page and is - pardon this awful pun - absolutely infectious.

Survivor (Octavia E. Butler, 1978) - for those you not in the know, this book is kind of a get. it's the only book of Butler's that was never reprinted, so now you can only read it if you get ahold of a super expensive original edition OR if you, hypothetically, find a PDF online and print off the entire thing on your work printer. and I'm so glad I did the latter, because holy shit this book whips ass. the book was apparently disavowed for its lack of connection to the rest of the Patternist series, which is true but oh my god, the story is SOOOO cool anyway. we've got a human woman named Alanna who grew up feral on Earth only to be adopted by a Christian cult who are GOING INTO SPACE to preserve the human race, but it turns out there are already intelligent people on the new planet and they have Feelings about what the future of these human missionaries is going to be. it's on Alanna to navigate the clashing cultures and tension between the humans and two warring groups of aliens, and it is fucking URGENT. I don't say this lightly but I think this has ascended to be in my top three Butler novels.

No Name in the Street (James Baldwin, 1972) - ooooooh my god you guys!! oh my god!!! I've never read any of Baldwin's long form nonfiction, but within pages I knew that this was going to pretty permanently change my brain. this memoir-ish book delves into, among other things, Baldwin's witnessing of the American civil rights movement, including the deaths of Malcolm X, Martin Luther King, Jr., and Medgar Evers. woven around that is the alienating experience of being a Black man with exactly enough cultural cache and social clout to sometimes isolate him from the people he grew up with but not nearly enough to buy acceptance or safety in a white society, emphasized by Baldwin's unfinished struggle to free a friend from prison after a wrongful murder charge. and somehow that's barely doing the book justice! it's so vast and incisive and weary and impassioned and it did, truly, have me jotting down the names of everything Baldwin ever wrote to make sure I can read it all. as much as I bemoan my habit of impulse reserving books from the library, I really am indebted to the Stacks podcast for getting this on my radar.

[bluestar22x]

The Shot Not Taken

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader (Nickname "Sunny")

Summary: It was one last night in a cabin after a case; it wasn't supposed to end this way

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 3,400(ish)

Warnings: Sexual tension, yearning, violence, fairly graphic mentions of blood, angst, tragedy - Might be AUish since I don't know what time of year Marcus actually moved to D.C.

Author's Note: I wrote this for @almostfoxglove 's Angst Challenge, and I almost made myself cry, so prepare yourselves. (Moodboard was made by them)

xxx

"You wanna quit while you're ahead, Pike?" you questioned, a smirk on your face. "Before I take what's left of your cash?"

"You're bluffing," he said warily, his dark eyes peering over his hand of cards to where you sat across the table. "There's no way you're that lucky. You've already won five rounds tonight."

"Don't get mad at me when you can't afford breakfast tomorrow."

He flashed you a wicked smile as he placed his hand on the table. "Somehow I doubt that'll be the case." He nodded at his cards. "Four of a kind."

You glanced down to see that he indeed had four aces. You chuckled, surprising him. "Weak."

You dropped your cards on the table revealing that you had the ultimate hand. "Royal flush."

He groaned. "What the hell, Sunny?"

"If it makes you feel better, I'll share my breakfast with you tomorrow," you promised. "Now hand over the money."

A thin smile broke through his look of disbelief. "You should've been nicknamed Lucky instead of Sunny. I'm never playing poker with you again."

"Aw, but you just paid my rent for the month," you teased.

"Exactly."

He reached for his bottle of beer and took a sip before throwing the cash he owed you onto the center of the kitchen table. "I'm bailing before I can't afford my rent."

You pretended to pout but couldn't keep up the act for long. You were nicknamed Sunny for a reason. You hardly ever were in a bad mood. There wasn't much that could keep your spirits down. Which was a good thing, considering your job as an FBI agent for the art crimes department in Washington D.C. involved some very long hours and carried plenty of risk when out in the field.

"Chicken," you declared as you pushed your chair away from the table. "Fine. I wanted to go for a walk before it got too dark outside anyway."

Pike nodded at you as you sprung to your feet. "I'll pick up the cabin while you're out."

"How chivalrous of you, Agent Pike," you sang out. "I'll be back by sunset the latest. Send the hounds if I'm not."

It was a joke, but unsurprisingly the lines over your partner's brows etched in a little deeper. Worried at just the idea of you not coming back. It was sweet, considering you'd only been partners for four months. He'd just moved to the capital on a promotion.

Maybe that meant you were friends.

When he'd first been paired up with you Marcus Pike had been reserved around you, almost like he was afraid to become friends with you.

You'd been secretly hurt by it because he was fine with almost everyone else. His cheerfulness almost rivaling your own at times. He was one of the most good-natured agents you'd ever met, but he was quiet around you. Not necessarily cold, but strictly professional.

You'd wondered if someone had hurt him and if you reminded him of them somehow. He seldom mentioned his final months in Texas to anyone.

You'd thought you were reaching before Marcus came around, because he seemed as married to his work as you were, but your superior had revealed to you at a work party that Marcus had requested for his ex fiancée to have a job at the capital too but she'd never shown up. Marcus had simply told him they'd broken up.

"I doubt you'll need to," you assured him. "Last I checked the case is closed so no stolen art dealers should be stalking these woods. We cuffed our guy last night. Only possible danger out there now is bigfoot."

Marcus huffed. "I have a feeling you're more likely to run into a black bear. Not as many bigfoot sightings in upper New York as there are in the northwest."

You grinned. "Good thing I'm good at intimating anything bigger than me." You patted the holster on your hip. "And my gun's right here for backup."

You fled the cabin you'd been stuck in for most of the past month while you were working on your latest case and headed out on the dirt trail alongside the lake that bordered the back of the property.

There were trees on either side of the path, but you were close enough to the lake's border to be able to see the water the whole time you strolled along it.

It didn't take you long to settle into the peace that nature often brought you. You loved the city life, all the things you could do instead of being bored, but every once in a while it was nice to get away.

You couldn't really count one evening before your flight back to D.C. as a "get away" but you'd take what you could get before your next assignment.

It was autumn, after all, your favorite season. The air was crisp but not quite yet cold enough for you to bother with a jacket, and most of the trees were at the height of flaunting their bright, colorful leaves. In less than a month most of them would fall away, their remains scattered by the wind, leaving the branches bare, exposed, until the trees resurrected in the spring.

Though it wasn't quite yet jacket weather, there was enough of a breeze to compel you to slip on the sweater that you'd tied around your waist on the way out along with the fingerless gloves that had been stuffed into its only pocket.

It's perfectly pleasant out with the extra layer on, and you enjoy every second of the rest of your time in the woods. The loss of light from the setting sun was the only real reason you eventually wanted to turn back. After a raven startled you with its call you decided it was time to return to the cabin before your paranoia got the better of you.

You'd never liked being in the woods at night.

You didn't immediately go back inside the cabin though. Instead you chose to plop yourself down on a massive rock by the edge of the lake and watch the sun as it set.

It was so calming to observe that you zoned out and didn't hear Marcus approaching until he was already sliding onto the rock with you.

He offered you a green mug that clearly contained coffee, its smell filling your nostrils almost as soon as you'd spotted it in his massive hands.

"Decafe, milk only?" you asked. You hated drinking caffeine after six o'clock. You always tossed and turned in bed after.

"Of course."

You accepted the mug from him and tested it. It wasn't bad for cheap home brewed coffee from the local gas station and Marcus had got the ratio of milk right.

He was good with details even outside work.

"It's quiet out here," he noted, pleased.

"A little too quiet at this time of day," you told him. "The day animals are going to sleep and the night ones are just starting to get up. We're in the between."

"Spending time out here has got me thinking," he confessed. "I think I'm going to search for a cabin in Virginia when I get back. It would give me a place to unwind, a place where I don't hear an engine roaring and tires screeching every minute of the day. Would be good for the kids too when I have some someday."

You glanced at him, stunned by his casual mention of wanting to start a family someday. He'd never mentioned it before, but there he was beside you, a wistful look in his eyes, probably imagining his hypothetical future children playing in a lake similar to the one in front of you, splashing each other relentlessly or something as he watched them from the shoreline.

You couldn't help but shake your head at that. It wasn't meant for his eyes, but he noticed anyway.

"What?"

"Nothing," you mumbled, adverting your gaze from his handsome face.

"Tell me."

You shook your head. "It's nothing you'll want to hear. I don't want to ruin your night. Besides, it's none of my business."

"Tell me anyway," he insisted.

You sighed, not wanting to give in but knowing you were going to anyway. "It's just...we're both on the border of forty and we're on the wrong end of a gun at least once a month. The picket fence with the spouse and the two-point-five kids? That's not for us. We're not normal. This isn't normal. This isn't the way normal people live, Marcus."

"Plenty of other agents have families," he pointed out.

"And their families wait with baited breath every day until they come home," you reminded him. "And sometimes there's no relief. Sometimes their spouse, their parent, never comes back home."

It was Marcus' turn to sigh. "This is about your dad."

Your father had been an FBI agent too, in the National Security branch. You'd been only eleven years old when he was shot to death with twelve rounds by the suspect he'd been chasing down in the middle of the city.

"It's not fair to do that to anyone Marcus," you told him. "That's why I'm still single. Why I refuse to get married. It was that or get a desk job, and that's not me. But maybe, if you really want a family, a desk job is what you need. If you have a family, you should commit to them fully."

You were sure he'd be upset with you for everything you'd just said, but instead of getting defensive he scratched the top of his left arm and nodded.

"I've actually been thinking about that lately. The promotion's already given me more of a taste of what it would be like being in the office more often than not, and it doesn't disagree with me. Honestly, I think I'm over my risk taking days."

"What's stopping you then?" you questioned.

"Lately, you," he answered without really thinking.

You startled and stared at him. You noticed he was looking at you in a completely new way, or maybe you were waking up to something in his expression that had always been there. "What?"

"I didn't want to make our partnership a problem, but I also don't want to transfer without you knowing," he continued.

"Knowing what?" You were in complete disbelief. You already knew what he was going to say.

"I care about you, Sunny." He said your nickname so softly. "I want you. Have since we met. Tell me you feel the same."

They were bold words but you found yourself drawn towards him anyway, your lips crashing into his.

You had been yearning for him too. He was your friend, the best partner you'd had in a long time, and he was pretty to boot. You may have already had several dreams about kissing him like this...and more.

Despite all that, you pushed him away when he tried to deepen the kiss, as he cupped your jaw. "The picket fence isn't my ending, Marcus. I don't ever want a desk job. I don't want kids. You deserve someone who shares your dreams. I'm one night stand material, nothing more."

"That's alright," he said so surely the words made your stomach flutter.

