#when i tried to put distance between me n jesse she immediately looked at me and started moving with I LOVE HER SO MUCH

[shvdowsdrowned]

Idc if this doesn't make sense I'm so fucking pissed rn: I was walking my dog and this lady in her car stopped next to us and she was like "aw he's so cute I gotta get a picture of this" and I'm like okay whatever so I tried to hide my face with my sweater and move away from my dog so I wouldn't get in the pic n she was like "it's your dog cmon stand by her" and I said "no I don't want my picture taken???". At this point my dog has been barking the whole time so the lady was like "can you tell him to stop?" and I said "no she just does that" and the lady goes "hey you work at McDonald's don't you?", I said "no i dont" n she's like "yes you do" as if I was lying (which I wasn't. I'm fucking unemployed) and idk if she got the picture or not but she was like "thank you god bless you" and drove off. Yeah if god fucking blessed me I wouldn't have ran into you thanks for ruining my day you fuck

[losingherface]

Stay 3

ellie x fem reader

warnings:

info: Reader & Ellie’s baby’s birthday is finally here, while setting up for the day, reader learns the truth about the growing distance between her and her wife Ellie.

A/n: Last chapter thx for reading <3 Didn’t proofread :)

•

You finished tying up another balloon you had just blown into. The birthday party colors were sage green and white. It was beautiful and the large backyard of the farmhouse was the perfect setting for a party.

Ellie had been working on the birthday banner and the cake. She seemed excited for her daughters first birthday -so were you, but Ellie’s wish to make it all perfect was so lovely to you. She really loved her baby.

“So where should guests put their gifts?” You said with hesitation in your voice. You two had been talking like coworkers for a while now, some days it was better, most days it was worse. It was like a drought. It started with love, happiness and you willing to drop everything for her, to emptiness, loneliness and wanting to leave as far as you can. But those were just thoughts that passed your mind. Maybe if you hadn’t thought to much about it- it wasn’t true.

“You can…..put ‘em here.” She patted a small brown circular table that hadn’t been occupied.

“Cool.”

Silence filled the air. Making you awkwardly nod your head before going back to your duties.

You wanted to know when this stage of awkwardness would just end. And if it didn’t, did you have enough courage to pack you and your baby’s things and leave her?

“Dina’s here. She said for you to meet her out front.” Ellie says while holding her phone, snapping you out of your thoughts immediately.

“Okay. Got it.” You couldn’t walk out faster.

Dina waves at you while opening her car. A bunch of gifts in the backseat for y/b/n.

“Dina…” You said unsure and confused about why she would spend so much money on your baby in the first place.

“Don’t even. Jesse’s mom gave me some money during our last vacation, and I went a little berserk. Say thank you. Not another word.”

“Thanks. Just gotta figure out where we’ll put all this.”

“It’s a big farmhouse, you’ll figure it out.” She says out of breath, tossing the gifts into the dirt road.

As you both finally got to the front door. You opened it up wide, sliding in the gifts. Dina finally got a chance to catch her breath, loudly blurting out her words,

“So did you talk to Ellie yet?” Dina said making your heart sank a little because you knew Ellie was either listening or not that far away.

You try quieting her down before seeing Ellie, looking at you.

“Tell me what?” Ellie said with a small grin, knowing she had caught the both of you.

Dina and you stood in silence, Dina tried hiding her laugh but walked down the hall to the bathroom instead.

You decided to play with Ellie. You walked beside her and continued about your day, leaving her to her own thoughts. You could tell it was working too because she already had started clinging to you.

You walked to the kitchen, ignoring Ellie and how she followed you around like a dog. You grabbed a mug and poured in some of your coffee. Trying to hold in your smile, you sit at the island and drink.

“Are you gonna tell me?” Ellie asked leaning over the island. “….actually don’t.” Ellie grew impatient and left. You thought that maybe this relationship was truly doomed because she couldn’t even care for five minute.

•

Time passed, the house was covered in decorations for Y/b/n’s birthday. It was gorgeous. Your favorite was the tall vanilla cake. It was elegant and matched the party perfectly. There were two cakes. One small one for Y/b/n to have fun with and the pretty one for the guests.

Before you knew it, the party had started. People were in the backyard split into their own groups having their own conversations. Some kids were playing and rolling down the small little hills in the backyard.

You realized it was a beautiful yet bland backyard. It wouldn’t have killed you to throw a swing in there or something.

You and Ellie greeted the guests, as a couple, and returned back to managing the whole party.

Dina had been inside sitting at the island drinking wine which it was only 3 pm. You decided to try to get her to come out since she hadn’t greeted anyone yet.

“Dina. I think JJ wants to see his mom.” You said slowly walking over to her. She jumped up from her slumped posture and gave you a quick, fake, smile.

“Dina…did you hear me?”

“Yes. I heard… What was I thinking letting Jesse still come here?”

And it suddenly hit you. You had thought Dina had been over the fact that Jesse wasn’t loyal or a good father. You had been so sucked into your own minor problems, you didn’t even notice that your friend was broken and devastated and kind of depressed. The guilt hit you, and you wanted to throw Jesse out of your party but it was too late.

“What can I do?” You say softly trying to satisfy her.

“Honestly, you can go back to the party. It’s your baby’s first birthday, you shouldn’t be in here worrying about my problems.” Dina said, continuing to drink the wine.

“Yeah…..okay. I’ll get you some cake.” You leave back to the party since it was the only thing you could do. You walked slowly out the kitchen. Feeling like you needed to fix something but you didn’t. All you needed to do was focus on your baby’s birthday and Ellie. That was your family.

You stood beside your baby, eventually lifting her as the small crowd sung happy birthday. The smile on your baby’s face was the most adorable thing to you. You smothered her little round face in small kisses as you helped her blow her candles out. Ellie then took her out of your arms and lifted her up high, playing in her face, giving her kisses like you did.

Ellie then cut y/b/n a slice of cake and let her go at it. The guests slowly started to leave, some stayed a little longer but you were grateful either way.

By the time you got back to the kitchen Dina was gone.

Ellie and you hadn’t said a word to each other since the party had started. When it was finished, you two cleaned up in silence.

You couldn’t help but think… did Joel ruin your relationship? Maybe that was cruel and selfish to think. But it was the truth. Maybe if he had held on a little longer? No. Maybe his passing was a sign? Or a lesson? Or a test? So many thoughts while you scrubbed all the dishes clean.

As the thoughts progress, tears start building up slowly as you reminisce on what used to be with Ellie and you. And it was all too much to take. You were placed in the middle. Stay here in this farmhouse with your ‘wife’ who ignores you, kind of resents you for no reason, is grieving. Or do you leave with your baby, start over again? Or give Ellie a break?

•

The next morning, Ellie wasn’t beside you. You decided to look around for her, the farmhouse was quiet and cold.

Her art room door had been closed only a little bit. You knocked to make sure she was in there.

“Come in!” She yelled from the other side. When you walked in, a huge canvas of just your face was there. You stood there shocked & confused…

Walking over to the canvas, Ellie places her arm on your lower back, pushing you towards her. Before you could say anything she cupped your cheeks and pulled u - kissing your nose.

“You like it? I’ve spent like four months it.”

“So is this why you’ve been distant?” You asked genuinely confused and feeling a bit guilty that leaving her had crossed your mind.

“I’ve been distant?” She asked unaware of how you’ve been feeling. You thought about how maybe she had let go of Joel and has made peace with it all- she just never told you.

Now all you’ve got is this large painting of your face and a suddenly happy wife that you thought hated you, but just really sucked at showing that she was too busy for affection.

You felt stupid, guilty and a mess. A nice, long bath would probably do the trick.

a/n: So clearly i didn’t know how to end it lol. But anyways…….I’m moving on from this to another story but it’ll be based in the last of us universe lolll and also i barely proofread this so ignore any mistakes. 🙏

[ragingbookdragon]

Tonight You're Gonna Go Down In Flames, Just Like Jesse James

A Jason Todd x Reader Story

Word Count: 7.9K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst, Mentions of Blood and Violence

Author's Note: This is the series I did a week or so ago. I figured I'd combine it into one big document so no one had to go searching for all the parts. Enjoy! -Thorne

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

It was a horrible idea in the first place and yet, of all the bad decisions she’d made in her entire life, this one apparently was going to take first place. Of course, part of her told her to just chuck her feelings into the back of her mind and leave them there, but the longer she spent around him, the stronger they got. And regardless of how terrible her love life was—and to be completely honest, it was horrible—she was going to admit her feelings and accept whatever outcome came. What’s the worst he could say? No? No, she didn’t think he’d say that. He flirted with her all the time, called her doll, and complimented her on her reading habits—no one had ever done that.

***

She shifted the red roses into the crook of her elbow, free hand nervously smoothing down her pink sundress, discomfort running up and down her spine as she waited on the front porch of the imposing manor. She’d gone to his apartment earlier but after he hadn’t answered, she remembered that he’d once mentioned the manor as a secondary hangout, prompting her to go there after.

Inhaling sharply, she quickly took the flowers back into her hand when the door opened, and she smiled widely at the older man who stood before her. “Hello, you must be Mister Pennyworth.” she greeted warmly. “I’m (Y/N) (L/N), a friend of Jason’s. Is he here?” she raised the flowers and the gift box in her hand. “I’ve got something for him.”

The man smiled and stepped aside, letting her in. “Of course, Miss (Y/N), please allow me to fetch Master Jason.”

“Oh, you don’t have to call me—and he’s already gone,” she whispered. “Wow, he moves fast for an old man.” Her eyes drifted to the portrait above the hall table and she smiled at the faces of him and his brothers. They looked rather regal for the humorous stories he told her all the time. Footsteps drew her attention away and she turned, smiling at Jason as he walked towards her. He wore a surprised smile, but it was a smile, nonetheless.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” he asked and when she opened her mouth all she managed was a dumb, ‘uh…’ then she shoved the flowers in his face.

“These are for you.” She replied, face heating up as his fingers brushed hers when he took them.

Jason brought the bouquet of roses to his nose and inhaled. “Wow, they’re beautiful, (Y/N).” He gave her that smile that had her stomach fluttering. “Thank you.”

She nodded and held the gift box up too, no longer than about nine inches and about eight wide. “This is for you too.”

“Thank you,” he said, tucking the flowers into his elbow while he unwound the twine rope and opened the box top. He shifted away the tissue paper and pulled out a small book, about the size of his hand and his eyes went wide. “Is this—”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yeah! You mentioned that you wanted a pocket booklet of Emily Dickinson’s poems…so I went scrounging some old bookstores and found one.” She smiled bashfully. “For you.”

He huffed a laugh of disbelief and pulled her in for a quick hug. She tried not to pass out in his arms as he breathed in her ear, “Thank you, (Y/N). Really, thank you, so much.”

“It was no big deal,” she brushed off, pulling away from him and he shook his head.