You knew him better than that though. "No, it's not," you refuted. "You're not one night stand material, Pike, or else you'd be a lot more relaxed than you are lately. Have you ever slept with a woman you didn't love before? No matter how briefly you'd known each other?"

He stayed silent, answering your question.

You hopped off the rock for his sake, not wanting to be another of his relationships that ended in disappointment, and headed for the cabin to get in some extra hours of sleep.

There was nothing left to say. You couldn't be who Marcus needed you to be and you'd both get hurt if you gave into your lustful desires.

You dreamed of him in vivid detail that night.

x

The next morning Marcus stirred to the sound of slamming doors through the kitchen window, which he guessed you must've cracked open while going through your morning routine as you usually did during warmer weather.

You were the one making the ruckus, already packing your belongings into the black government issued SUV you'd been assigned while on the case.

After a bathroom break Marcus smoothed down his sleep mussed hair and headed for the kitchen where you'd left out a cup of caffeinated coffee you'd brewed for him after pouring yourself one. His lips quirked upward as he thought about your kindness and he snatched the cup up so he could take a sip. The coffee was on the cooler side of hot, but that was exactly how he preferred it.

You had gotten to know each other quite well during the few months you'd known each other, much more than just your coffee preferences. But he'd caught feelings for you early on, before that, despite not wanting to. Realizing he liked you had been a painful revelation. The last thing he'd wanted was another workplace romance, not even a month after his last had ended poorly.

He had tried to keep you at an arm's length at first, but that hadn't worked out. You'd seemed hurt by it, and that had eventually broken his resolve.

He'd tried to be satisfied with your friendship, but as soon as he could call you a friend, he'd started dreaming at night about you being more than that.

He'd thought maybe, just maybe sleeping with you would've been enough, but you were also right. He wasn't one night stand material. He'd never had casual sex in his life. There were always feelings attached to it.

And you wanted different lives. Like his last girlfriend, you were simply just not meant to be his.

That hadn't stopped him from restlessly tossing and turning in his bed the night before. Thinking about that kiss. How needy your response to his confession had been. How soft your lips had felt against his.

The memory began to make him aroused and he had to shift in his spot by the kitchen sink to get more comfortable.

Think of anything else, Pike.

He focused on the view through the window, a fog carpeting the rocky shores of the lake that cool, sunny morning. He was a city guy at heart, but he'd meant what he'd said the night before. It would be nice to get a cabin and spend some time in nature once in a while. It would be therapeutic.

He'd lost himself in the sight before him when two overlapping gunshots broke the peaceful morning.

Marcus jumped into action, scrambling for his work appointed glock and charging outside to the driveway with little thought for his own safety.

He froze when he turned the corner to the back of the cabin and his eyes found you slumped against the back end of the SUV, the trunk still raised, open.

You were wide-eyed, gasping for air, shaking, and you were holding your left hand over a dark patch of blood that was expanding alarmingly fast over your white tank top on the mid-left side of your chest. Your right hand still had a white-knuckled grip on your gun.

Marcus' heart nearly stopped at the sight. He barely noticed the body of the man laying only a few feet in front of you as he raced to your side to help you.

"Shit, Sunny," he hissed as he added pressure to your bullet wound with one of his own hands.

You coughed, and when you responded you sounded weak and pained. "It's bad." You looked scared.

Marcus brushed your cheek with the back of his hand comfortingly. "Shhh...save your strength."

He slipped his hand into the front right pocket of your jeans where he knew you always kept your cell phone and dialed 911. He later wouldn't be able to recall exactly what he'd told the emergency operator, only that he'd given them enough details to get the paramedics there fast.

"Hang on, Sunny," he murmured when he got off the phone. "They're on their way."

He was in complete denial of what was happening in front of him. If he hadn't been he'd have written you off as already dead. Because you basically were. You'd lost far too much blood. The bullet had most likely nicked a part of your heart. You were fading fast. Your eyes already falling.

"Marcus," you somehow managed to croak out. "Promise me you won't give up. You keep...looking for someone...to share that cabin with."

He shook his head at you, feeling desperate. "No."

"Please," you begged.

"Fine," he said, "But you're gonna have to be my wing woman. Keep me from moving too quick."

You almost managed a chuckle before the last of your strength slipped from you and you stopped breathing altogether. It was that abrupt.

Panic soared in Marcus. He carefully laid you out on your back in the dirt and pressed two fingers to your neck, searching for a pulse. Finding none he could palpate, he knelt over you and started to do chest compressions.

"Damn it, Sunny! Come on! Stay with me!"

Any civilian watching would've been horrified by the sight of your blood squirting out of your wound onto his hands and gray sleep shirt as he worked. It was a futile effort, keeping your heart going when there wasn't enough blood to pump anymore, but it wasn't until he heard the ambulance sirens that Marcus became aware of that.

The tears welled up then, his chest tightening as he went blind.

"Sunny, oh god," he sobbed out, taking in the gruesome sight before him. It seemed like the blood was everywhere.

He pulled your upper body off the ground and cradled it in his arms, pressing his forehead against your own, his lips grazing your closed right eye.

"Damn it, Sunny," he whimpered out before the full bulk of his grief hit him.

He nuzzled his face against your cooling one and finally wept.

x

Marcus wasn't sure how he'd managed to pull himself together enough to be the one to inform your sister of your passing, but he had.

He'd insisted on it. It was only right he be the one to tell her since he'd been your partner and had been there for your dying breath.

He'd promised your sister that it had been quick and that you hadn't died alone. And even though that made her cry harder, she'd promised him that it made a difference and thanked him for doing everything he could for you in the moment.

He hoped she had family to lean on the day of your funeral. He wasn't there when they put you in the hole. He'd been busy on another case, having buried himself in work to distract himself from his own pain, despite his superior begging him to take some time off to properly mourn you.

Witnessing the funeral would've made it too final. He hadn't been ready yet.

It wasn't until he finally met the one, someone who made him smile again, for real, who shared his dreams for the future, that his heart truly began to mend from your loss.

It wasn't until he had the wedding band, the cabin, and the kids that he completely stopped having the nightmares.

There were still nights though, usually around the anniversary of your death, when he'd lie awake wondering what would have happened if he had stopped you from leaving the rock by yourself that night.

Would you have woken up late, tangled in the sheets with him instead of being outside to face the secret partner of the illegal art dealer alone? Would he have harmlessly stolen back the painting hidden under the rear seat of the SUV instead of stealing your life?

Even though he was sure now that you were never meant to be his, he still couldn't help but wonder if he'd made a mistake letting you go back to the cabin without him. If you should've been his exception.

You would always be his biggest regret.

The shot not taken.

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed

xxx

Main Masterlist

xxx

[bangtanmix73]

“You Found Me” Paul Lahote x reader

Request: @simply-kylie​  I’ve just lately I’ve really been into the song “You Found Me” by the Fray and I just I feel like it could possibly be like a good song imagine request for a Paul Lahote one

A/n: This took me way longer than necessary, I apologize.

Warnings: Angst (?) with a happy ending, song fic (sort of), Paul and his anger issues, overthinking, anxiety if you squint, a little humor, my writing

--

I found God on the corner of First and Amistad Where the west was all but won All alone, smoking his last cigarette I said, "Where you been?" He said, "Ask anything"

“Paul, I know you’re upset, but I have no choice in this.” You attempted to console Paul. You knew this hurt him as it hurt you too.

“You could tell them you don’t want to go, that you want to stay here, with us, with me.” Paul tried to convince you to stay in Washington. Your family was moving to Florida, you didn’t know if it was permanent or temporary, but saying goodbye still hurt.

“I'm only 14, they’re not going to listen to me.” You knew trying to persuade your parents futile, the hard part was getting Paul to see that.

“Y/N, let's go.” You winced when you heard your mother call you from the moving truck.

“You’re not willing to try? For any of your friends?” Paul looked betrayed, his overthinking and anger issues getting the better of him.

“That’s not-” As soon as you started, you were interrupted by the boy standing in front of you.

“All I’m getting from this is you’re not willing to try for your friends.” He continued to jump to conclusions.

“Paul, I can’t. We are already packed up and everything is in the truck. It’s not like they would listen anyway.” You felt tears swell up in your eyes. “I have to go.” Your voice cracked. He looked as hurt as you felt.

“Don’t call. Goodbye, Y/n.” Paul stomped off in the direction he came from. While you wanted to follow and make things right, your parents you calling to get in the car from behind you.

That was 3 years ago. You are now 17. Despite the want to fix everything with Paul, you respected his wishes and never called. You think back to that day a lot, thinking of all the ways that you could’ve said to make it go better.

Where were you when everything was fallin' apart? All my days were spent by the telephone That never rang and all I needed was a call That never came to the corner of First and Amistad

You were on your way back to La Push, Washington. Your parents didn’t like Florida and decided to move back. It wasn’t as hard on you, emotionally, going back to Washington. You didn’t make very many friends in Florida; the ones you did make, you weren’t close with.

Pulling back into your old driveway, you sighed, dreading all the unpacking you had to do. Your father’s car pulled in beside you while your mother parked the moving truck behind your father.

Sighing again, you got out of your car. Might as well get this started, you thought.

--

Later that day, you finished unpacking your room. You had opted to decorate it during the week whenever you felt like it. You had gone on a walk afterwards, to clear your head.

Despite the need to clear your thoughts, they clouded your mind, only worse now that you were alone. You wanted to see Paul. You had missed him so much. You still considered him your childhood best friend after all.

Then came the overthinking. If you visited him, would he be happy to see you again? Would he be angry at you? Would he laugh or slam the door in your face?

Lost and insecure You found me, you found me Lyin' on the floor Surrounded, surrounded

Lost in these probing thoughts, you found yourself at the Lahote house.  Lost in your thoughts, your feet led you to his house. How cliché.

Weighing your options, you decided to take the leap and do it. Like they always say, ‘the worst that could happen is they say no’. Although, in the back of your mind, you knew much worse could happen.

You treaded up the stairs of the porch, to their door. Mentally hyping yourself up. You raised your hand up, hesitating a bit. Here goes nothing.  

And you knocked.

Once. Twice. Then, a final time.

You let your hand fall down to your side.

Now came the antagonizing anticipation. With any luck, no one would answer, and you could go home and forget you ever thought about doing this.

But luck wasn’t on your side. Your heartbeat sped up as the door swung open and revealed Paul.

He had changed a lot in the past 3 years. He got taller, at least 6’0, and he got buff like buff. Is he on steroids?

Why'd you have to wait? Where were you? Where were you? Just a little late You found me, you found me

Paul stood frozen as he looked at you. Guess he was just as shocked to see you as you were him.

You just stared back awkwardly until you realized you were going to have to say something first.

“Hi, Paul,” You whispered, albeit loud enough for him to hear. This seemed to snap him out of his trance.

“You came back?” He whispered back in astonishment. “I... I didn’t think you were going to come back.”

In the end, everyone ends up alone Losin' her, the only one who's ever known Who I am, who I'm not, and who I wanna be No way to know how long she will be next to me

“Yeah, to be honest, I didn’t think so either.” You started, “We just got back today, and I thought ‘why not give an old friend a visit?’.” You looked down, taking a deep breath before looking back up at him. “I missed you.”

“Not enough to call or at least send letters.” Paul shot back, bitterly.

“You said not to.” You responded quietly.

“You knew not to take anything I say while angry literally, or I thought you did.” He said, mumbling the last part.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve at least tried.” You replied, acknowledging your mistake. If you were being honest, you never saw it this way and you now knew you should’ve tried.

Lost and insecure You found me, you found me Lyin' on the floor Surrounded, surrounded

Paul stepped forward, embracing you in a little too warm, but welcome nonetheless, hug. The amount of warmth radiating off of him was concerning, but you opted to mind your business. You hugged him back, wrapping your arms around his waist the best you could.

“I missed you too.” He mumbled into your shoulder.

You stayed like that for a good minute, basking in each other's presence, afraid you’d lose the other again if you let go.

Paul was the first to pull away. Not far though, you still had your arms wrapped around each other.

“Do you want to come in? Dad won’t be home until tomorrow.” He offered.

“At least take me on a date first, Lahote.” You joked. Paul laughed, shaking his head.

“Good to know you haven’t changed much.” He let go of you. You let your arms fall down to your sides.

You grinned, “Yes, I’ll come in.”

Paul nodded, stepping aside to allow you in. You walked in, looking around. Everything still looked the same as 3 years ago.

Why'd you have to wait? Where were you? Where were you? Just a little late You found me, you found me

Paul walked towards the living room with you trailing behind him. You sat on one end of the couch, him on the other side, facing each other.

“I tried to call, you know.” You looked up at him.

“I never got it.” You responded.

“You probably did. It was just a new phone number.” You giggled.

“Paul, you know I don’t answer unknown numbers. You should’ve left a voicemail or something.” You quipped.

“Yeah, should’ve known better.” He snickered.

Early mornin', the city breaks I've been callin' for years and years and years and years And you never left me no messages, you never sent me no letters You got some kind of nerve, takin' all I want

You spent hours catching up. You told him about Florida and how crazy it was. Paul informed you that your friend group had gone separate ways shortly after you left. He wasn’t completely left alone. About a year ago, he made friends with Sam Uley and Jared Cameron. Since then, more had joined their group.

When you had decided to go home, Paul offered to drive you. He didn’t want you walking alone. Apparently while you were gone, Forks’ crime rate went up.

“If you aren’t doing anything tomorrow, do you want to come meet my friends?” He asked, parking in your driveway.

“Sure, I’d love to. As long they remember I’m the original.” You teased causing him to laugh.

“I’m sure you’ll remind them.” Paul poked back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, P.” You climbed out of his truck. You closed the door and headed into the house.

You found me, you found me Why'd you have to wait To find me? To find me

[misguidedasgardian]

Wildcats (Part XXII)

XXII. The 97th hour

MASTERLIST

Summary: You were running on thin ice, regarding your arrival time in Alexandria. 

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Zombie apocalypse AU, living dead, zombies, guts, blood, guns, injures, kissing, longing, angst, fluff, heavy kissing, touch starved reader & Daryl, might miss some important warnings, but you know what this is about

+18, MINORS DNI

Notes: Alright, you are gonna be confused, so… questions at the end of the chapter please jiji

“His finger better not slip”, Alex mumbled close to your ear, as he was patching you up, a few feet away was Daryl, pointing his crossbow at him

“It never does”, you assured him with a soft smile

“How long have you two been together?”, he asked, you winced when the needle punctured your skin, but you put on a brave face

“Not long, a week or so”, you mumble

“Dang”, he mumbled, “how did that happen?”

“He is great, once you get to know him”, you said with a smile, a smile that weirdly pops up only when you think about the archer.

“Uuuffff”, he whistled, “he got you good, didn’t he?”, he teased

“Yeah”, you said happily

“All done”, he said, “I knew it was going to go straight out”, he said like he was proud of himself

“Ah great”, you said mockingly, he took time in placing bandages in your wound, his hands seemed to linger in your skin, you look at him weirdly, you saw him with a sneaky smile on his lips, at the same time Daryl adjusted his posture, tightening his arm, “you are doing it on purpose”, you whispered to him, “stop it”, he laughed

“It's just so funny, riling him up”, he said, he finished placing the bandage, he slapped your arm playfully and sent you on your way. 

“Now, new guy, before you get to Alexandria, let me walk you through the chain of command”, said Abraham, they spoke kind of the same language, being military men and all, so you left them to it. Daryl seemed to be relaxed now, so you exchanged looks with him and then you exited the room, and towards the stairs that led to the roof, you felt him following you, so you just kept walking until you were on the terrace. 

You looked at the dead city from above, not a light turned on, everything deadly quiet… it was gone… Washington DC was dead…

“What r’ya thinkin?”, you heard Daryl ask behind you

You could tell him, you could tell him that even though your mission was becoming a success that got you clothes, food, materials, weapons and a valuable addition to the club, you were disappointed. As you looked at the dead city, this was the capital of one of the most powerful countries in the world, and it was dead, completely dead, there was no stopping this, there was no hope, and that terrified you.

You never thought the world was going to go back to what it was but… at least… you had hope that maybe one day soon the dead were not going to rise again to eat you. That someone, somewhere, was trying to fix this, that everything wasn’t as lost as it looked.

But things were not looking up…

You could have said that, as you looked back to him, but you only smiled 

“Just wanted to see the city… if we could see some lights or something”, you mumbled. He looked uncomfortable now, looking everywhere but at you, “but there’s nothing”, you tried. You quickly realized you had so much to say, and he did look like he wanted to say things too, there was so much you wanted to ask him, that you wanted to talk to him about… but still… nothing…

You had to take that step… 

“Everything went well and I still think…”, you took a long breath, “we have medicine, guns, food, clothes, and I still feel disappointed”

“Why?”, he asked, and he seemed interested… truly 

“If there was any hope… of ending this… I really thought it was gonna be here”, you whispered, “there is no stopping this… I guess I always hold up hope, but… now I know for sure… we are on our own,” you said, with a lump in your throat

“Yeah”, he said, you turned back and watching him, “there is only us now”, he said softly, looking at you with his piercing eyes, so you smiled at him

“Are you ok with that?”, you asked him, because you were terrified. 

“Yeah”, he said, completely sure, he didn’t even think about it. You looked at him and then you understood it, he didn’t feel alone, or completely left out because he never felt “protected” in the first place, by anybody, or anything, it had always been him against the world. “How ‘bout ya?”, he asked 

“I’m scared”, you admitted, “but I know…”, you stopped your own words, it was so tiring to have to translate everything before you said it, “being with you all makes it better”, you tried, “I know that with you, I stand a chance, that together, we can fight this”, you tried to explain

You were completely terrified, but… he wrapped his arms around you anyways, at this point it felt like a need, to keep touching each other, the physical contact, was becoming like oxygen for you. It had been so long since you had arms wrapped around you protectively. And Daryl’s felt incredibly right, so good. you wrapped your arms around him too, breathing him in.

You still felt sore all over, your shoulder still burned, especially now with stitches in it, but it stopped suddenly when you felt Daryl’s warmth envelop you. 

You stood by his side in silence while he smoked a cigarette, you didn’t like it, neither the smell nor the act itself, but you stood there nonetheless, accompanying him. 

When you went back to Alex’s quarters, you heard them, Abraham and him were drinking Whiskey, while Rosita laughed at their occurrences, and Eugene was occupied with an electronic… thing… he found in the mall 

“So… Deanna is like the Queen, but Rick is like the prime minister”, he said weirdly

“Something like that”

“Wha’?”, asked Daryl. You only laughed while shaking your head. 

“Makes perfect sense”, you said with a laugh, you then turned to Daryl, “Deanna is like the Queen, she is the symbolic power, while Rick is the prime minister, he makes all the real decisions, but they cannot rule without the other”, you said simply.

“Whatever”, he grumbled, he took a seat in the corner of the room, you wanted to join him, but… Rosita joined in with the guys, taking a glass and sipping on some scotch, and you joined in as well… Eugene took out a deck of cards, and you started playing, and drinking… then the instant ramens came out and it was the greatest thing ever. Daryl watched from the corner, staying at the margin, and even though you insisted he joined you, the only thing he did was sit by your side, he didn’t take a drink, he didn’t play cards, but he was there, right by your side. 

The very next day, at the crack of dawn, you were ecstatic to return home, but so hungover you could barely keep a thought together. Abraham and Alexander were making an inventory, and loading all of his… guns… including two RPG’s and like three rockets for each… in the trailer of the HUMVEE. 

You ransacked the entirety of Alexander’s quarters, everything he had, which were very important things, they all fit in the truck

“I don’t think we should have this ones in Alexandria”, you whispered, your felt Daryl’s gaze on you

“Why?”, he asked

“What if something goes wrong?”, you ask him back. Alex looked at you and nodded

“like what?”, he asked

“Any emergency, we are attacked by another group, or we are forced out by the Alexandrians, or… I don’t know… a hostile takeover happens… anything”

“I know exactly what we should do”, Alexander said with a smile. 

“This is bananas”, you mumbled, as you drove the three vehicles to the mall, and used plastic from the hardware store, to wrap the guns, rifles and all, and put them on the bottom of the tanker, it was risky, but at least it was something until you could get them in a safer place. You left one rifle and one of the RPG’s out, because it would be odd if you showed up with Alexander and no arms at all. 

You grabbed everything you could carry, all of it, a couple of months worth of food, supplies, medicine, clothes. You grabbed the things you scavenged for yourself… and a little thing you grabbed for Daryl, it was noon when you were done and ready to get back. you passed the 96th hour mark, and that concerned you, are they going to be worried? you could bet on it. 

You got inside the passenger seat of the HUMVEE, your shoulder hurts, bad, especially with all the movement, you refused to stand back and you helped carry anything you could get your hands on, the price was that you had to blink away tears because of the sharp pain. But it was worth it, you were lifting your weight, in the mission you requested. 

You didn’t even know how you managed to land in this sitting arrangement, you wanted to drive, Alexander said no, but you wanted to ride the HUMVEE, and Daryl was quick to jump in the back seat.

Abraham was driving the tanker, and Rosita the truck, she led the caravan, you were next, and then Abraham in the back. 

You were finally going back home, the mission was becoming a success. 