“Well, it is to me,” he retorted with a grin, then gestured to her. “But I don’t understand, what brought this on?” he nudged her in the side humorously quipping, “I didn’t forget a gift exchange, did I?”

(Y/N) laughed. “No, no you didn’t, it’s just…” she trailed off, falling quiet.

“It’s just…” he repeated, tone and eyes ever curious, and she swallowed thickly.

It’s now or never, (Y/N). Just tell him how you feel.

She motioned to the book. “Well…they say it’s easier to relay feelings when you give gifts.” Smiling, she confessed, “Jason, I…have feelings for you. Really, really strong feelings.” He went slack jawed, and though she felt a pang of embarrassment, she kept speaking. “And I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go out on a date with me tonight? There’s this really nice café uptown that has good soups…or maybe we could go to a bar and get a beer together?”

Clearing her throat, she added, with a flustered smile, “Whatever you wanna do of course. I’d be happy as long as you’re with me.”

He was silent. Jason was completely silent, and she wasn’t sure what was worse, his silence or the shock etched across his face, but she kept hoping for the best. That was until he said her name. And the tone he used…she knew instantly what was coming and all she wanted to do was shove her hand against his mouth and tell him to forget she ever said anything.

“(Y/N)…” he started sympathetically, recovering rather slowly. “I’m flattered,” he admitted, raising the flowers and book in his hands. “For the gifts, really I am…but…” Jason shook his head and gave her a pitied smile. “But I don’t feel the same way that you do…and I am sorry.”

For a moment she couldn’t remember how to breathe, simply gazing at the man she’d been friends with for the past seven months and trying to figure out how she interpreted every moment so horribly wrong. All the kind words and hugs. All the smiles and laughter. All of it.

“(Y/N)?” Jason worried. “Are you alright?”

She blinked, suddenly feeling a flush of coldness ebbing out through her stomach and down her limbs; she nodded, pursing her lips. “Yeah—I’m okay.” (Y/N) cleared her throat and pointed back towards the door. “I’m…I’m gonna go…”

She hadn’t even gotten a foot away when he caught the sleeve of her pink sweater and stopped her. “(Y/N), I’m really sorry. I don’t mean to hurt you like this.”

Sucking up all the embarrassment and heartbreak back in, she turned and let out a ‘pfft’, waving her hand as she lied, “What? No! I totally get it, Jason. Absolutely.”

He seemed unconvinced and she hated how he always knew something was off about her at every moment. “Are you sure?”

(Y/N) couldn’t fight the wobble in her lip as she nodded. “Mhm. Completely.” She tugged out of his grasp. “But I totally remembered that I have a thing to do. A very important thing not here.” She gestured to the door. “So I should go. Like now.”

This time, she didn’t wait when he called out to her and she yanked open the door and closed it behind her as fast as she could, hurrying down the steps to her car.

She climbed in, immediately gripped the steering wheel and pressed her forehead to the top of it, eyes starting to water as she tried to get her breathing under control. Her fingers fumbled with the keys and after the fourth missing of the ignition, she burst into tears and dropped her keys. Her lips wobbled and her sight was blinded as she reached for her keys in the floorboard and when she got them, she shoved them into the slot and twisted, barely hearing the engine roaring to life.

Wiping a hand across her face, she could’ve cared less about the makeup smearing across her skin and she put the car into drive, hoping that with every foot of distance she put between her car and the manor, she could leave a broken heart behind.

Because what was the worst thing he could’ve said?

No?

That was exactly it.

***Part Two***

Of all the bad decisions she’d ever made, this was probably the worst, and all she wanted to do was crawl into a hole and ride out every emotion that was coming onto her like a maelstrom. Every bad date, every failed notion of love just kept washing over her, but this one seemed like the nail in the coffin. She drove aimlessly for hours before she realized it was seven o’clock; a quick stop at her apartment and she fed her cat, also wiping the makeup and tear tracks off her skin before she wandered on foot with the direction of anywhere and nowhere.

***

Collapsing onto one of the benches that sat at the pier of Gotham Bay, she sighed heavily and gazed out at the water. It was calm compared to the storm inside and she propped her elbow on the railing, fist against her cheek, sighing again.

There was no way she could go to work and act like everything was okay. Kelly-Anne was going to drill her all about her “date” and she didn’t even go on one. She groaned. I never should’ve told her that I was going to ask Jason out. That’s going to be more embarrassing than being rejected by him. Another groan escaped her and she bent forward, burying her face in the floral dress pattern. I even wore a stupid dress and heels. Going slack, she let her feelings wash over her.

Something grabbed her shoulder. “Hey.”

“AHHHHH!” She yanked away, shooting up to see one of the masked vigilantes of Gotham city before her.

“Woah, woah!” they calmed, hands outstretched non-threateningly. “I’m not gonna hurt you!”

She pressed a hand to her chest and let out a sigh of relief, reclining on the bench as she heaved, “Oh my God, I thought—I don’t know what I thought you were.” A flighty laugh passed her lips. “You scared the hell out of me, Nightwing.”

He smiled and laughed. “Sorry. I saw you over here and thought I was going to find a new reason to call GCPD.”

“No, no,” she affirmed. “Just…dealing with things.”

Taking a seat beside her, he crossed his ankles and leaned back on the bench. “By groaning beside Gotham Bay at nine o’clock?”

She shot him a heat-less glare. “It was that or drown myself in cheap wine and Lewis Capaldi.”

He seemed to know what she was talking about, surmising, “Heartache?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” she muttered, lolling her head back on the bench, trying to ignore his steady gaze.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N).” She grinned. “What’s yours?”

Nightwing chuckled. “Afraid I can’t give that out or I’ll be in with the Big-Bat.” She giggled and he followed with, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

(Y/N) pursed her lips and shook her head. “Nah…you’ve got better things to do than help a girl nurse a broken heart.”

“Sometimes the better thing to do is talk with someone.” When she met his eyes, he smiled wholeheartedly. “Try me. I’m a good listener.”

Something ached in her chest and after a moment of staring at him, she swallowed thickly and sighed. “There’s this guy I’ve been friends with for a few months now. And he’s really kind and intelligent and super good looking and I—” she shrugged. “I fell in love with him. I mean, it was hard not too with how amazing of a man he is.”

Nightwing nodded. “What’s his name?”

“Jason Todd,” she said, and she couldn’t help the smile that came across her lips. “One of the first times we were hanging out, I told him that his first name meant healer in Greek…but he didn’t seem too keen on that definition.”

“How come?” he inquired, and she shrugged again.

“I don’t really know…Jason’s never been all that open about his past.” (Y/N) looked at him. “I think some bad things happened to him when he was younger and he just…doesn’t let people in easily.” She managed a smile. “I feel like all the times he did tell me about his life, it made me feel special, you know? Knowing he trusted me enough to tell me.”

“You really seem to love him,” Nightwing noted and she couldn’t help the tears that gathered in her eyes.

“I do…Jason’s the first guy that’s ever seen me for me.” (Y/N) pursed her lips. “I’m weird. I work in a library and books are my life and I can talk your ear off about how Raymond Carver single-handedly saved the short story genre.” she sighed. “And I’ve always been the nerdy girl in the friend groups who watched everyone else fall in love while she pined from a distance.” She huffed a pitiful laugh that made even his heart tighten. “I mean, I even went to prom alone.”

Her eyes found his. “But Jason made me feel special. He listened and didn’t get upset when I apologized for talking so much. He just smiled and asked me to keep going.” (Y/N) wiped at her eyes. “I thought that we were getting closer, but God I saw all the signs of him being a good friend as romantic.” She groaned and buried her face in her hands. “And it’s so embarrassing to admit that I’m so starved of love that I saw them as loving gestures.” Another groan escaped her. “And then I asked him out today and got rejected.”

He blinked in shock, wondering why his brother would let this girl go. Obviously, they were perfect for each other. He didn’t tell her that though, instead asking, “What happened?”

(Y/N) moaned. “I showed up at his house with flowers and a book he’d been talking about.” She smushed her cheeks and glared out at the water. “And he was really nice about letting me down easy and I wish I could be upset about that, but I can’t because he was respectful.”

She sat back up on the bench and they both gazed at the stars. “Please tell me that even cute superheroes like you have romantic problems.”

Nightwing chuckled and nodded. “Oh, you’d be totally surprised.”

“Yeah?” (Y/N) giggled and he hummed.

“Two of my exes are super-heroines and they’re really good friends.”

She blinked at him. “Okay, yeah, you win, Nightwing.”

He chuckled and turned his neck, falling silent a moment to gaze at her. “…It does get better, (Y/N).”

Her lips pursed. “I know…I just have to wait it out.” She stared into his eyes. “But I don’t think anyone will ever be as great as Jason is.” Her eyes fell to the water and she sighed, “Is it too much to ask though…that I find someone to hold my hand and love me?”

Nightwing took her hand and laced their fingers. “I can’t do the second thing, but I can do the first for a while…if you want?”

(Y/N)’s eyes watered, and she squeezed his hand. “Yeah…I’d like that.” She propped her head on his shoulder, feeling his cheek press against the top of her head.

“Tell me what your favorite poem is, (Y/N).”

“I’ll bore you to death, Nightwing. And I apologize…a lot.”

“Someone tell you that no one cares when you were younger?”

“More than I’m comfortable admitting,” she sniffed. “From a lot of people I respected too.”

Nightwing hummed. “Well…I’m not them. And I care about what your favorite poem is.” He thumbed the back of her hand. “Please tell me.”

She sighed heavily and murmured, “I will hold you with harbor arms. The lighthouse finding a ship against the lonely sea. A shelter as your legs give out under torrential rain. What I’m trying to tell you is, you are safe here.”

He was silent for a minute, then he whispered, “That’s beautiful, (Y/N).”

“I think about it a lot…about it and Jason,” she replied quietly. “I think he’s afraid of love—of loving someone. I’d give anything to let him know that I’m not afraid of whatever skeletons he’s got in his closet…that…that I’m not afraid of him or what he’s afraid he is.”

Tears gathered in her eyes and she turned her head, quietly sobbing into his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she cried. “I shouldn’t be—I shouldn’t—”

“Shhh,” he whispered, pulling his hand away from hers to curl around her shoulders, giving her a hug. “Let it out. I’m not here to judge you.” He wrapped his other arm around her, resting his chin on her head. “Let it all go, (Y/N).”

And she did. Every rejection throughout her life, from elementary school to high school to every college bar, she let out. Every “You’re not my type” and “I don’t date X girls” she let go of with every heart wrenching sob that tore her throat.

***

She didn’t know how long she cried, but when she was gone, Nightwing’s shoulder was completely soaked and (Y/N) had a raging headache to go with her heartache.

“Feel better?” he questioned when her sobs had subsided into sniffles every minute or two.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “A lot.”

Nightwing smiled. “Sometimes a good cry is all we need.”