With a couple of hours of setback, but… You hoped they would understand why, I mean, only four days was a crime in itself… You barely scraped the surface of the city. You watch the Washington memorial disappear in the rearview mirror, and you hoped you could return soon to keep scavenging

“Well, like I said, the Joint Base Andrews was the last bastion of hope for the military, but soon it was evacuated with the rest, and then, it become overrun, till this day is just… a walking graveyard”, he said, and you nodded shamefully, you were lucky enough to not go there, who knows what could have happened if you did. “Unless you know how to drive a F-22’s I don’t know if it would be worth it…”

“I don’t know how to pilot a war plane, no”, you laughed. You picked up a familiar song through the low-volume radio working on CD’S, “uuuhhh I love this song!”.

“Mee too!”, laughed Alexander

“Girl! It’s been a long time since we’ve been apart! Much too long for a man who needs love, I MISS YOU SINCE I’VE BEEN AWAY!”, you really wanted to sing it, even though you could barely sing happy birthday, but your voice carried and Alexander started singing with you, “Babe, it wasn’t easy to leave alone, It’s getting harder each time that I go… If I HAD TO CHOOSE I WOULD STAY!”, this was one of your favorite tunes, classic rock, passionate lyrics, you looked back and looked at Daryl while you sang, he looked like he could kill someone, but as he caught you staring, and singing, his face completely softened. 

“SING IT WITH ME!”, cheered Alexander

“THERE’S NO ONE LIKE YOU! I can't wait for the nights with you! I imagine the things we’ll do! I just want to be loved by you!”, you became incredibly embarrassed because of his confused and blushed face, and looked away, because you couldn’t believe how relatable the song was. Well, Daryl wasn’t a girl but… the rest? It was incredibly similar. But still, he was going to think you were some sort of freak for singing that to him like that….

Oh gods. You kept singing in a low voice, trying to get smaller in the big chair. What was the matter with you? Why were you so horny? since you got to Alexandria, managed to land three meals a day and water and a comfortable bed you were so horny someone could fry an egg over you. Well, being with Daryl didn’t help either, you wanted to be with him…. and you did spend much of your day imagining the things you’d do. He did say that when you were home you could get more personal, you really hoped so.

You shook your head, and started to look away, beyond the vehicle… The setting started to look familiar, trees on both sides of the road, the road dirtier, nature taking over. So you knew you were near home. 

“Wow wow”, muttered Alexander and you looked forwards and you saw Rosita slowing down. 

“What the hell?”, you muttered, there were people on the road… bikers more like it, a bunch of bikers blocking the road. Your hand went straight for the door handle when you saw Rosita jumping out of the truck with her hands in the air. 

“Dixon…”, Alex said, “they can’t see you from here”, but you were spotted as some guy pointed at you to get out, “Are these friends of yours?”, Alex asked, his hands in the air

“No”. You answered, Daryl understood what he meant, he hid behind the seat, and you exited the vehicle as Abraham did behind you, and walked until you were at the front.

“Why don’t you come out, join us in the road?”, asked the leader of them. “That’s great! it's going well right off the gate!”, you already hated this prick. But you didn’t say it outloud, as he and his friends were all armed to the teeth, guns pointed at you. ”Now, step two, hand over your weapons”, he said

“Why?”, asked Abraham

“Well, they're not yours”, he said, and your hand was tickling because of how much you wanted to grab your ax, that you left in the car. 

“Oh no? who’s are they?”, asked Alex, as you were becoming angry. This guy, who looks like he could work as a comic book salesman, got serious all of a sudden

“Your property now belongs to Negan”, he said simply, “and if you can get your hands on that plentiful bounty, you're people our person wants to know”, this bastard looked like payday had arrived, wanting all the things you scavenged. “So let's get those sidearms, shall we?”, he walked right at you, the guys behind him, like this? you couldn’t take them down, if you only had the RPG on hand, but at least, Daryl was in the back. You released the silencer from your gun before you handed him, not after giving the angriest look you could muster, he pretended to be scared, and you believed you had never wanted to punch someone in the face as much as him. “Thank you”, he said mockingly. 

Alexander held onto his gun when he pretended to give it to him, which pissed this guy off quickly, but he released it with an amused glint. Alex wanted to kill this guy, you could tell and you didn’t even know him. but this guy thanked him too. 

Then he went to Abraham, who didn’t even acknowledge him, he just kept looking forwards

“Look if you have to eat shit, best not to nibble. Bite, chew, swallow, repeat. It goes quicker”, Abraham finally gave him his gun, although didn’t bother to say anything. Eugene still had his hand raised in the air, and he was shaking like a leaf, he didn’t have anything on him, and you could tell by his loose clothes. 

“Who are you people?”, asked Rosita

“I get the curiosity, but we have questions ourselves. And we'll be the ones asking them while we drive you back to wherever it is you call home. Take a gander at where you hang your hats”, you laughed like he had said the most funny thing, these guys looked back at you like they wanted to kill you, and they probably did.

“Like hell we will”, you grunted, he only looked at you like you had told him the joke of the century, but then just kept going”

“First, though, your shit. What have you got for us? Much for what I can see”. He said, he couldn’t hide his excitement, “a fruitful trip to DC, I gathered?”

“Yeah, why don’t you guys take a trip too?”, Alex said. 

“Come on. I mean, can we not, okay?”, he said, “You’ll give me your shit, and then, you will take us to the place you call home”

“Who's Negan?”, asked Abraham. This guy did not appreciate you not taking him seriously.

“Ding, dong. Hell's bells”, he said pathetically, “You see, usually we introduce ourselves by just popping one of you right off the bat”, you shifted on your feet, as Eugene whimpered, “but you seem like reasonable people. I mean, you're sportin' military clothes, for Christ's sake”, said looking at Alex, “and, like I said, we're gonna drive you back to where you were. I mean, do you know how awkward it is carpooling with someone whose friend or friends you've just killed?”, he hissed theatrically. 

“Well… we are not taking you anywhere, so”, you said angrily. 

“Well then”, he said, he raised his own guns back at you. All his men who had relaxed their stance did so too. “It will have to do with the shit you already have here, right? it’s plenty, and badass trucks too”

“Wait!”, said Eugene, “we can work this out”

“SHUT UP EUGENE!”, Rosita and you screamed at the same time

“It’s Alexandria! IT’S ALEXANDRIA!”, he screamed, shaking violently, “down the road where it connects with…”

“SHUT UP!”, said Abraham, “hold onto your nutsack for once!”, said Abraham

“Good!”, exclaimed the guy, “the one with cars on the outside and big walls? oh yeah, we had our eye on you for a while now”, he said happily, lowering his guns. “See? wasn’t that hard, but you see? the lot of you don’t seem to have the right disposition”, he said 

“Let the ladies go, and you and I can go take a ride”, said Alex, but his face looked so intimidating he didn't even make it a joke. “What do you say?”, the leader of the fuckers just chuckled.

“I don't want you to get the wrong impression of me”, he said, placing his hand on his chest, “And I already said that I was gonna waste you… so”, he raised his guns again, as did their men

“Great, just great!”, you said, “I can’t believe we survived the fall of cities… the walking dead, cannibals, and rapists, TO BE TAKEN DOWN BY THE SONS OF ANARCHY TRIBUTE GROUP!”, you said angrily

He was going to shoot you and this time you were not going to survive it.

And then, from one second to the next you were ejected backwards by an explosion.

You landed on the floor as the heat hit you hard. Making you cough and protect your face

The bastards had blown up. You didn't understand what was going on, and then Daryl showed up by the side, in his hands, the RPG. You moaned when you saw him, adrenaline making you feel like you were on fire and your man showing up like this… Sleeveless, showing his powerful arms, on his hands a rocket propelled grenade launcher… All sweaty and bothered…

And he just saved your life

“What a bunch of assholes”, he said, dropping the weapon and coming straight for you, helping you off the floor. 

“That was awesome”, laughed Alex, “you saved your ases”, he said, as he and Daryl shook hands in a sign of camaraderie

“That’s what we do”, he said

“Nibble on that!”, said Abraham. 

“We are going in”, said Rick, placing a map of DC on top of the table, “the 97th hour is now, and they are not back yet, I want cars all going on on different routes in case we miss them”

“We have to give them a little time, is still early, even if they left Washington, at this hour, they still going to take a bit longer to get here”, said Michonne, who seemed entertained, “I bet they are making the best of the day to scavenge”

“Or they are trapped in a horde”, said Rick. He looked at the new man in the community, who was standing across from him on the table, “what do you think?”, the man seemed surprised, placing a hand on his chest

“Me?”, he asked

“Well, you told us you were from Washington”, he said, “have you been there since this whole thing got worse?”

“No, not really I have been scavenging in smaller places with Laura and Gary”, he said, rubbing his beard, “How many are they?”, he asked

“Five”, Rick said, “they are… strong, they have decent firepower with them…”, he was concerned, truly concerned, if they lost them, he would have lost his right hand man, his brother, Rosita and Abraham, and his canary…

“I say we go”, said Carl, “(y/n) told us exactly where they were gonna go”, he said, pointing at the plan map, “we should go and get them”

“Carl…”

“I bet he agrees, Smith?”, he asked, looking at the man in question, just like Rick

“Look, kid, I’m new here, alright?”, he said, “Don’t make me the odd man out”, he said with a chuckle, “I say we give them till the end of the day, if they don’t come back by then, we go early in the morning, your best guys and gals, lots of firepower”, he said simply. Rick mumbled something positive under his breath

“Rick…”, called Deanna, “we can’t use that many people, they knew the risks…”

“I’m not abandoning them”, siad Rick, “I’ll go myself”

“Good!”, said Carl, “me too”

“No! you will stay here”, Maggie placed a comforting hand in Carl’s shoulder

“They took our best fighters”, said Maggie, “Daryl, Abraham and Rosita”, she said, worried

“I’ll go”, said Tyresse, but Rick wasn’t convinced, Tyresse was a pacifist, he needed muscle. He needed nerves of steel.

“I’ll go”, said Michonne, and Rick then nodded.

“And me”, said Negan, or rather, the name he was going by… Smith. Rick doubted, but he nodded. Negan got out of Deanna’s house with a smirk on his face, that of course he saved for when he was alone, and met his saviors that were with him

“What happened?”, asked Laura

“Five of their guys are missing”, he said, “I convinced them to wait until tomorrow, but they are going in trough route 633”

“Bud’s territory”, said Laura with a soft smile

“Indeed, this will weaken them considerably”, said Negan, “After that, there is only Prick RIck, the chick with the sword… and maybe a couple of others”

Laura and Gary smiled

“I’ll go tomorrow, to make sure they don’t return”, he said, “Then we take the momentum to bring everyone in”

“So soon?”, asked Gary

“Before they can regroup”, said Negan, “we only need to figure out where they keep the guns, it could get messy”, he said.

They were interrupted, when he heard horns outside the gates. Rick came out running out of the house

“IT'S THEM!”, screamed Glenn excitedly, from the gate, and the gates opened to reveal the truck, the box filled to the brim with things, then the HUMVEE, with the cart, and then, the huge tanker.