“Mhm,” she agreed. “It’s cathartic.”

“Alright, Aristotle,” he chuckled and to her surprise, she found herself laughing. “And there’s the smile!” he cheered, letting her pull away to wipe her face.

“Sorry for boohooing on your shoulder,” (Y/N) apologized and he merely shook his head.

“Nah, don’t mention it.” He brushed off. “I hope someone like you would do the same for me if I needed it.”

She giggled. “Then we’ll meet here when we need good cries, huh, Nightwing?”

He held out his hand, watching her shake it. “Sounds like a good plan, (Y/N).” A siren went off in the distance and his face shifted instantaneously as he rose to his feet. “Rain check on the cry days.”

(Y/N) waved him off. “Don’t worry about it, go save the city.” As he started off, she called out, “Nightwing!”

He spun just for a moment. “Yeah?”

“Thank you,” she smiled.

“Anytime, (Y/N),” he winked and turned, sprinting off.

“Be careful!” she yelled and laughed when he waved a hand in the distance.

***Part Three***

She balanced the tin of cupcakes in one hand and opened the door with the other, already more than nervous as she stepped into GCPD. Some of the officers smiled and nodded at her while others merely watched as she walked up to the desk and cleared her throat.

“Excuse me,” she interrupted. “Is Commissioner Gordon here? I’d like to speak with him.”

The man’s eyes went from the cupcake tin to her face and he asked. “Can I ask what for?”

“Oh, yes, I just need to speak with him about something…involving Batman’s, uh…helpers?” she winced. “It’ll be quick, I promise.”

He cocked a brow, but shrugged and grabbed the phone, pushing a button. “Sir, you’ve got someone here to see you…no sir, she just said it dealt with Batman and the others…understood sir.” He hung the phone up. “He’ll over soon.”

“Thank you,” she smiled, and waited for the detective to arrive. When he did, she held her hand out, “Commissioner Gordon?”

He shook her hand. “Good evening, young lady. What can I do for you?”

“Well, I’m (Y/N) and um…it’s a bit complicated actually.”

“We live in a city with men and women who dress up in costumes and fight insane clowns.” He snorted. “We do complicated around here.”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh and nodded. “That’s fair, Commissioner Gordon.” She raised the tray of cupcakes in her hand. “This is going to be really weird, but I was wondering if I could use the spotlight to…call one of them.”

Gordon’s eyes drifted from the cupcakes to her, then back to the desserts. “You wanna use the Bat-Signal to get one of them…so you can give them cupcakes?”

Her mouth opened and closed, then she admitted, “Okay, that sounded a lot better in my head.” She sighed. “It’s not crazy, I swear but—”

“Why don’t you follow me to my office, and we can talk about this, hmm?” he asked, and she nodded.

“That sounds great, sir.” She followed close behind him to a closed-off room and took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk, waiting for him to sit in his chair.

“So,” he started when he sat down. “Start from the beginning of why you wanna give Batman cupcakes.”

(Y/N)’s cheeks warmed, and she murmured, “Nightwing. I want to give them to Nightwing, actually.” He cocked a brow but said nothing and she cleared her throat. “So, the other week, Nightwing helped me out with something and to repay the debt, I made these.”

“What’d he help you with?” Gordon questioned and she played with the hem of her sweater.

“Uh, he…he, um, helped me with a um…a really embarrassing rejection.” She waved her hand. “And I sobbed like a baby on his shoulder and I just wanna give him these in return and tell him sorry for taking up his valuable time.” (Y/N)’s cheeks felt like they were on fire and she begged, “Please let me use the signal to call and I’ll leave. Promise, sir.”

Gordon watched her for a moment then he chuckled and rose from his desk. “I’ve been doing this for about forty years, and nothing has ever been this funny in my entire life.” She sighed, thinking a ‘no’ was coming and he stood beside her. “Come with me to the elevator and we’ll go up.”

(Y/N) blinked in disbelief. “Wait, what? You’re going to let me?”

“Of all the things I’ve ever had someone come in and ask for? Delivering cupcakes is a new one. And I pride myself on getting the new ones.” He smiled. “Come on.”

Not wanting to blow her chance, she hurried after him with a big smile on her face and soon she was standing next to the giant spotlight, watching it silhouette against the night sky. She waited for a moment, then asked, “So how long does this usually take?”

He grunted. “Takes longer when you ask how long it takes.”

“That makes sense,” she laughed, and someone cleared their throat behind them. Both her and Gordon startled, though his reaction was less noticeable than hers, whereas she jumped a foot in the air.

“Red Hood,” Gordon greeted, holding out a hand to shake. “Good to see you, son.”

“Good to see you as well, Commissioner Gordon.” Red Hood replied. “Big-Bat in charge sent me here to see what was going on. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Gordon said, motioning to (Y/N). “You’ve got a visitor.”

The vigilante turned to her as if finally noticing her presence and he asked, “What’s wrong?”

(Y/N) held out the cupcake tin to him. “I was wondering if you could give these to Nightwing.”

Red Hood glanced down at the cupcakes. “Why’d you make cupcakes for that jerk-off?”

She was shocked to hear such an insult and she bit out, “Well maybe because I wanted to, jerk-off.” He was probably scowling at her from behind that mask, but she wasn’t going to back down. “Nightwing did me a favor last week and I always repay my debts.” (Y/N) held out the tin again. “Will you please give these to him and tell him thank you for his pep-talk?”

Red Hood took the tin from her, asking quietly, “What’d he help you with?”

“Oh my God, why does everyone wanna know?” she griped, then exhaled through her nose. “Fine, I got rejected by a guy I’m in love with, and I boohooed like a baby on a park bench with Nightwing holding my hand like a parent to a child and being super sympathetic.” (Y/N) glared, though she appeared flustered. “Are you happy now, Red Hood?”

“Be a lot happier if you weren’t giving my brother cupcakes,” he muttered under his breath and looked at her. “Do you want the Tupperware back?”

She nodded. “Just tell him that I’ll be back at the bench on Friday this week to pick it up. Same time as the other week.”

“I’ll tell him,” Red Hood said with a rather annoyed tone and started back towards the other side of the building.

“Red Hood!” she called out and he paused, glancing back at her. “Look…I know you’re busy with other things. So…thank you for doing this. Really, I appreciate it.”

He shook his head, murmuring softly, “Don’t worry about it, (Y/N).” And he was gone.

Gordon walked over to her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Miss (Y/N)? Are you alright?”

She blinked and nodded, though she felt a great deal of confusion as she said, “He knew my name?”

***

Jason watched his brothers dig into the cupcakes, groaning about how good they were. He didn’t even need to eat the one he had in his hand because he knew. He knew she made the best baked goods he’d ever had, especially these ones which were her specialty. Double Dutch Chocolate Cupcakes with little pink, shimmering pearls. She put them on because she thought they were cute.

He glanced down at the cupcake in his hands, asking, “How do you know, (Y/N), Dick?”

The eldest brother paused mid-chew and stared at him with a dumbfounded expression. “Huh?”

“Cupcakes,” Jason said, gesturing to them. “She made them as a thanks to you. For last week.” He looked at his brother. “What for?”

Dick swallowed the bite he’d been chewing and nonchalantly replied, “Oh, nothing big. Just being friendly.” He shrugged. “How do you know her?”

Jason scowled. “Don’t do that shit. We both know how I know her.”

“Oh, right! The rejection after the flowers and book!” Dick exclaimed, taking another bite. “So, why’d you say no anyway? She seems like great girl.”

“She is,” he agreed. “The greatest.”

Tim elbowed Dick in the ribs, murmuring, “Is this Jason admitting he’s in love?”

“I don’t know,” Dick replied. “Jaybird, if you’re this pissed at me—”

“I’m not pissed,” he retorted, very much so pissed. “I just don’t want her getting involved with this.”

Dick’s mouth formed an ‘o’. “So that’s why you rejected her. You’re afraid of letting her know about everything.” He hummed knowingly. “See, she said that was probably it. That you’re scared.”

“What?” Jason’s eyes widened. “What’d she say to you?” He handed his younger brother a thumb drive. “What’s this?”

“Recording of the conversation I had with her last Friday,” he replied. “I was planning on giving it to you later tonight.” Dick laid a hand on Jason’s shoulder and murmured, “She’s not going to run away if you’re vulnerable with her Jason.” He nodded to the flash drive. “She’s stronger than you’re giving her credit for.” Dick patted his shoulder and took the cupcake from Jason’s other hand, biting into it. “Oh my God,” he groaned, walking off. “What does she put in these things? They’re addicting.”

***

I’m not afraid of him or what he’s afraid he is.

Jason put his forehead on the desk and stared at the floor, not really sure what was tightening worse, his chest or his throat, but something in the mix started hurting and he let out a shaky breath, vision blurring and he squeezed his eyes shut to keep the tears at bay. Rejecting her affections meant she forgot about him. She forgot that he existed, and she stayed safe. She stayed alive. Jason wanted that. He wanted (Y/N) to grow old with someone and have a family, not die an early death at the hands of some crazed villain or worse, a failure of his saving.

He let out a low groan and rubbed his forehead against the desk, wishing that it would solve all his problems. Mostly the ones in his broken heart. They had texted each other and video called constantly. Usually meeting up once a week to hang out somewhere or go get dinner. His entire life had changed in one conversation, and the only thing he regretted more than telling her he didn’t feel the same way and making her cry was watching her lie that she hadn’t been bothered when he knew deep down that her heart was shattered. He knew it because he watched her breakdown in her car through the manor window before she pulled out of the driveway.

Maybe Dick was right though…and that thought made him wanna vomit because younger-brother syndrome was a real thing and listening to your older brother wasn’t fun. But if she were that honest with Nightwing, that real with him, then maybe he could tell her the truth. All of it. About everything he was hiding from her. His past and most importantly his feelings for her. Maybe he could really keep her safe if he did.

Maybe Jason could be the one she grew old with. The one who held her hand and loved her.

***Part Four***

“I don’t wanna die,” she whimpered, grasping at his wrists that were digging into her side. “Please, I don’t wanna die now.” Tears slipped down her cheeks and she let out a sob. “I don’t wanna die.”

He cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb across her skin. “You’re not going to die.” He promised. “I’m not going to let you die here.”

Her eyes found his behind the domino mask and she whimpered again. “I’m scared, Red Hood.”

“I’m going to save you. I swear I will.” He ignored the blood that had smeared across her cheek and pressed his hand back to her bleeding abdomen, tears of his own gathering in his vision as he whispered, “I won’t lose you too.”

***

She couldn’t help but look to her wristwatch again, just to make sure she hadn’t been late. Of course, she’d gotten there fifteen minutes early, but still—time was a funny thing and sometimes she found herself late to things even if she’d arrived early. She should’ve just told Red Hood to let Nightwing keep the Tupperware, but that thing was like forty dollars and it was her favorite cupcake tin—she wasn’t letting that go.

Footsteps sounded through the traffic from her right and she looked up, smile faltering just slightly when she saw Red Hood coming her way instead of Nightwing. “Hey Red Hood!” she greeted with a tad of confusion and he waved.

“Hey (Y/N).” he raised the tin. “Sorry for being the one to drop this off but Nightwing was…busy.”

She snorted. “Don’t worry about it. Did he like—”

Red Hood dropped the tin, breaking into a sprint towards her. “(Y/N)! BEHIND YOU!”

“What?” (Y/N) spun and gasped when she came face to face with two masked men. “Oh fu—UHN!” one of them sunk their fist into her stomach and she bent over with a gag, knees going out below her as they grabbed her by her arms and yanked her forward.

She heard him screaming for her as they dragged her to the side of the road and shoved her into the back of a van. (Y/N) tried kicking at them but one of them picked something up and hit her across the head and the last thing she saw before everything went dark was Red Hood fading from view as the doors shut.

***

The tires screeched on the van as it hauled off and Jason had barely managed to grab the back handle as it did. He gripped the sides of his hood and cursed sharply, heart already beating wildly as he panted. “Fuck!” he screamed. “Motherfucker!”

He spun around, mind hopping from place to place as if he couldn’t figure out what to do first, and he punched a button on the side of his hood. “Nightwing, do you read me?” The line crackled a moment. “Nightwing! Come in!”

Jesus, I heard you the first time, Hood. What’s wrong? Break a nail?

“Dick,” he whispered. “It’s—it’s (Y/N).”

Something in Jason’s voice told him all he needed to know. What do you need me to do?

He turned in the direction that the van sped off in. “Two masked thugs grabbed her and took off with her in a van.”

License plate and van description?

“I31-FL4. White Chevy van, tinted windows.”

Alright, I’m away from a computer right now, but let me get Tim on the line. Another crackle. Hey Red, you busy?

At the moment. Why?

I need you to run a license plate for me on a white Chevy van.

Mmm, can it wait? I’m in the—oh shit—middle of something right now.

Tim, it’s urgent. (Y/N)’s been grabbed.

Number?

I31-FL4.

Your van just clocked four traffic cameras heading over the bridge past Chinatown into Founders and off to north of Port Adams. Scans are telling me that Cobblepot’s manor is that way.

“Cobblepot?” Jason repeated. “What the hell is he—” his sighed. “Shit, Dick, one of Penguin’s thugs probably saw you and (Y/N) the other night.”

And Penguin’s assumed that she knows who I am. Ugh, times like these I wish I hadn’t busted his gun running from Blüdhaven. Jason, I’m on my way.

Do you need backup, Hood? I’m about twenty out from your position.

“Don’t worry about it, Red.” He assured. “Nightwing and I got this.” Jason started towards the other side of the street, already pulling out his grapple. “You stay on whatever it is you’re doing.”

Aw man. But rescue missions are so fun.

“Tim. Fuck over the line and get off.”

***

Cold water splashed across her skin and she gasped, startling awake with violent shivers. Immediately she tried to get away but found herself bound to a chair; eyes searching wildly until they came to rest on the short and fat man walking towards her, wearing an eyeglass and smoking a cigar.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” He greeted. “Sleep well?”

Swallowing thickly, her eyes darted to the various armed thugs around her and she murmured, “What do you want with me, Mister Cobblepot?”

“Mister Cobblepot?” he cackled. “So polite.” He got in her face. “I want something you have.”

Her eyes found his. “I’m willing to part with whatever you need in return for my life.”

“I want Nightwing’s name,” Penguin said, and she blinked at him.

“Come again?”

His hand split across her face and she cried out in pain. “I don’t want to be drug around. His name. Now.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know Nightwing’s name.”

“Really?” he asked, then held out a hand and she watched someone put a phone in it and he shoved it in her face. “So that ain’t you sobbing on his shoulder like a whore with a heartache?”

Her eyes followed the picture and even from a distance, her and Nightwing’s faces could be seen, as well as their conjoined hands. “Okay,” she started. “I see what that looks like, but it’s not what it is. I swear.” Laughter echoed through the warehouse and she squirmed in her binds.

Penguin gazed at her for a moment, then he cracked his hand back across her face once more, and this time, he busted her lip. “I want his name.”

“I don’t know his name!” she spat the blood out of her mouth. “I was having a moment of weakness and he comforted me like a good person does. That’s it. He didn’t tell me his name.”

“I don’t believe you.” He hissed and she rolled her eyes.

“Look, it’s not my prerogative what you believe but that’s the truth. I don’t know who Nightwing is. Believe me, I asked, and he said he couldn’t tell me.” She leaned forward. “Hit me all you want but I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

He shrugged. “Works for me.” And he punched her in the jaw, grinning proudly when her head lolled forward and she let out a low groan. “Who is he?”

“I. Don’t. Know.” She hissed through clenched teeth and he waved a hand.

“Someone bring me a knife. Maybe she’ll think better if she’s flowing.”

Her eyes widened and she started thrashing. “Okay! Wait! Let’s not be hasty!”

Penguin flicked open the knife and pointed it at her. “Name. Or I’m gonna slash you.”

“Mine? Mister Cobblepot, I’m disappointed that you don’t know the names of the women you kidnap.” She griped, voice turning into a shout of pain when he swiped the knife against her cheek. Blood flowed from the cut down her face, dripping onto her sweatshirt and she teared up, cheek stinging harshly.

“Want me to do the other side and make it match?” he asked, and she glared at him through her teary eyes.

“Go fuck yourself, oompa-loompa.” Glowering at the knife coming back down at her and she watched as something collided with it, causing sparks to jump as the knife practically jumped out of his hand.

Penguin cried out and spun in the direction of whatever had knocked the knife from him. “Red Hood!”

Someone dropped beside him and propped an elbow on the vigilante’s shoulder. “And Nightwing!” he glanced at her. “Sorry for getting you involved in this.”

She tried for a smile but still grimaced. “Say that after you get me out of this.”

He grinned and pulled out his escrima sticks, clicking the buttons. “That’s fair.”

“Well don’t just stand there!” Penguin yelled at the thugs. “Get them!”

It was a free for all. And even she was wincing with pity when a thug landed in front of her feet, blood streaming out of his nose as his eyes rolled back in his head. She figured since they were busy with fighting one another, she could use the time to get out of her binds—if at all possible.

She wriggled vigorously until there was slack in the ropes around her wrist and she started yanking her arms back, ignoring the way it broke her skin and rubbed it raw. Eventually she got one hand out and she let out a cheer, eyes scanning the ground for the knife.

It lay a few feet away and she grunted as she slouched in the chair, kicking her leg out as far as she could to toe it closer. Almost there! She strained against the bind and slammed her foot on the knife, dragging it to her. With a winning smile she picked it up and slashed the rest of the ropes on her wrist and stood up, immediately ducking as another thug flew over her head and she glared at Red Hood.

“Hey! Watch it!”

He stopped fighting, a gang-banger in a headlock. “How’d you get out of that?”

She put her hands on her hips. “I’m not some helpless damsel in distress, Hood.”

Chuckling, he slung the guy into the wall and pointed to the exit. “Get out and run as far as you can.”

“Right.” She spun and started towards the double doors when two thugs got in her way and she sighed. “Oh, fuck off.” Taking a step back, she turned on her heel when one grabbed her around the waist, and she yelped as he lifted her in the air. “Lemme go you big bastard!”

“(Y/N)!”

Someone shouted her name and she did the only thing she could do—she swung knife downwards, narrowly missing her own side as she stabbed the thug in the hip. He screamed, dropping her and she grunted when she hit the concrete. (Y/N) crawled along the ground when the same guy she stabbed, hauled her up by her belt.

“Oh, come on!” she yelled, and he threw her into the corner of the warehouse into some plywood boxes. They shattered under the force of the throw and her weight and she collapsed in a pile of hardboard, something in her side aching much more than anything else, like she’d been stabbed.

After a moment, the fighting seemed to die down and she managed to crawl to her knees, glancing down to find whatever kept poking her in skin and her eyes widened when she saw the jagged end of a piece of plywood sticking out of her stomach. And the second she saw it, the pain came, and she gasped sharply, holding it as she looked up them.

They were dealing with Penguin and she watched as Nightwing shoved the escrima stick to his neck and sent fifty-thousand volts into his body, watching as he jerked and passed out.

(Y/N) fell back on her knees and weakly called, “Guys?” they turned and gaped at her. “Help me.”

Red Hood was the first one to her and he dropped to his knees, pulling her against him. “(Y/N),” he breathed, one hand skimming over her face, the other pressing against the wound. She cried out and he said, “You’re going to be okay.” He looked at Nightwing. “Call a bus. Now.”

Nightwing knelt beside her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, (Y/N). We’re going to take care of you.”

She nodded, though she wasn’t too sure of her belief in them. “It hurts,” she whimpered and Red Hood looked down at her side, raising his gauntlet to it.

“The wood punctured your liver.” He said and she sighed in shock.

“Am…am I gonna die?” she asked quietly, and Red Hood yanked off his hood, pressing down tightly onto her side.

“No. You’re not going to die, (Y/N).”

Suddenly, tears were gathering in her eyes and she whimpered, “I don’t wanna die.” (Y/N) grasped at the wrist that was digging into her abdomen. “Please, I don’t wanna die now.” Tears slipped down her cheeks and she let out a sob. “I don’t wanna die here.”

He cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb across her skin. “You’re not going to die.” He promised. “I’m not going to let you die here.”

Her eyes found his behind the domino mask and she whimpered again. “I’m scared, Red Hood.”

“I’m going to save you. I swear I will.” He ignored the blood that had smeared across her cheek and pressed his hand back to her bleeding abdomen, tears of his own gathering in his vision as he whispered, “I won’t lose you too.”

(Y/N) pressed her head to his shoulder. “I have a cat at my home. If I don’t make it will you get him for me? Find him a good home?”

“Don’t talk like this. You’re going to make it, (Y/N).” He looked at Nightwing. “Where’s the bus?”

“Ten out,” he replied. “I’ll go open the doors.” He hurried off and left the two.

“Red Hood, my cat—”

“You’re going to see Matlock again, I promise,” he interrupted sternly, and she gaped at him.

“How do you know my cat’s name? How do you even know my name?” He met her eyes and slowly reached up, peeling the mask from his face and her jaw went slack. “J—Jason?”

He gave her a weak smile. “Surprised?”

(Y/N) could barely find the words and she huffed, “I called you a jerk-off last weekend.”

“Yeah, I kinda deserved that.” Jason laughed, putting the mask back into place. “Couldn’t help it though. You made cupcakes for my brother.”

“Jealous?” she teased, voice dropping into a groan when she shifted.

Jason cupped her cheek. “Like you wouldn’t believe.” He thumbed her skin as the paramedics entered the warehouse and he smiled. “You’re going to be okay, (Y/N).”