Rick laughed, laughed in relief when he saw his family coming out of the vehicles.

They all ran to receive you, all of them who were in Deanna’s house and those near.

“WE MADE IT!”, you screamed happily with open arms. Carl beat his dad and came in and hugged you tightly. This is something nice you had gotten accustomed to doing, hug your people goodbye, or hello… because you never knew if you were going to see them again. Michonne hugged you next, and you saw Deanna’s and Rick’s faces, looking at all the things you had brought. 

Rick turned to you and hugged you tightly

“See all the stuff we got?”. you asked

“I don’t give a shit, I’m glad you are all back”, he mumbled against your neck, his hand on the back of your head.

The greeting were finally over, so they all turned to the odd man out, Alexander

“Who’s this?”, asked Rick, he looked back at Deanna who was… admiring… Alex

“You must be Deanna”, said Alex, almost bowing to the woman, he grabbed her hand and kissed it, you thought it was too much. “I’m Alexander Price, Sergeant of the US military”, he said quickly, “and you must be Rick”, he said, shooking the hand of your leader, “Your teammates brought me from DC, because they saw in me abilities that could service you as a community, and I could really use a community as well, I’d like to submit myself to whatever test you deem fit to let me be a part of this place”, he said, with a charming smile, you and Daryl shared entertained looks

“Of course Sargeant”, said Deanna, who made you chuckle at the attitude she’s got, like a blushing teenager in front of her crush. She led him towards her house. As Alexander admired everything

“Who's that?”, Rick grabbed your shoulder and you hissed in pain. You were using a V neck, so it was easy for him to spot the wound, “what the hell happened?”

“She got shot”, said Daryl, and they exchanged looks, “Alexander did it”

“WHAT?”, he said, outraged

“We didn’t know him yet!”, you explained. 

“We need to talk”, he said, looking at the lot of you.

“We will unload as we do an inventory”, said Glenn, and Rosita and Abraham nodded. 

“Yes Sir”, you said then, looking at Rick, and you and Daryl walked back towards your house, in the way… you saw three strange figures

“Looks like the mission is off”, said Rick to the three newbies. 

“Your people came back! great!”, this was… an odd looking man, sharp hazel eyes, salt and pepper beard, hair combed back, leather jacket. “My pleasure, my lady, gentlemen”, he said, “My name is Smith, and these are Laura and Gary”, he presented.

You decided you didn’t like them right then and there, it was a hunch, a feeling, that you needed to keep away from them, you didn’t know why

Daryl only nodded, and you just went in your way… You felt his eyes on you as you walked away, but you were probably just imagining things. 

“Who the hell is that guy?”, grumbled Daryl, as you three looked back at the new guy walking with such a stance he thought himself to be the owner of the place.

“He and two others approached Glenn and Nicholas while they were out there, they looked pretty roughed up”, he said, “I don’t like this, but Deanna let them in, couldn’t do anything about it”, he said, “but there’s three of them, and a bunch of us, so…”, you left it at that, as you filled Rick in everything that happened, including your recent encounter with those men. He begrudgingly accepted Alex in the community, especially when you told him you had doubled the number of guns, with the handguns from the pentagon and the weapons from Alex, and he also agreed that was going to be kept within you seven, the DC Team and him, and you were going to hide the guns out there. 

He also had news… but those were coming the next day, when he could gather everyone again and you six had your rest  He insisted…

So you tried your best to have your rest, but after a dinner in your honor, where they spoiled the six of you, you had managed to get your archer in your bed, laying over the covers. Expecting your surprise.

“I have something for you”, you said shyly, he accommodated on the bed and looked at you through his wild hair

“Wha’?”, you smiled

“Promise me you won’t be mad, it’s something I found while I was on our run”, you said softly, “and don’t take this the wrong way, I just saw it and I thought of you”, you said, you revealed a pajama wrapped in a single bow.

“For me?”, he asked, he seemed truly surprised, receiving the gift

“Yeah”, you said, “it was so soft… so I thought of you”, you said softly

“Thanks”, he said, he looked truly touched, and you smiled

“I got something else”, you said, arching one of your eyebrows 

“Wha’?”, he asked, laying down again, you grabbed your hoodie, and opened the zipper slowly, revealing to your partner the little lingerie set that you had scavenged with Rosita.

You could already hear Daryl getting angry because you would think about things like that, but no matter, you had a couple of wine glasses for liquid courage, or else you wouldn’t have the bravery to show yourself like this to him. 

“Did you really scavenge tha’?”, he asked incredulously, you looked down and you saw your breasts dressed in… well… cheap lace, but lace at least, “instead of…?”

“I’m returning it then”, you said dangerously and he shook his head with a smile, “if it's of any consolation I took one for each of the girls too, so everyone is getting lucky tonight”, you said with a wide smile, “Michonne, Maggie, Rosita, even Tara, I see it as a way to boost morale, very important”

“Come ‘er”, he said, reaching for you, you disposed of your cotton pants revealing the bottom part and you laughed when you heard him growl. You walked slowly to the bed, teasingly, and then you straddled him. 

Oh this was it! you were finally going to…, he grabbed you softly and placed you on your side, not in your injured side 

“Ya r’injured”, he mumbled, grabbing your thick bedcover and placing it over you.

“Hey but…”, you protested 

“nother time”, you felt your cheeks heated and your nose started to tingle, meaning tears were coming… You actually put on freaking lingerie on yourself to please him and he barely even looked at you, he rejected you. 

You felt so stupid, and even more stupid to feel like that, but you did.

You wanted to cry

“Ok”, your voice cracked, you hoped he didn’t notice.

But of course he did

“Hey”, he called, but you hid your face from him, “Don’t be upset”, he said gently. You actually threw the bed covers away and jumped off the bed, “hey”, he called softly.

“I can’t sleep on this, the wire is crushing my ribs, and the lace is rubbing in all the wrong ways”, you explained as you walked towards the bathroom. You heard him sigh. 

“Why’d you put it on then?”, he asked through the wood of the door. You shook your head as you wiped your tears, and winced in pain when you had to use your injured shoulder to get out of the ensemble, but you wouldn’t ask him for help... You shook your head and grabbed your pajama, put it on quickly, it wasn’t flattering in any way shape or form, it was comfortable as hell though, long sleeve and leg. You then went back to the room and you almost gasped when you found Daryl, wearing the pajama you got for him. It was a black cotton henley, with long leg bottoms, with a tartan in black, green, blue, yellow and red. 

“You’right”, he mumbled with a soft smile, “these are comfortable as hell!”, you smiled sadly, and again you walked towards him, he grabbed you in his arms and placed back into the bed, hugging you tightly, “damn”, he grumbled, “is like we are both on clouds”, he whispered. 

You had to admit it felt great, so soft, especially when he grabbed you and cuddled deep into you, his leg around yours, his arms wrapped around you like you were a teddy bear. Your head on his chest.

“I don’t think I had pajamas since I as a kid”, he admitted, whispering in your ear

“Really?”, you asked softly

“Mmm”, he grumbled, “before my mom turned to booze”, he whispered, “I can actually remember some nice years, didn’t last long though”

“I’m sorry”, you whispered. You caressed his back, and as in his chest, you could feel ridges… scars… deep ones… you hugged onto him tightly. You wanted to protect him, to prevent anything else from happening to him. He didn’t deserve it, what happened to him.

Now you feel like an asshole. 

He wasn’t ready. You kissed his chest, above his neckline, and hugged more into him. 

PCN: SURPRISEEEE! Are you surprised? are you? hehehehe If you are… i’m only going to say this… he is still the Negan we love or the one we love to hate… Also, I’m gonna try to write longer chapters… because I’m finally at the point of the story I wanted to get to hehe, sorry I know I should built this better, but c’mon, I’m not a pro… ALSO, yeah poor reader and poor Daryl… but I’m exploring his character and they have a bit more development to go through until they can… be truly together, and Daryl is just starting to open up to us… so…. good things are coming.

taglist! @crazyunsexycool @capricxnt

[barcaatthemoon]

holiday || lia walti x reader ||

you bring lia home to meet your family.

it wasn't very often that an opportunity arose for you to spend time with both lia and your parents. arsenal's trip to america was a pretty big deal. you and lia managed to fly out a week before everyone else was required to so that you could spend time with your family. the games weren't anywhere near where you had grown up, but lia had never been to south dakota, so you booked a weekend trip.

"there is so much space," lia said as she stared out the car window. the two of you were in the back of your parents' trusted minivan. it had been in the family since you were young, and had been the faithful transport of you and your siblings, and now your siblings' kids.

"it's kind of nice. london really makes me miss it out here," you told her. lia hummed as she turned and grabbed onto your hand. your homesickness had been an issue for the past two season. you had nearly left because of it before lia reminded you that eventually you'd get to go back home, but you might not get to come back to arsenal if you ended your contract early.

"granny's got the whole family at the house, by the way. i told her to give you a day to rest, but she knows you won't be here long," your dad warned you. there was nothing more that you expected from your grandmother. you were the only grandchild who moved more than an hour and a half away, and she missed you like crazy.

"it's fine dad, i got a monster at the airport, and i'm sure that uncle craig brought coffee," you said. at that, your dad laughed, his brother's coffee being a running joke in the family. it was strong to the point of being nearly undrinkable, and yet, the man put cup after cup of it down every single day.

lia seemed a bit lost on the joke, but you were more than happy to fill her in. you were always scared of rambling, so you rarely let yourself go on like you were. lia deserved a bit of a warning, not having really dealt with a true midwestern family before. everybody would agree on clearing out by 8:30, and the last scragglers would most likely hang around until the early hours of the morning.

"this is where you grew up?" lia asked as she pointed at the large house in front of you. since you had left, your parents had added onto the house quite a bit. there were things that you had helped to fund, as had all of your siblings. that house had been in your family for three generations, and none of you were going to let it go to someone else or be torn down.

"yeah, it didn't look like this, but pretty much. come on, let me show you my room!" you excitedly raced up the stairs with your bags. lia followed you, just barely able to keep up.

your room looked exactly like it had when you left it two seasons ago. you had played at the reign before transferring to arsenal, but before that, you had been a husky. washington had been your home away from your parents' place, and your bedroom reflected that. even before you had left for college, you had dreamt of a purple jersey of your own in the shops.