She gripped his hand. “Don’t leave me. Please, Jason, don’t leave me.”

“I’ll come to see you after they get you into the hospital. Okay?”

“Promise?” (Y/N) whispered and he nodded.

“I promise, doll.” He nodded his head and stepped back, letting the medics do their job. And when they had her in the back of the ambulance, he sighed heavily and watched the siren wail as the red lights disappeared down the boulevard.

Dick rested a hand on his shoulder. “Go. I’ll call GCPD.”

Jason turned and pulled his brother into a strong hug, squeezing him tightly. “Thank you, Dick. God, thank you so much.”

“Oh my God, are you willingly hugging me!” Dick screeched, and when Jason tried to pull away, he held on and buried his face in Jason’s shoulder. “My Little-wing!”

“Okay, get the fuck off me. This is embarrassing.” He scowled.

***

Her head felt heavy and she barely had the strength to open her eyes. Brightness flooded her vision and she shut them again, waiting a moment before trying to open them once more. This time, it wasn’t as bright, and she blearily glanced around the room before catching sight of Jason curled up uncomfortably in the hospital chair beside her bed.

She didn’t wake him at first, simply gazing at him. He looked tired. Tired and worn out, like he hadn’t slept in years. Which might’ve been the case if the rumors of Red Hood being the second Robin were true—murdered then revived later. She doubt he slept much at all.

As if he knew she was watching him, his eyes opened and he met hers, blinking the sleep away and then he was leaning forward, gently murmuring, “Hey, (Y/N). How do you feel?”

She sighed, resting on the pillow, the thumb brushing her forehead almost lulling her back into sleep. “…Tired,” she mumbled. “And sore.”

Jason huffed a laugh. “Yeah, getting stabbed will do that to you.” He glanced towards the door. “Let me go get the doctor real—”

“Stay,” she said, grabbing his arm and he stilled. “Please stay. Just for a moment.”

“Alright,” he agreed, sitting back in the chair. “I’ll stay,” he said, but his eyes became firm. “but in five minutes, I’m going to get Doctor Brown.”

(Y/N) stuck her tongue out at him, and they collapsed into laughter, though at one point she groaned, “Oh God, don’t make me laugh.” She rested her hand on her abdomen. “Everything in this general area hurts.”

Jason took her hand. “It will—quit prodding it,” he griped. “You don’t wanna open up your stitches.” He ran his calloused thumb over the back of her hand and met her eyes. “I was so scared when I saw you get taken.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and he shook his head.

“It’s my fault. I should’ve seen it coming earlier. I should’ve told you earlier, but I was so scared of letting you know everything.” Tears gathered in his eyes. “But I almost wasn’t fast enough tonight, and you got hurt and—”

(Y/N) brushed her fingers over his lips, shushing him. “Jason, it wasn’t your fault.”

He frowned behind her fingers. “But you—”

“I’m here.” She affirmed. “And I’m okay.” (Y/N) grabbed his chin. “You saved me.”

“What happens if I’m too late next time?” he asked, eyes searching hers and she smiled.

“We’re not going to let that happen.”

“But it—”

“It’s not going to happen again.” She brushed her thumb over his lip and smiled at him.

He cupped her hand to his face and bent over, pressing his lips to hers; Jason stayed there for a moment, merely resting his forehead to hers and he lamented, “I’m sorry I turned you down. I never meant to hurt you…I was just—”

“Keeping me safe,” she surmised. “I know, baby.” Jason froze, eyes wide. “Too early?”

He chuckled and kissed her again. “Say it again.”

“Mmm, say please, and I’ll throw in a ‘I love you’.” (Y/N) countered.

“Pretty please?”

She grinned. “I love you, babe.”

“I love you, doll.”

[yeahimwiththeband]

-> with the band chapter 15

mrs. shepherd

warning: new beginnings and personal growth.

A/N: izzy in the aftermath. i tried to write what i thought thriving with anxiety disorder would be like, based on some progress i’ve seen. major new year 2023 vibes. 

word count: 4.1k

Izzy lay down in her bed on her first night back at home with her phone against her stomach, the glass on her bare skin. She could hear her mom close up the store below. But Izzy’s mind was somewhere else.

I got out of a bad situation, Izzy said to herself. That was the most comfortable way for her to look at it: Tara’s overdose, George’s needle stuff, Harry not texting her back and leaving her there in the arena, plus all those horrible things he said. People pleaser, no job, not famous, terrible family, not an artist. Harry clearly didn’t respect her. Izzy left a bad situation. This explanation made sense; it was so easy.

Izzy turned the events of the last 72 hours over and over in her mind. 

I put things back the way they’re supposed to be; I wasn’t even supposed to be on that tour. But this explanation was even more sus. Izzy didn’t really believe it as she thought it. It was true that she wasn’t supposed to be there, but the tour was one of the few places she had ever felt at home as herself. It felt more at home to her than the room she lay in now, which felt like it didn’t belong to her anymore. The store was thriving without her there. Her parents didn’t need her as much as she thought. She was unanchored—the feeling was freeing, but lonely.

A guy who was (is?) genuinely in love with me told me about it and I immediately put as much distance between me and him as as I possibly could. Izzy knew that this explanation was true, and it hurt. She believed Harry when he said he was in love with her, despite what he did afterwards. She remembered Harry’s soft eyes and hard hands. Yeah, he was in love with her. She left. He left first—he left me in that arena, Izzy thought. But then you took a bus across the country, a mean voice (but honest) in her head said back. She checked her phone again. Nothing from Harry or Lydia. Every minute that went by chipped away at her belief in Harry’s love for her.

Am I in love with him? Izzy had been punching down this thought since she and Harry had slept together three nights ago. It was too painful to even consider, that someone she was in love with had left her by herself on a concrete floor—and then not sent a single text for three days. 

When Izzy woke up the next morning, California and Harry both seemed so far away. She thought about George and the apartment. Was he there now, alone? She thought about Harry and Jess, rehearsing together for the next dates. She checked her phone: still no reply from Harry.

She felt light. Heartbroken, but light. A giant burden was gone: the boulder had been destroyed. Not by fucking Harry, but by telling him about it and having him embrace it rather than run away. Her one major fatal flaw was gone. Now she just had to deal with the rest of them.

Before Izzy could check her messages again, Olivia burst into her room, already dressed for the day.

“This place is so cute! Your mom is amazing, she made us breakfast.”

Izzy remembered her breakfasts on the tour: toast off random trays in hotels, whatever she could scrounge for - usually an orange and some old coffee - at the co-ops. She smiled: this was so much better, and it was different this time, because Olivia was here. And she was different.

Izzy fought the urge to lie in bed and scroll, or open her laptop - the way all her bad days started, streaming time briefly punctured by other people, instead of the other way around, the way the tour had been. Hearing the past tense applied to the tour in her head hurt Izzy: she was thinking about what it had been. But it was still going on, just without her.

When Izzy arrived in the kitchen, the table was laid out as usual: brioche, butter, eggs, and coffee. Very Italian, just like her grandmother had made it. The eggs were an American concession for her dad. Olivia was eating as if she had been starved for months.

“Where’s dad?” Izzy asked, looking around—he wasn’t at the table on his phone, or in the living room watching TV as usual.

“At the store. Opening up for the day. He adjusted his work hours at his job.” Her mom sounded proud.

Izzy grabbed the chair in front of her and sat down quickly—she could have fallen over from shock. Her dad, helping out with the store? While her mom enjoyed a leisurely breakfast?

Between massive gulps of coffee, Olivia explained their plan for the day. Izzy’s mom didn’t blink. There was no covert guilt-trip about working in the store, no complaints about the amount of inventory to count or cleaning to do.

After cleaning up breakfast, she and Olivia took the bus to the local community college lugging giant tote bags stuffed with clothes. It was November, an odd time to enrol, but the college offered some shorter courses that they could start with. The campus was next to big box store on a highway and looked mostly concrete from the outside, with no visible entrance. It looked like a little like the outside of the Riot Hyatt, but there weren’t any rock stars or buzzing roadies here. Looking at the grey facade, Izzy felt a fleeting urge to pick up her phone, dial Lydia, apologize profusely and ask to come back.

Determined, Izzy found a side entrance, and found the admissions office through a pretty courtyard dotted with students reading on benches, with beautiful Japanese maples, bright red, and maple trees dropping bright yellow and orange leaves onto a green lawn. Izzy had only half a plan but she knew she had to do something. The woman behind the desk side-eyed all the gear they were carrying, but Izzy didn’t care. She didn’t want to work at the store anymore, and she wasn’t following a band around any more, staying on hotel and co-op couches. She enrolled in two short courses in something she’d always been interested in: botany, leaving the weekends free. Olivia got the details about a teaching course that started in January—she’d have to apply, but she still had a few days before the deadline. Oh my god, it was so much easier to do things with other people than it was alone, Izzy thought.

Izzy had never walked so much in her home town. It reminded her a bit of all the walking she did in New York, but instead of skyscrapers and stunning parks, they were walking past an endless parade of fast food joints on an ocean of asphalt. Finally, they got to the old town center.

They had to wait a few minutes outside the consignment store before it opened. Izzy’s fanny pack was bursting with brochures and notes about course codes and enrolment fees.

“Should we, like, donate part of it to a charity in his name?” Olivia asked.

“Maybe?” Izzy responded.

“I feel weird,” Olivia said.

“Me too,” Izzy added. “But I don’t need this stuff.”

A girl who looked 23 or 24, their age, dressed in the same mix of vintage that Izzy had picked up in New York, knelt down behind the double glass doors inside and unlocked them.

“I see Gucci,” she said, trying to contain her eagerness. “We may be able to buy some items up front.”  

Izzy felt a bit self-conscious laying out all the clothing on the store’s counter: the weird rubber crop top, the black dragon dress, one of the suitcases, and so many other clothes. Everything that didn’t feel like her. A hint of green caught her eye from the bottom of her bag: the green dress had made it into the jumble some how. She took it out and held it up. It was still smeared with a bit of red lipstick from where Lydia had drawn a heart.

“Oh, that’s so cute! We can definitely sell that,” the girl behind the counter said.

“Sorry,” Izzy said. “I think I’m going to keep that one.”

“I can take these and pay you when we sell,” she said, taking a bunch of the clothes. “And I can pay you for these up front: the suit case and the dress. We usually eBay high value items, because they don’t really sell in this neighbourhood.”

“What about the rest?” Izzy asked. There were four clothing items left on the counter, including the rubber crop top that she had hated so much.

“I won’t be able to sell those.” Izzy nodded. Not a surprise. She couldn’t believe how much George had paid for these things that were basically unwearable.

“I can do 3k for the suitcase and 400 for the dress,” the girl said nonchalantly.

“I guess that works,” Izzy said, trying to echo her tone before she lowered the price. Izzy didn’t want to negotiate. It was more money than she had ever seen at one time. They exchanged details and Izzy was surprised that the etransfer happened right then: $3,400 hit her account immediately.

With the money, a new thought punched through: another perspective on what happened. I lied. I lied to everyone. I broke George’s heart. Izzy remembered at that moment everything George had done right and wrong. The apartment, the drugs. Disappearing all the time, pulling her up on that streetlight. It had sometimes been right with him; it had been almost the happiest she had ever been, but he never really knew her. Izzy tried to remember when he had ever asked her a question about herself. And she hid plenty from him, too: it’s not like she had volunteered information.  You’re back on your bullshit, living for other people. Harry was right: Izzy had fallen back into that pattern with George. Helping him to hide herself. Izzy remembered the way that Jess had echoed Harry’s words, doubling their sting—it meant that they had talked about her, together. It meant that they were closer than she knew.

Olivia threw her bags on the counter and was able to offload most of it; they took the rest to a Salvation Army, but Izzy kept the green dress. Izzy couldn’t help but giggle at the prospect of the absurd rubber top selling for 99 cents to some teenager. A text from her mom wiped the smile off her face: I have some news for when you get home. Izzy winced—it was like old times, Izzy being independent, and her mom crashing in with some emergency.

“Come on,” Olivia said, “two more stops.”

The first stop was a music store with a series of desperate HELP WANTED signs in the window, obscuring most of the instruments they were trying to sell. WE HAVE BENEFITS! BE SURROUNDED BY THE MAGIC OF MUSIC! They had printed out their resumes. They were going to try old school job hunting to try to speed things up.

“Thank god for this supposed labor shortage,” Olivia said. She looked a bit nervous, the most tense Izzy had ever seen her - Olivia was always so serene. She took a deep breath before going in and Izzy waited outside—she heard a bit of Boyfriends when Olivia swung open the door. Harry was everywhere. It felt like he was haunting her. Memories from just a few nights ago bubbled up all of a sudden and Izzy realized she was in danger of crying outside the store. She could hear Harry’s words on the music: I know I’m not the only one. I’m in love with you. Elisabetta.

Izzy pressed her palms into her eyes and took a deep breath. She picked up her phone and called Meg, spilling out what she was feeling. Reproachful silence was the response from Meg.

“Just say it!” Izzy said. “Whatever you’re going to say, I can take it.”

“He’s probably thinking the same thing,” Meg cautioned. 

“He’s the one who left me in that arena! He’s the one that should call.”

“You’re the one with a boyfriend, as far as he knows. He’s probably waiting for you.”

Just then, Izzy heard a squeal from inside. She made a plan to visit Meg soon and they ended the call.

Olivia burst through the door (mercifully, the song was over by then).

“I got it!” Olivia said, throwing her arms around Izzy.

“Of course you did!”

“They’ve been looking for two months and the manager has had to be behind the counter like seven days a week. $14 an hour, four shifts a week.”

“Amazing! You can take classes around that.”  

“I could even move out and get a roommate on that.” Olivia exhaled. Relief flooded her face.  “Now I can go home. I can go home and say that I have a  plan.”

“That’s good,” Izzy said, though she felt her stomach knot at the prospect of losing her.

“In a few days,” Olivia added quickly. “Not today, don’t panic!”

Olivia pulled Izzy toward the plant nursery—she was almost running, fuelled by excitement. Before Izzy could do a deep breath, Olivia shoved her inside.

The nursery was about an hour walk from the store, and Izzy had been only a few times—but it was her favourite place in town, and the only nursery in driving distance. It was an old glass greenhouse surrounded by new plastic ones, all teeming with seedlings, plants, and tiny trees. When she stepped inside she had to take her coat off, it was so humid. She felt herself instantly relax, surrounded by so many green and growing things. The reception desk was empty, so Izzy wandered around a little bit and called out for someone, then wandered back. She could only hear plant leaves rustling and sprinklers turning off and on. Izzy fixed her hair and took her resume out of her bag. She rang the bell on the desk and waited. A few minutes later, a frantic man with huge glasses came flying out of the back greenhouse.

“Please, please, please tell me you’re here about a job,” he said. Izzy could only smile.

…

Izzy had a new job, part time at the nursery. Olivia had a new job, part time at the music store. Izzy would start three short community college courses: Deciduous Care 102: Identifying Health Concerns, Inspection Certification: Plant Quarantine and Nursery Inspection, and History 403: Arcadia—a History of Botany in the Romantic Era. The first two were practical, the last one she couldn’t resist. Izzy always felt calm when she was in nature. And right now, calm was what she needed. When she worked at the store, she had spent so many hours reading job postings and planning some other career, daydreaming about options. She had three career boards on Pinterest, all filled with ideas. But now she just wanted to do something. Daydreaming time was over.

When she got home, Izzy’s mom was waiting at the door with a thick envelope. Izzy had forgotten her ominous text.

“I’m sorry, Izzy,” she said. “Mrs. Shepherd has passed away.” Izzy wrapped her mom in a tight hug and Olivia made them tea upstairs.

“Peacefully, in her sleep,” she added. Izzy apologized to her mom and held both her hands in her own. Her closed up the store for the day, while Olivia retreated to her room.

“Izzy, I’m going to leave you this to read alone. Mrs. Shepherd was very generous—she gave me something, too. And something for Lydia. I might be able to do some repainting and even take a vacation,” she said. “It’ll help with retirement. She was a saver, you know. Well, except when it came to her clothes.” She wiped a tear away. Mrs. Shepherd was one of the most soft-handed people Izzy had ever met. Always kind. But tough when she needed to be. Holding her mom’s hands in her own, Izzy remembered Mrs. Shepherd’s tight grip on the night of that first concert, and her urgent words: Go! Dance! Izzy really owed Mrs. Shepherd everything. Izzy went to her room; she wanted to be alone, to run over all her memories with Mrs. Shepherd in her mind.

She Izzy was left in the silence of her room, wishing Lydia was there with her. She looked at the envelope. It was well worn, dog eared and yellowing at the edges, and still sealed. It was heavy—there was something she couldn’t identify at the bottom. She picked up her phone and texted Lydia, again: I know I was dishonest with your friend and I’m sorry. I’ve told George I’m sorry myself. I miss you and want to talk to you. Please call me.

Her phone rang, still in her hand. Izzy jumped, and scrambled to pick it up.

“Lydia! Finally. Are you okay? You’ve been scaring me—“

“Izzy.” That voice. It wasn’t Lydia.

“Harry,” Izzy replied. She sat down on the floor of her room.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to call.”

“I’m really happy you called.”

“I wanted to tell you—I wanted to explain something. George and I—“

“I don’t really want to hear about George, Harry.”

“This is something you need to hear—it’s the truth, Izzy. What you said in the arena... I knew I had to tell you. Your story is wrong.”

Izzy waited.

“I met George for the first time when I was recording in London. He was backpacking—not backpacking, on an expensive holiday really—with some of his public school friends. He grew up pretty comfortable, yeah? I heard him play at a bar there, open mic. He had just finished high school. He wanted recording time and Jess knew Elijah, so we said okay. He paid for it, anyway. The studio time.” Harry was talking slowly and steadily, and Izzy couldn’t find a place to cut in. He sounded dark, depressed. This wasn’t the information she was interested in at all: it didn’t answer any of her burning questions, like, where did you go after you left me? Why haven’t you texted me back? “George got into trouble, fast, trying to live like he had in high school and even more than that, like a literal rock star, before the Jess Harper band had even recorded anything. He flew over his band—Jess anyway, before Olivia and Lisa joined—and borrowed so much to record the first album without a studio behind him that his fees on the tour were set up to pay his debts - he’s still paying on that debt. Lot of the money never even hit his bank account. I lent him money, to help out Jess and the band and the rest of it, and I doubt I see that money again. I found this out later, but he got his first contract by telling everyone that he knew me, that we were collaborating. Ryan bought it when he brought him on. Fake it to make it, yeah? It sort of worked. The entire tour, he was somehow spending what he didn’t have again. He wasn’t supposed to be on the plane, in the same hotels. They were scraping. His cards were getting declined toward the end.” It all made sense to Izzy, but it was still so painful for her to hear. This isn’t the truth she wanted. But it felt like something she already knew; as Harry recounted more details about his debt, Izzy remembered the comments from George’s friends at that gala at the Frick in New York. It all lined up perfectly with him going broke and his friends watching his ‘recovery’, or fake recovery. “Yeah, so it’s not because I’m jealous,” Harry concluded, “it’s because he’s an asshole. He’s a user. I know you don’t want my advice, and I might have no right to give you advice, but you shouldn’t try to contact him anymore or check in on him. Same with Lydia. I thought you should just have that information, whether or not you go any further with him.” Then, before she could say anything, Harry hung up. She scrambled to text him: we broke up that night, I’m not with George any more 

Then Izzy stopped herself. 

It felt like a no, what Harry said: whether or not you go any further with him. Like going further with George was a possibility. How could he think that? She sent the message anyway. Something she heard on TikTok popped into her mind: if he wanted to, he would. And what did Harry mean by “same with Lydia”? Again, criticizing her family. And they couldn’t even go 30 seconds without fighting! They were bickering right at the beginning of the call. And he had known Jess for far longer than she thought—almost 10 years? Izzy threw the phone against her wall, prompting Olivia to knock on her door.

“What was that? Did you open it yet?”

Izzy stood up slowly, shaking her head. Olivia walked over and picked up the envelope, reading the front with Izzy’s full name handwritten in beautiful script.

She opened the envelope, pulling out a two-page handwritten letter in cursive, with some smudges. Behind it, a stack of papers printed out on some type of old machine on thin, receipt-like paper. They read the letter from Mrs. Shepherd together:

“My dearest Elisabetta,

For your entire life, I have watched you and Lydia grow up - beautiful, free girls so very much like your grandmother. I have gone to join her and I hope you will be not too sad - I hope that when reading this you are well and thriving. This is what I want for you, to thrive, and it’s what your grandmother wanted for you to. It’s why she came here, to this country. Before she knew you, she wanted for you. She was always planning for you and thinking about you, even before you were born - even before your mother was born.

This is for you, Elisabetta. It is not for your mother: she is strong and can manage this all without what’s in this letter. I have given her something of her own to help her. This is not for the store. This is just for you and it is not for you to sell. It is for you to go see. You are more like your grandmother than you know.

The town your grandmother and I were born - it is a beautiful place, and at the time, very small, very close. She could not stay after her mistake and she was cast out, and I went with her. My best decision. I went back to visit often as you know, and your grandmother never returned. But her parents were not so bitter toward everyone. I saw them often. They kept something for me and now I give it to you, as it should have been given to you in the first place.

382 Contrada Magaro, Caltagirone, Sicily

I hope you go and find out who you really are.

All my love,

Maria Platania La Rosa Shepherd”

Izzy felt Mrs. Shepherd’s arms wrap around her, like they had when she was a little kid. 