"the bed will be a bit cramped, but we should be fine. just, keep your hands to yourself, my mom has a sixth sense for that sort of thing," you warned lia. she nodded as she took everything in. you made a place for her things and then hopped back to lay on your bed. lia stood there for a moment before joining you, glad to be able to relax for a moment.

the two of you barely got to lay there for a minute before you were called down for dinner. lia looked confused about where to sit until you plopped yourself down at the kids' table. you were more than happy to sit with your younger cousins, nieces, and nephews. in your eyes, that was always the most fun table with their little games and stories.

lia tried to sit with you, but unsurprisingly, your sister pulled her away to the 'hen table' as you had grown up hearing it. you watched as they questioned lia at first. she seemed nervous, but visibly kept calm which you were impressed by. most of your girlfriends from before had run off after a good questioning from your granny and sister-in-law.

"do you kiss that lady?" nicholas, your little brother's son, asked you.

"sometimes, i do. it's a pretty big deal, she's the princess of switzerland," you told him. as if she heard the nickname, lia's head whipped around to look at you. you gave her a little finger wave before turning back to the kids' table antics.

it wasn't for another couple of hours that you got a moment alone with lia. she seemed to be very popular with your family, which you appreciated. most of the time, someone always hated whoever you brought home. you had counted on either your sister-in-law or one of your uncles not approving, but they seemed to love her the most.

"you picked a good one, chicky," your older brother said as he pulled you in for a hug. "i don't know how you pulled her, but i'm glad you did. i'd put a ring on it if i was you."

"shh, don't scare her off," you hissed as you swatted at him.

"hey, don't let her slip away. that's all i'm saying," he told you. he pressed a kiss to the top of your head and then left. his words were bouncing around in your head as you helped your parents get the kids who stayed over to bed. lia had headed up for a shower before you, so you hoped that she'd still be awake by the time you got up there.

"i didn't know you had such a big family," lia said. there was nothing behind it, just an observation. you knew that a lot of your teammates would be surprised when your whole family showed up at your game in washington. "do you think you'll come back here when you retire?"

"that's always been the plan," you told her. lia hummed as she pulled you to lay on top of her. "i'd be willing to change that for you."

"i don't want you to change that for me. if you'd let me, i'd like to come back here with you. this is a good place to raise a family."

"is that something you really want with me?" you asked her. lia nodded, as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

"of course it is. now, let's get some rest because i believe i was promised a tour of the farm in the morning," lia said. you chuckled at that, knowing exactly the amount of free labor your dad got from having people "tour the farm."

[andreafmn]

Collision | Chapter 23

Word Count: 4.4K Warnings: medical procedures, death

Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life is at its first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same.

A/N: goodness me, I know it's been forever since I've updated anything. I've been in a bit of a mental rut and nothing was coming to me, but I'm finishing up a couple of updates so I'll definitely be publishing a few things this week. Also, please don't hate me for updating the less loved Twilight fic. Speak is coming soon 🫣🫣 also also, new character 👀👀

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(Y/N) knew it had been too quiet for too long.

Well, not entirely quiet.

After the encounter with Laurent in the woods, his friend Victoria had shown up. The vampire had gone through hitchhikers in Forks like it was an all-you-can-eat buffet. It had the sheriff station in Forks and La Push on high alert. There were too many bodies and not enough explanations—at least none that could be known by the public.

The pack had already doubled their efforts during their patrols, doing all in their power to run the redhead out of their land while protecting the Swan duo in theirs. They had lost sleep and had been overworked for weeks. The vampire had bested them in every move, taunting the pack with her swift and calculated moves.

But the important thing was that Bella was safe, and she seemed to be getting better. At least for the past couple of weeks, she had been better. That’s what (Y/N) thought until she got a call one early March morning.

“What do you mean Bella knows about you?” (Y/N) said through gritted teeth. “And it happened a week ago? Why am I just finding out? I literally talked to her before spring break started.”

“It seems Jacob hinted to the stories she used to hear when she was a kid,” Sam sighed. “Gotta give it to the kid. He really found a workaround the rules. I was gonna tell you as soon as it happened, but you had your exams and everything, so no one wanted to worry you with it.”

“How did she take it? Is everyone okay?”

“Well, Jake and Paul had a little row because Bella blamed us for Jacob keeping his distance from her,” her brother chuckled. “And, well, Paul got a bit mouthy, and Bella ended up slapping him—at least, attempting to—which cause him to get angry and phase. Subsequently Jacob phased to protect her. They’re both fine now and Bella knows everything.”

“And no rules were broken I suppose,” (Y/N) sighed. “But Bella now knows about wolves and vampires and somehow is back in the center of all supernatural danger. Isn’t this all just great?” 

“This is gonna sound harsh, but I prefer her being hunted than you, (Y/N),” Sam admitted. “I know we can protect you in our land, but this one is ruthless and relentless. I would hate for her to have your scent.”

“Well, she doesn’t, thankfully,” she said. “Don’t think she even had my description since you killed her friend. But I thought we were gonna be more proactive when sharing information now.”

“I know, but I wanted you to at least pass that test first,” he confessed. “Look at you now, on your first week as a student doctor.”

“I still can’t believe it’s happening,” (Y/N) exclaimed. “I don’t know what spirits are looking out for me, but it’s almost unbelievable that I’ve been able to do any of this. It takes months for Step 1 to be revised and for college credits to go through. But I’m knocking on wood that these miracles keep happening like this. Might just become the youngest doctor in Washington.”

“If there’s anyone who could do it, it had to be my genius sister.”

“Thanks for the flattery, it does me well in the mornings,” she chuckled. “But I do have to get into work soon. So, thank you for this new information. I will call Bella and see how she’s doing after my shift.”

“Alright, sounds good, Dr. Uley.”

“I like how that sounds,” she beamed. “I’ll see you after work. Bye, Sam.”

“Bye, Dr. Uley.”

When (Y/N) entered the hospital that morning, she believed it would be another routine day. A couple of flu cases, possibly some broken bones in the ER, maybe even a more pressing case. But she had not expected to see Harry Clearwater coming through the doors of the emergency room, Sue trailing close behind.

“(Y/N), I’m gonna need you on this one,” Dr. Mollins, the ER attending, called. “Let’s move the patient to Trauma 1. Talk to me.”

“We’ve got a man in his mid to late 50s showing signs of a severe myocardial infarction,” the paramedic said as he pushed the gurney into the building. “He went into cardiac arrest during transport, but we were able to regain sinus rhythm. He was administered two milligrams of epi.”

(Y/N) felt stuck in her spot, her limbs frozen as the familiar faces moved past her. She had seen her fair share of emergencies during her time at the hospital and her past internships. But seeing someone that she knew completely defenseless and unconscious shot ice through her veins.

“Dr. Uley!” Mollins called her again. “I need you here, now!” 

“Yes, o-of course,” the young woman stammered as she felt her brain finally jumpstart. She sent Sue an apologetic smile as she walked through the curtain that separated Harry’s room from the rest of the beds. “I’m here.”

As soon as she slid the curtain behind her, (Y/N), Eden Mollins, and a nurse started to examine Harry. His blood was extracted, his pulse and his blood pressure were taken, his lungs were listened to, and his temperature was taken. All the while, the man remained unconscious, and (Y/N) prayed to whatever was out there that he at least opened his eyes.

Every second that passed, the girl’s breath hitched in her throat. All she could do was think back at the summers she would spend in the Clearwaters home, running around with Seth and Leah while Harry watched over them, how he and Billy would gather all the kids around the bonfire to tell them stories about the ancestors, how he watched over her and Sam when her father had decided to disappear from their lives.

“I wanna run an EKG and an Echo on the patient,” Eden instructed. “And call in a CT and a chest MRI. The patient is still unconscious, so…”

“Harry,” (Y/N) choked out. “His name is Harry.”

“Excuse me?”

“The patient’s name is Harry,” she restated. “Harry Clearwater.”

“Do you know the pa… Mr. Clearwater, Uley?”

“Yes, I do.”

“You have to tell me right now if that will impair your treatment of the patient today, Uley,” the doctor said. “I cannot have you freeze like you did.”

“Good,” he nodded. “He seems stable for now, so go out there and get some background from the wife. Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright then.”

The doctor slid the curtains open to reveal a teary-eyed Sue. Once he was gone, (Y/N) allowed herself to throw her arms around the woman, wrapping her in a tight, warm hug as she whispered how sorry she was. “What happened, Sue?” she whispered. “What caused this? He seemed fine last week.”

“Oh gods, (Y/N), it was just too much for him,” the woman sniffled. “It was Leah. She phased.”

“W-what? Leah shifted into a wolf? How is that possible?”

“That’s not all. The second Harry was down, Seth phased too,” she added. “He said only boys turned into wolves, (Y/N). How could it be that Leah is one too?”

“I could not tell you, Sue,” (Y/N) breathed. “This is just as new to me as it is to you. But what could have triggered the change in Leah? I don’t get it. Thought there were normally signs.”

“Well, she had been acting out a lot recently, and her body started changing dramatically. I thought she was just being a normal moody teenager and that maybe she was going through a second puberty,” Sue sighed. “But this morning, we were arguing about how horrible her mood swings had been, and she just exploded. One second, my daughter was standing before us. And the next, there was a grey wolf breaking through our couch. The shock sent Harry down. His heart just couldn’t take it—you know he’s always had trouble with it. Then, Seth—poor thing—seeing his father go down got so anxious that he shifted too. I tried calling Sam after I called 911, but Emily told me he was out with his wolves chasing that leech out of the forest. “It was all so sudden, (Y/N),” the woman cried, taking (Y/N)’s offered hand. “She ran out the door with Seth behind and I couldn’t stop them. I had to get Harry to the hospital.”

“Oh, Sue, that’s just horrible,” the girl said. “I can’t believe that happened.”

“Tell me, (Y/N). Is it bad? Is Harry gonna be okay?”

(Y/N) took in a steadying breath as she braced herself to tell one of the people who had essentially raised her that her husband was not showing good signs. How could she speak those words when she didn’t want to believe them herself? “Look, Sue, I can’t lie to you. Things are not looking good,” she explained. “With his age, his pre-existing condition, and the severity of this episode, it’s still too early to tell. We need him to wake up in order to assess the situation fully. If not…”

“I know,” Sue interjected. “I just don’t know what I would do without him.”

“Okay, let’s not go there just yet, Sue,” (Y/N) stammered. “Why don’t you call someone to be with you while we run labs? I wouldn’t want you to be alone right now.”

“Don’t worry about me, (Y/N),” she softly smiled. “I already called Charlie and Billy. They’re on their way here already.”

“Good. I’m gonna go check on his labs. If you need anything or need me here, just let one of the nurses know and they’ll page me right back.”

“That’s alright, (Y/N). I know you’re busy.”

When she left the room, (Y/N) finally felt like she could breathe. But there was a nagging in the deepest corners of her head that was telling her that something bad was going to go down. Yet, she wanted to listen to the rational side of her brain. Harry was in the best place to receive treatment if another episode were to happen. She had to trust that they would be able to help him. She simply had to.