She and Olivia looked at each other, Olivia putting her hands on Izzy’s shoulders in excitement. Izzy jangled the envelope: from inside, the sound of metal keys.

“Is it a… safety deposit box?” Olivia asked.

Izzy carefully took out the rest of the papers and turned the envelope upside down, emptying the rest of its contents into her hands: three keys, each the length of her fingers—all heavy, metal, and slightly rusted. Izzy smiled: grandparents she never knew, passing something down to a granddaughter they had never met. How beautiful. Her anger at Harry melted away. He and Jess and George weren’t her entire world. 

“I think it’s a house,” Izzy said. She heard Mrs. Shepherd’s words in her mind again: Go! Dance!

Izzy held up the keys. Another possibility of escape dangled in front of her. She could run away again, ditch the courses, ditch the new job, forget the tour, forget everything that happened. She imagined herself on a plane tomorrow morning instead of in the plant nursery, filling in her paperwork for health insurance. It was really tempting. She had the money, after all - the money from selling the clothes. That would at least get her over there. She thought about George: spending and running and spending and running. 

Izzy handed over the keys to Olivia, who was looking up the address in the letter on her phone. Izzy picked up her phone and sent yet another message to Lydia: If you need money to come home, or money to go to rehab, or to get established in your own apartment, I have it. I have no problem lending it to you. Or gifting it to you. You’ve given me so much.

As soon as she sent it, her phone rang again. Izzy put it to her ear right away.

“Harry?” Izzy asked hopefully.

Static on the other end. 

“Izzy, it’s Lydia.” Lydia’s voice sounded shaky. Izzy was ecstatic and concerned at the same time. 

“Thank you so much for calling me back,” Izzy said, “I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear your voice!” Izzy mouthed to Olivia: it’s Lydia! Olivia gave a tight smile, put the keys back in Izzy’s hand, and left the room. 

“Izzy,” Lydia said, steadying her voice. Izzy thought she heard a familiar voice in the background. “I have something to tell you.” 

chapter16

[sunnygrey99]

Lost Family Pt. 8

~Trigger Warning: Mentions of Sexual Abuse and Torture. While these themes are vaguely mentioned they are still present in this chapter. ~

Harry has been off for the last few nights. He seems to just not want to talk to you, and it's not just you who's noticed. You all are standing in the cortex after The Pod comes through for the team and helped catch two new Metas before they even finish their first attacks. Harry seems to just leave very quickly muttering about updating some of the features in The Pod. You watch him leave feeling a slight disappointment. Then you feel someone dragging you to another room.

"Alright, what happened between you and Harry?" You look at Iris confused as to what she might be talking about. "Seriously he's been avoiding you since you guys finished that pod."

You think about this for a few moments, "I honestly don't know Iris. We were getting pretty close. I even wanted to tell him about my feelings and then the last day working together he started to seem off. I tried asking him but he just brushed it off." Thinking back on the conversation you knew he was hiding something, but you don't even know how to begin fixing any of it.

Almost a year goes by before things start to become a bit more normal. Well as normal as being a fugitive hiding out in her brother's lab can be. It's sweltering out and the AC is broken again throughout the whole building this time. You started relying on minimal layers and your losest crop tops and shorts. Harry seems to also be favoring similar outfits with how hot the lab is. Jesse stopped coming around when the AC is out.

You start to notice Harry leaving a room as soon as he enters it and notices you are there. Until you corner him one night in his room. Once you enter his room you turn to lock his door before looking at him and putting your hands on your hips. "Alright then Harry, what the hell is going on?"

He looks at you surprised and in nothing but a towel. "Um...(Y/N)...Can this wait?" He gestures to his appearance.

You blushed realizing what he was wearing but you didn't want to back down and never get an answer. Knowing he would go hiding from you again. "Actually Harry it really can't. You've been avoiding me and I want to know why."

He sighs and turns away for a moment. "I was just hoping to avoid questions..."

"Bullshit. You are hiding something. You always look away from me when you are lying." You step closer to him and try getting him to face him. He looks at you and goes to say something but just closes his mouth again. You start feeling more impatient. "Harry, please. I...I miss you"

He takes a deep breath before looking at you again. "I...I really don't know how to say this. I-" He stops himself thinking for a moment before starting to close the small distance between you. His hand finds its way to your cheek, fingers slightly lacing into your hair. You look in his eyes and your breath hitches. He fully closes the distance gently pressing his lips to your own. It feels different from all the other times you'd been kissed. Those times were rough, unloving, and unfeeling. This felt like fireworks, warmth, and tasted so sweet. You didn't know what to do so you just froze.

Harry pulls back. It's too short for you. He starts muttering an apology but you pull him back into another kiss. Your arms wrapping around his neck and his finding your waist. A noise of surprise from Harry turns to a moan. The kiss goes from an excited yet gentle kiss to a deeper, hungrier kiss. Your fingers lace into his hair tugging lightly and his nails lightly dig into your hips. Harry pulls away through panting. "So I was right." He smirks at you which leaves you confused. "I uh...I overheard you a few times...calling my name..."

You instantly understand what he means and you immediately start burning up from blushing. "How long have you...have you knows?"

"At first I wasn't sure, but it didn't matter since you had already been driving me crazy with those damn outfits. A couple of weeks after that I guess you didn't realize I was here. So it's been basically since we worked on the pod-" He is starting to ramble which is unlike him but you think it's incredibly sweet.

"Harry" He doesn't stop rambling at first. "Harry" He still doesn't stop so you kiss him to make him stop. It's successful and when you pull back he seems still dazed. "I got it. It's okay, just why didn't you say anything sooner?"

He looks down momentarily after taking a step back. "I didn't want to get my hopes up. You are younger and incredibly smart, beautiful, and well...out of my league." This makes you chuckle for a moment.

"You really don't see it, do you? Just how attractive you are." You rub your neck trying to calm yourself from the events of the last few minutes. "Harry, You are basically the only person I have ever looked at and thought was attractive. Sure there are other people that are pretty or beautiful but none of them make me feel how you do." You close the distance again this time leaving a peck on his cheek before turning to head for the door. "I guess I'll let you change then I expect to see you in the kitchen to cook dinner with me." He smiles at you before nodding. You wink at him before heading to the kitchen. Once in the kitchen, you do a strange little happy dance trying to get the emotion out from how good you feel. Then you start to get distracted with thoughts of just how damn good Harry looked still slightly damp and in nothing but a towel. As much as you wanted to jump him in his room you know it was better to wait.

Many nights of catching up with Harry over breakfast and dinner lead to more intimate moments, and in so your revealing of some more of your past traumas. It's a hot night still as you lay in the lounge chairs with Harry on the balcony. It starts off as talking about Harry's past relationships and especially his late wife. Then he asks you about any of your's, "Well...I never really had any. Not like that at least. There have been times that I had to play the part of someone sexually interested in someone to gain intel but nothing that really mattered or felt real to me. There were also some not so pleasant encounters that I didn't consent to at all." It wasn't something you really processed until you were out of that horrible place. You still had a rough time talking about some of it.

Harry looked at you with concern and seemingly hidden disgust. "I'm sorry that was something you went through. None of what happened should have happened to you. If you ever need to talk about it I'll always be here to listen." You smile at him and put a hand on his.

"I appreciate it Harry. I don't think I really can right now but maybe someday soon." The look of sadness on your face shows him that you want to be fully open with him but its not possible right now. The things you had been through on that base and even under their control was evil. The torture, sexual abuse, and complete isolation took its toll on your mind and altered it forever, but you were learning how to cope with it thanks to Caitlin and her psychologist friend, Dr. Melvoy.

Nodding, he seems to take a few moments before speaking up again, "Is the sexual part of a relationship something you want? I mean I'm fine with how things are now but I also want you to be comfortable and happy."

You think on that for a moment going over your traumas mentally before weighing in how you feel about Harry. "I do. I don't need it, but it's absolutely something I think about far too often to say I don't want that with you. I mean you said it yourself you heard me having far too much fun with my own thoughts about you for it not to be something I'd want." He shifts a bit in his chair and you noticed the slight blush on his cheeks in the dim light coming from inside star labs. "How about you? Is it something you want?"

He sucks in a breath before nodding slowly. "I uh can say I've done similar things as you in the past year." He coughs a bit, obviously slightly embarrassed at the conversation which makes you smile.

"Well that's good to know. Maybe sometime you can tell me your fantasies and I can make them a reality for you." He fully blushes this time leaving you to giggle satisfied with what you can do to him. These nights are your favorites. Relaxed, flirtatious, and bringing you even closer to you're favorite scientist.

Part 9

[winterscaptain]

in line.

Aaron Hotchner x Male Reader

request from anon: Thank you for sharing your writing on here! A blurb idea, because I hardly see any male readers, is that maybe Hotch has figured out he’s attracted to men too and has a boyfriend? Someone Hotch can go home to and be taken care of by them, someone Jack trusts? Because hotch spends all his time caring for the team, his s/o really spoils him with affection and TLC. I’m really soft for that idea, and the team being real pleased he’s found someone who appreciates him again. Hope you’re doing well! a/n: i wanted to give this a little more attention than a blurb, so it turned into a Whole Thing™ words: 2790 warnings: swearing, some drinking, derek being charming, and emily prentiss: patron saint of The Gays™

i don't have a specific male!reader taglist yet, so i added all yall on my gn!reader list, so nobody would miss this! lemme know if you wanna stay on the male!reader list or not - you’ll never hurt my feelings :)

masterlist | requests closed!

Aaron came home to all the lights off save one, illuminating a little scene before him - dinner (still hot) on the coffee table, a glass of wine, and you, holding the remote ready to start a movie. 

He smiled, set his briefcase down, and slipped his shoes off. 

“Jack’s at Jess’s,” you said, before he could ask. “I thought it would be a nice surprise to spend the evening, just you and me.” 

He crossed to the couch and sat down, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. “It’s a great surprise, thank you.” You grabbed his tie and tried to pull him down on the couch, but he pried your fingers off and laughed. “Let me change and I’ll come sit with you, alright?”

You picked up your glass of wine and tipped it his direction. “I’ll be here.”

It was true. When he returned and dropped down next to you, you were waiting for him. When he was firmly settled with dinner, you started the movie. 

After a while, you asked, “Did the case go okay?”

He nodded. “We got ‘im. I had to stay and make sure the DA had a strong enough case, otherwise I would have been home yesterday.” 

You leaned into him, and he wrapped an arm around you. “I don’t mind. Jack and I went out for a bike ride yesterday and didn’t miss you at all, not even a little.” 

Aaron laughed. “Good.” 

+++

“Damn it.” 

Aaron forgot his lunch. He could see it in his mind’s eye, sitting there next to his travel mug of coffee on the kitchen island. Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, he had just resigned himself to a takeout lunch when his phone rang. 