The girl busied herself with other patients’ labs and filing anything that kept her as far away from Harry’s results as possible. She couldn’t face another loss so quickly. Not yet. She wasn’t sure if her heart could take it.

During her short life, (Y/N) had faced too many grievances that had forced her to grow up too quickly. Her father had walked out of her life when she was too young, and she needed him the most, forcing her mother to spend too much time at work and too little time at home. Most of the time, it was only Sam and her at home dealing with their schoolwork and food. Then, right as they were learning how to be the dynamic duo, she was accepted at St. Agustine Prep, and she had to learn how to be by herself for the better part of four years. After, she met the man she thought would be her future, and he ripped her heart apart like it hadn’t been fragile to begin with. Sadness was simply a part of (Y/N)’s existence, but she didn’t think there was more she could take.

(Y/N) prayed quietly. She prayed harder than she ever had before in her life. She didn’t know to what exactly, but she prayed.

And yet, the universe rarely played things out in the way she wanted.

The young woman was on her way to greet Billy Black and Charlie Swan when a loud ringing alarm called her attention. It was the soundtrack of despair, the theme song of disappointment, and the last thing (Y/N) wanted to hear. Her legs started moving before she could think twice, setting off for Harry’s room. There, the flatlining sound filled her ears, mixed with Sue’s pleas for help as nurses pulled her aside to allow the doctors to work.

“The patient’s coding, Uley,” Eden called out. “Start compressions. This is your call.”

(Y/N) was already on Harry before Mollins had finished his sentence. Her full attention was on her counts, pressing on his chest like she had been taught to do. One, two, three, four, all the way to thirty before the nurse administered air pumps. Then again, and again.

“Push one milligram of epi,” (Y/N) called out, not stopping her compressions for another three minutes. “Check rhythm.” 

As she removed her hands, the screen showed a red line once more, and that pesky sound filled the room again. “Still asystole,” Eden said. “Push another milligram and clear for defib.” 

(Y/N) continued her work as sweat formed on her forehead. She pushed into the man’s chest at a steady pace, even when she felt her limbs wanted to give out. Her legs trembled under her, and her heart hammered loudly against her chest, but she couldn’t stop. Even after two defibrillations that yielded no results, the girl kept administering compressions.

“Uley, it’s time to call it,” Mollins whispered softly at the young doctor. “It’s been over thirty minutes.” 

“No!” (Y/N) exclaimed. Beads of sweat were falling down her face and mixing with her tears, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop. Not for Harry. “I’ve gotta keep going!” 

“(Y/N),” Eden called her, taking hold of her wrists and forcing her gaze to break from the man. “It’s time to call it.”

“I can’t,” she trembled as she fell onto the doctor. “He can’t…” 

But the consistent sound of a flatline killed her words. That was it. Her first patient was gone, and it was someone she had looked up to like a father. Despite all of her efforts, he was gone, and there was nothing else she could do about it.

“Time of death: 1542,” the doctor called to the nurse before turning back to the crumbling girl. “You did everything you could, (Y/N). You did everything right.”

“But he’s gone,” she cried. “He’s gone, and I could’ve done more.”

“No. There was nothing at all that you could have done,” Eden said. "Unfortunately, this is part of the job. We can’t save them all, (Y/N), but you absolutely did everything you could have.” 

“I know I can’t save them all, but I needed to save him.” 

“Tell you what, I’m gonna break the news to the family right now,” the young man said. “You’re gonna take a second to compose yourself before you go out there, and I want you to take the rest of the day off to rest.” 

“I shouldn’t…” 

“I know that it’s unconventional, and most doctors would have said that you needed to get used to it,” he added. “But you need this, (Y/N). This case is too personal, and I know it’s gonna take a toll on you.” 

“Okay,” she whimpered. “Thank you, Dr. Mollins.” 

“I already told you, (Y/N). When we’re off a case, it’s Eden.” 

The moment Eden left the room, the silence that filled it was worse than the beeping and the alarms. It was eerie and loaded, and it made (Y/N) feel like it would swallow her at any moment.

Yet, the only other presence there was Harry. His face was covered with a white sheet, shielding his body from everyone. And for that, she was thankful. (Y/N) couldn’t look at his face. She knew her mind would trick her into thinking that he was merely sleeping and that at any moment, he would wake up and say the most unfunny joke she had heard of, but she would have laughed anyway because it would have meant that he was alive.

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” she whispered to him. “I tried so hard. I hope you know that.”

“He does, honey.” Sue’s voice startled her. Tears stained the woman’s face, but her desperation was gone. She wrapped her arms around the younger girl, smoothing down her hair in a comforting manner. “He knows how hard you fought for him, (Y/N). It was just his time.”

“He was fine just last week,” she sobbed. “I can’t believe he’s just gone now.”

“As long as he is in our memories, he will never truly be gone,” the woman smiled sadly. “But he is with our spirits now, reunited with his ancestors.”

“Harry will never be forgotten that I can promise you, Sue.”

“He really loved you, (Y/N),” Sue mentioned. “He was always so amazed by everything that you were doing. He loved to boast about how far he knew you’d go to literally anyone who would listen. Deep down, he wanted Leah and Sam to work out so we’d be officially family.”

“I’m really gonna miss him, Sue. I wish I had spent more time with him these last few years. And now…”

“Oh, honey, no. Don’t do that,” the woman comforted. “Harry knew how busy you are, how busy you’ve always been. He was just so happy to know you were doing something you loved.”

“May his soul rest easy now,” the girl whimpered before placing a hand on Harry’s. “Until we meet again, Harry.”

(Y/N) excused herself from the room, allowing Sue to have one last moment with Harry. Outside, she acknowledged Charlie and Billy, giving them a sad smile before she disappeared into the doctor’s locker rooms. She couldn’t face another person who was close to Harry, not when she could still feel the beat of his heart under her hands.

Inside the locker room, she allowed herself to break down. She crumpled to the floor, clutching at her chest as every emotion came barreling down on her. There was pain and turmoil, anger and disappointment. But most of all, it was the harrowing sadness that she had been carrying since she was a little girl that draped itself over her, swallowing her completely and dragging her into the darkness.

Until a voice pulled her out. “Hey, hey, Uley,” Eden called as he kneeled in front of her. “Come on, you need to breathe. Take a deep breath.”

“I-I-I c-can’t,” she stammered. Her breath got trapped in her chest, tightening her lungs and making them burn for oxygen.

“Yes, you can. Come on,” he encouraged. “Match my breaths, okay? Come on, in and out.”

Eden took deep breaths, exhaling after holding them for five seconds. His hands found hers, forcing her gaze to snap to his. He continued the breathing exercises until she was finally able to match his pace. Her body stopped shaking, and feeling started returning to her limbs as her sobs quieted down. As weakness took over her, (Y/N) crashed onto Eden’s chest, allowing him to wrap her in a warm and comforting hug.

It was an unexpected embrace that she was more than thankful for. Eden had come to the hospital three months after Carlisle had left to fill the hole left in the emergency department. When (Y/N) had entered and started her clinical rotations, he had been tasked with being her teacher in emergency medicine.  

He had not taken to her quickly. From her work as a medical assistant, he had said she was far too young and too inexperienced to be in the hospital. Though he had eaten his words in a short amount of time, he still seemed to hold some sort of disdain for her. At least, that’s what she had thought until that very moment.

“Hey, there you go,” he cooed. “Just keep breathing, okay?”

“Gods,” (Y/N) croaked out. “I’m sorry. I know I should be okay with death, but this…”

“You don’t have to apologize, (Y/N). Never apologize for the emotions you’re feeling,” Eden reassured. “Especially not after losing someone close to you. That is something no one could ever fault you for.”

“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?” the girl blurted. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but it’s not a secret that you don’t really like me.”

“Why would you think that?” she asked, his tone hinting at being slightly offended. “I don’t think I’ve given any indication of that.”

“Come on, Eden. You’re always giving me dirty looks and have gotten mad at me at any turn this whole week. It’s not hard to decipher that you don’t really enjoy my presence at the hospital.”

“Oh god, no. That has nothing to do with you—at least not directly,” he quickly assured. "I think you’re a brilliant doctor, and I’m honestly so impressed that you’re here at your age. My attitude has more to do with the fact that my parents saw you working here a week after I finally got here, and they were on me because I could have been like you.”

“What, a terrified nineteen-year-old playing at being a doctor?”

“Christ, I didn’t think you’d heard that,” he grimaced. “That came from a really childish place. It’s just that my parents have always pushed me to be the best, much to my detriment. I had the ability to jump a few grades or do dual enrollment like you did, but I wanted the whole high school experience. So, even if I graduated at sixteen and finished my bachelor's in three years, I could have always done better. So, here I am at twenty-five and already an attending, but in comes a nineteen-year-old med student who somehow was able to skip two whole years of med school and had an almost perfect Step 1 score, and suddenly my achievements aren’t good enough anymore. I’m sorry I ever said that. I mean, I’m a grown-ass man caring what my parents think.”

“Don’t worry,” she smiled softly. “It just made me want to prove myself even more. I’m kind of used to people underestimating me.”

“Yeah, I quickly learned I shouldn’t have,” he chuckled. “You’re a great doctor, (Y/N), and a great person.”

“Well, thank you,” she beamed. "It honestly means a lot coming from you, especially now.”

“I can promise that was the first and last time I ever underestimate you,” Eden smiled brightly.  “Now, you should go home. Your brother just came back.”

“Came back?”

“He arrived when you were down at the CT scan, but he left for an emergency,” the man responded. “He just came back a minute after you left the room.”

At the word emergency, (Y/N) jumped to her feet and ran toward the emergency room, new tears forming in the corners of her eyes. It was a word that held too much weight even before the entire picture was shown. After that morning, the girl could only expect the worst.

Her limbs carried her automatically, her brain not registering where she was going until she crashed into someone. “Is someone else hurt?” she managed to croak out. “Tell me what happened, Sam.”

“Hey, breathe, (Y/N),” her brother instructed as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. “No one’s hurt. Okay? It was just an accident.”

“That still doesn’t make things clearer. What accident?”

“Bella sort of jumped or slipped off a high cliff while we were running Victoria all the way up to the Canadian border,” he said. “I had been here for no more than ten minutes when Jared called me and said that Jake had gotten there just in time. She’s fine now. A bit shaken up and cold, but she’s at Billy’s house resting. You don’t have to worry, (Y/N). It’s been handled.”

“So, she almost drowned, and all she’s doing is sleeping it off?” (Y/N) exclaimed. “Why didn’t you bring her here? She needs to be checked out!”

“(Y/N), I need you to calm down, okay? She chose not to come, and you shouldn’t be worrying about this. You should be going home and resting, too.”

“But she’s…”

“You’re in no headspace to worry about other people, Bean,” Sam cooed as he smoothed down his sister’s hair. “Go home, kid. Rest up. We’ve got things from here.”

“But…”

“Go home, (Y/N),” Sue interjected, a kind smile softly stretching her face. “All that’s left here is legal mumbo jumbo. You’ve done everything you possibly can.”

“I just feel like I need to help in some way. Either here or with Bella. I just…”

“You can’t help anyone if you don’t take care of yourself, Bean,” her brother interrupted. “I promise we’ve got everything handled here, kid.”

After much insistence and a lot of back-and-forth, (Y/N) finally agreed to take her afternoon off and head back home. But loneliness was quick to follow as soon as she was by herself. It sank its claws into her throat and started a never-ending stream of tears that stained her cheeks. Helplessness gripped her chest, nagging at her mind and reminding her of all the things she couldn’t do.

Before she knew it, the afternoon had slowly shifted into night, and (Y/N)’s eyes had fluttered shut in the hospital parking lot. Now, with less weight in her heart and a tight knot in her neck, she sputtered her truck to life and started her trip back home, where she would most likely repeat the same process all over again.

When she got there, the house was eerily quiet, and the cold seeped into her bones as though winter was still scratching its way to the surface. But she knew why it felt that way, and she knew it would be like that for a long time.

Other than Sue, (Y/N) couldn’t get Seth and Leah out of her head. Not only had they been sprung into the supernatural world in such a dramatic way, but they had also lost their father and had not been able to say goodbye. She wondered if they were scared or angry, if a part of them felt guilty. She knew she did, and she couldn’t imagine how heavy it had to weigh on their own hearts and minds.

She was typing their house number when her house phone suddenly rang in her hand, startling her. “Hello?” she said through the phone.

“(Y/N), hi, it’s uh, Bella,” the Swan girl stammered in her usual fashion. “I heard about… I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks, Bella,” she smiled sadly, swallowing down the knot that threatened to close her throat. “Are you okay? Sam told me what happened this morning.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. It was just a horrible accident,” Bella answered quickly. “But I’m fine now. I was actually calling about something else.”

“Oh. Uh, what is it?” 

“Do you think you could come over right after the funeral?”

“To your house?” (Y/N) questioned. “Why?”

“I think there’s someone you should see.” 

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[johnwickb1tsch]

andar conmigo ~ part 9

A Walk in the Clouds/Don John crossover outline/fic- Paul Sutton x fem!Reader x Don John triangle ~ You grow up at Las Nubes vineyard, and have to go home to your dying father. You take your fake new husband, Sgt Paul Sutton, with you...Your old flame don John does not like this at all. Warnings: don John still being himself an asshole, nsfw chapter map

You are so relieved, when at last you reach the end of the meal. 

But Juan calls Paul back, inviting him for a brandy and some manly conversation. You are wary to leave Paul alone with Juan, but you see that some unspoken challenge has been issued between them, some ridiculous testosterone-fueled thing you cannot fully understand the merit of.

Paul kisses your cheek, and says he’ll join you shortly. With a warning look at Juan, you acquiesce. Out of politeness doña Maria invites you to join a game of cards in the parlor, but you claim exhaustion, begging off. You see they are secretly relieved. At least you know your place, even if Juan seems strangely possessed by this uncharacteristic wave of generosity towards you.

If only they knew.

Paul follows Juan to his study, accepting the proffered libation in its crystal snifter. Only after the first sip does it occur to him he should hope it's not poisoned. He looks around the room, unsettled by the various dead animals stuffed into poses that are but a sad facsimile of what they once were. A huge brown bear looms in the corner, its dagger-like claws extended, its maw gaping wide in a snarl.

“My father shot him not far from here. He was the last we ever saw at Las Nubes, though once these mountains crawled with the beasts.”

“What a shame,” mused Paul.

“Is it? You wouldn’t think so, if you met one in the forest.”

“Maybe not,” Paul agrees begrudgingly.

“That is the difference, between those of us who live in the wilderness, relying upon ourselves. We do not hesitate to defend what is ours, when we have to. We look after our own.”

“I suppose I get that.”

“My family came here a long time ago, señor Sutton. With de Anza, in 1776. The same year your founding fathers signed your little declaración, far away from here.”

“Maybe. Like I said, I don’t know my people, or how long ago they came here,” Paul admits honestly.

Juan waves it off as inconsequential. 

“After the Mexican war and the treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo in 1848, the gringos came, thinking they would take our land because they could, 160 acres at a time. Many Californios lost their land, but we were lucky we were able to prove our title through Mexico city and lawyers in Washington. But laws and lawyers cannot settle everything. We also did what we had to, to protect what is ours from the squatters. We always will protect what is ours.”

Paul nods, understanding that don Juan was not just talking about land. They were talking about you again, and especially after reading your diary earlier that day, he didn’t like the entitlement in this man’s tone one bit. 

“I feel the same way,” Paul answered. “That’s why I was fighting in Europe and Asia for the past four years…while you were growing your grapes and riding your ponies.” 

Don Juan just snorts at this attempt to call him a coward. “Your little war had nothing to do with us here.” 

“You might have felt differently, if Hitler and his Blitzkrieg came tearing over the hill with his sights on you.” 

Juan makes a sound through his teeth, as though it was an idiotic suggestion. “They were never going to make it this far.” 

Paul looks at him over his snifter with a raised eyebrow, thinking Because men like me risked our lives to stop them from doing it, but his innate sense of politeness prevents him, even now. 

“You may be right, señor.” He downs the last of his brandy. Potent stuff, and almost a shame to drink it so quickly. “Please excuse me. I suddenly have the urge to make love to my wife. Good night.”

The shot hits home, though Paul does not bother to watch the aftermath, setting down his snifter and quitting the room. Had he bothered to look back, he would have found don Juan’s fine features pulled in an expression of pure murder. 

***

You are beginning to get worried. 

You are wearing nothing but your silk night shift, and you started out on the bed in some misguided attempt to appear alluring. But the minutes ticked by, and by the time Paul shuffles in you are pacing the floor like an anxious animal. You can tell by the careful way he’s moving he’s a little drunk–the brandy don Pedro makes here is some potent stuff. You remember from when Juan used to sneak it for the two of you.

“Are you alright?” you ask, rising to greet him at the door and look him over, somehow unbelieving that he and don Juan didn’t get into a fight.

“Fine,” he answers with a half smile, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you snugly against him. “So much better now.” There’s a possessiveness in the way he grasps you–it titilates you more than you would like to admit.

“Paul…” you admonish, without a lick of gravity behind it.

He looks down at you with that half smile, a lock of hair in his eyes. “That man really does think he owns you…” Paul marvels, ducking to catch your lips in a sweet kiss. “But you don’t belong to him. You–” He kisses you again, those full lips sending sparks straight to your empty, aching, cunt. “Belong to me.” 

For now. 

Despite what you’d discussed earlier…you don’t have it in you to split hairs, when he looks at you like that in the low light, after a glass of very good wine at dinner, and…and the simple fact that deep down, he might absolutely be right. 

He kisses you then, really kisses you, and you feel yourself melting beneath his soft lips and strong hands.When his fingers bunch up the skirts of your nightie you hold up your arms in invitation, so that he may strip you bare. A low sound escapes him, as he runs his hands down your back, over your curves and the swell of your buttocks. There is something incredibly arousing, about pressing your naked body to his, while he is fully clothed. Slowly he walks you backwards, touching you and squeezing you and by the time the backs of your knees hit the bed you are already soaking wet for him. 

You try to reach for his clothing, his jacket, his tie, his trousers, anything to render him a little more bare, but with a knowing smile he just manhandles you back onto the bed, sinking to his knees to kiss you between your thighs before you can get in a single word edgewise.

You think he’s discovered your weakness now, and is completely using it to his advantage. What better way to make your mind go still, than his tongue on your clit with your legs slung over his broad shoulders? You are putty in his hands, so close to cumming in his mouth when he draws back, wiping his face on your thigh and smiling gently up at you, taking in the disheveled mess he’s made before him. 

He doesn’t say a word, tugging off his tie and tossing his jacket, shrugging out of his suspenders and unbuttoning his shirt, all while looking down at you with a warmth that makes you feel like you just might combust. You watch the show with a loving hunger, wanting him so much it hurts. 

You open like a flower beneath him as he crawls over you, sighing as he settles down, your curves and hard angles meeting in a way as though the universe designed you to fit together. He kisses your lips, melting you to the bone, and you know you would give this man anything he asked for in that moment. 

“Can I make love to you, y/n?” he asks as his hips find their rightful place between your thighs, the thick tip of his manhood hovering maddeningly at your weeping entrance.

“Please?”

You never realized how empty you were without him, until he glides inside you with a moan that raises gooseflesh all across your skin, reveling in wondrous stretch and burn of his length buried in your needy flesh. You cannot stop yourself from thinking, this is the way you are meant to be. 

You find a rhythm together that is older than time, his claiming mouth upon you and his body inside yours, taking you higher with every thrust, filling you with an impossible pleasure and more love in your heart than you think you can stand. You don’t have the presence of mind to remind him or negotiate over the finish. All you can think is how perfectly you fit together, and that you need him. 

This is the magic mother nature weaves, the cycle of life that keeps the species ever marching forward. Desire. That grinding need, driven by lust and love and that straining, desperate yearning for fulfillment. But it feels like more than that, in Paul’s arms. This pleasure feels cosmically ordained–if he is your high priest, then you are the vessel to carry it to God. With your leg wrapped around his hip and his thumb upon your swollen bud, you become nothing but gasping breath and shining nerve endings.

You could have wept, when after ruining you with another handful of deep thrusts, Paul withdraws to finish on your belly, writing his love upon your skin in thick creamy ropes of his spend. Gasping for breath, he collapses to the side, pressing his forehead to yours with a satisfied smile. “You feel…like heaven, y/n.”

You kiss him sweetly, boneless after your torrid lovemaking. “So do you.” 

You don’t know how you’ll ever feel complete without him again…and maybe you’re drunk on good wine and lovemaking, but that doesn’t scare you half as much as it did when this day started.  

Only after resting for a minute does he look down at your belly with a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Thank you.”

As grateful as you are– you can't help  but think about how it almost felt incomplete, without him finishing inside you. What a cosmic torture. Somewhere...the gods are laughing at your hubris, that you thought you might escape the way they designed you, and this man it feels they made just for you. 

“Did I mention I’m kicking myself for not bringing any condoms?”

You chuckle with him. “Maybe…you could get me the towel?”

He lifts an eyebrow, looking at you marked with his seed for a moment longer with a primal heat in his eyes that curls your toes all over again. “Yeah.” He kisses you, before going to the washstand to clean himself, and brings you the damp rag. 

You fall asleep tangled together, your head on his shoulder and your legs entwined. You can’t help but feel that life can’t get any sweeter, than ending the day in Paul Sutton’s arms.