“Hotchner.” 

“Babe, you left your lunch here,” the light amusement in your tone dissolved his sour mood, and he smiled despite himself. 

“I noticed.” 

He could hear you shuffling around in the background as you spoke. “I’ll swing by and leave it downstairs after I drop Jack at school. No more than an hour, okay?”

Aaron smiled and sat in his chair, leaning back. “What did I do to deserve you?”

You laughed. “Absolutely nothing. I’m just a sucker for charity cases.” There was a shuffle, and you heard Jack laugh. You were probably at the table, poking the kid in the ribs until he almost got sick with laughter. Before Aaron could respond again, you said, “Alright, love you, bye!” and hung up.

Aaron rolled his eyes and got to work. 

True to your word, no more than an hour later found you at the front of the Quantico Federal Building, Aaron’s lunch and coffee in your hand. You’d never seen the inside, but you knew you were on the visitors list. 

Fuck it.

You checked in, got your visitor’s badge, and made your way to the sixth floor with only a little bit of spatial confusion. You knew which bullpen was theirs immediately - you had yet to meet the team, but you’d seen pictures and heard enough stories to keep track of names and faces.

You quickly stepped through the glass doors, doing everything in your power to avoid directing too much attention to yourself. But alas, Aaron worked with profilers, and they all noticed you despite your best efforts. 

JJ’s head shot up. “Is that -”

“Hotch’s travel mug? Yeah.” Derek squinted at you as you took the stairs two at a time up to your boyfriend’s door. 

You knocked, and a crisp “Come in” sounded from inside. 

Aaron couldn’t hide his surprise when you poked your head through the door, stepping in and closing it behind you. He stood, circling the desk and leaning against it. 

Boundaries were important to him at work, you knew, so you refrained from untoward affection, stepping back to a respectable distance after you set his things next to the file on his desk. 

“How’d you get past security?” He asked, and you knew it was a joke. 

“I guess they’re letting just about anyone in, these days.” 

Aaron nodded, in facetious consternation. “Looks like it.” He broke after a moment, offering you a small smile. “Thank you. You didn’t have to come all the way out here.” 

You shrugged. “Wasn’t too hard.” 

He glanced out the blinds. The entire team averted their eyes, bumping into each other in their haste to look busy. 

You followed his gaze. “It’s okay, Aaron. Don’t feel pressured to introduce me to any of them - I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.” There was a little swoop in your stomach. 

Did I overstep?  

He sighed. “I know. You didn’t. It feels a little...ridiculous to be hiding anything from them after all this time.” He reached out, and you took his hand, still a couple of steps away. His eyes stayed on your linked hands as they swung a little between you. “I don’t mean to hide you from them.” 

You squeezed his hand with a warm, small smile. “I know.” And you did. It was big for him - explicitly and obviously coming out to his team was bound to be terrifying, and to add a new person on top of that? 

I don’t envy him. 

Meanwhile, down in the bullpen, everyone was taking turns reporting back on what was going on behind the blinds. 

“They’re holding hands, and not in a handshake way,” Emily said, covering her face with a folder as she looked up. 

JJ chanced a look. “He’s been a lot less uptight recently.”

“He’s also not coming in as early. His arrival time is, on average, about thirty-seven minutes later than five months ago.” 

Emily looked at Spencer like he’d grown another head. “You keep track of when we come in?” 

Spencer didn’t look up from his book. “Of course.” 

“I’m glad he has someone,” JJ noted lightly. “It’s good for him.”

Back up in the office, you took a step toward Aaron. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, my love.” 

He huffed a laugh and ran his thumbs over your knuckles. “Come to Dave’s the next time we all get together.” 

“Really?” Your eyebrows felt like they were going to meet your hairline they shot up so fast. 

“Yeah. They’d love to meet you.” 

Your brow furrowed, confused. “How do you know?”

He shrugged. “They’re very predictable.” 

+++

Needless to say, Aaron was right. They politely, pointedly, and casually posed questions about Hotch’s lunchtime visitor until he wasn’t able to avoid them anymore. Thus, he invited you to Dave’s the next time the team had a night off.

You were excited, but admittedly a little nervous. You were all headed to the car, Jack (very carefully) carrying the brownies you’d made that afternoon. 

He was chatting away, telling you stories you’d already heard, about JJ and Emily and Derek and Spencer and Dave and Henry and etc. etc. etc. 

You loved that kid. 

When Aaron pulled up to the house, Jack jumped out of the car and walked through the front door like he owned the place. It made you laugh. 

Aaron looked over, a fond smile on his face. “What?”

“Jack. He just -” you made a vague gesture with your hand - he just goes and goes, and Aaron laughed. 

After a moment, you two sobered. He reached for your hand, and you laced your fingers with his. 

“They’re going to love you. You know that.” 

You snorted. “I certainly don’t.”

Aaron kissed the back of your hand and covered it, so two of his hands were holding one of yours. “Are you ready?”

“Are you?”

He patted your hand twice by way of an answer, releasing you and opening his door. You followed suit, waiting for him on the sidewalk. 

When you actually looked, you realized how truly massive Dave’s house was. Aaron had told you he was well-off, with his book royalties and other savings, but the beautiful and tasteful mansion before you spoke to a bank account that had eight figures, rather than six. 

Aaron stepped forward and offered you his hand. You took it. He led you up the flagstone path and through the front door, opening it without preamble. 

The foyer was beautiful, opening to a staircase, the living room, and some kind of den or parlor off to the side. Aaron led you to the kitchen, where a statuesque woman with dark brown hair was mixing a drink. Emily. 

She turned when she heard you enter, and a wide smile broke out across her face. “Hi!” 

You dropped Aaron’s hand and offered it to her. She shook it readily, and you found yourself mirroring her smile. “Hi. Emily, right?”

She nodded, and spared a glance at Hotch. “Hotch, you know it’s polite to introduce guests.” 

He huffed in good humor and gestured pedantically as he spoke. “Emily, this is my boyfriend, Y/N. Y/N, Agent Emily Prentiss.” 

You were very impressed by his lack of hesitation over the word boyfriend, as it had been a topic of discussion in the past. 

“It’s so juvenile. I feel like I’m in high school.” Aaron chuckled, staring up at the ceiling with his hands laced behind his head. 

You rolled over onto his chest. “I can’t be your partner - you’ve already been a lawyer and I would hate to confuse people. You’re the one with a juris doctorate, not me.” You rested your chin on his pec, giving just a little more weight than was necessary. 

He dropped one of his arms, and you scooted up to fit nearly under it. “Is it at all weird to have a boyfriend in one’s forties?”

You shrugged. “I think it’s whimsical.” 

“Oh yeah, that’s me.” He laughed. “Whimsical in the extreme.” 

Emily’s voice was warm and genuine when she told you, “It’s a pleasure to meet the person who keeps him,” she jabbed her index finger at Hotch, “in line.”

You laughed, the anxiety melting little by little. “Bold of you to assume anyone can keep him in line.” 

She snorted. “Don’t I know it.”

Hotch crossed his arms over his chest. “Guys, I’m right here.” 

“And?” You and Emily answered simultaneously.

He shook his head with a smile. “C’mon. If you want to continue making fun of me, there’s plenty of ammunition out back.” 

You offered your arm to Emily, and she took it daintily. “Such a gentleman.” She looked over her shoulder as she started walking you to the back patio. “How’d you snag this one?”

“Apparently, he has a thing for charity cases,” Aaron deadpanned. 

A few pairs of eyes flickered to you when you stepped out, and Emily’s hand squeezed you reassuringly. You already loved her. 

Hotch came up to your side and grabbed your hand as Emily stepped away, stopped by two men who had to be Derek and Spencer (who needed a mediator for some inane, hair-splitting dispute they were having). 

A couple who you assumed were JJ and Will smiled at you as you approached. 

“JJ, Will, this is Y/N.” Hotch said, a little more confidence in his voice than before. 

“I’m the boyfriend,” you supplied, and JJ laughed. 

“I’m so glad you could make it!” She leaned close to you, and you dipped your head to listen. “We’ve been asking about you since you stopped by a couple of weeks ago.” 

You raised your chin in a knowing fashion as you leaned back, once again including Hotch and Will in the conversation. “Ah, I see. So there’s lore?”

“Definitely.” She pursed her lips in mock solemnity. 

You matched her facetious tone. “Don’t believe everything you hear.” 

JJ broke then, smiling at you once more. “I never make that mistake.” Just then, a little blond boy ran up to her, attaching himself to her leg. She automatically put a hand on his head and gestured to you. “Henry, can you say hello to Mr. Y/N? He’s a really special friend of Hotch’s - like Miss Savannah is to Derek.” 

“Hi.” 

You crouched to Henry’s level, offering your fist. A look of satisfaction crossed his face as you bumped fists, your hands exploding out of it (with sound effects). “It’s so nice to meet you, man. Were you playing soccer over there?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Jack’s really good but he lets me get goals.” 

“Wow.” You raised your eyebrows. “That’s really nice of him, and I bet you learn a lot, too.” 

Jack called Henry from across the yard, and he offered you one last adorable grin before sprinting off. You rose, checking in with Hotch as you did so. JJ and Will were distracted watching Henry for the moment, so they missed the awe that crossed Aaron’s face for just a moment. 

Your eyebrows pulled. What?

He shook his head. Nothing. But there was something there. Something fond and altogether content. 

You heard Emily come up behind you before you saw her, so you turned as she approached with Derek, Dave, and Spencer. 

You offered your hand first to Derek, and shot a smile to Spencer. Hotch had warned you before you left the house that Spencer didn’t shake hands. 

“Nice to meet you, man. Derek Morgan.” Morgan’s grip was firm and warm. “Emily was just telling me I owe you a thanks for reminding Hotch he has a sense of humor.” Derek’s smile ate up his whole face as he beamed at you. It very nearly stole your breath - he was stunning, and smart. The way he phrased his introduction made it unnecessary to re-introduce yourself, and you were sure that soothed whatever remained of Hotch’s anxiety. 

Hotch’s deadpan was decidedly dry. “Funny.”

That’s a good sign. 

Spencer was quiet, but there was a little smile playing at his lips. He looked just over your shoulder, and seemed to communicate with someone behind you for a moment. It was only the barest changes in expression, but you’d been around Aaron long enough to know a silent conversation when you saw one, no matter how subtle. The outcome of the conversation looked good, as Spencer stifled another smile and looked over at Hotch.

You then offered your hand to Dave, who took it in both of his. “It is so good to finally meet you.” He shot a sly smile at Hotch. “I was beginning to wonder if you were a figment of my imagination a couple weeks ago.” 

“I promise I am very real,” you said with a laugh. “It’s so great to meet all of you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“All bad I hope,” JJ chirped from over your shoulder as she approached. 

You nodded. “The worst.” 

Aaron kissed your temple as the rest laughed, and you could feel the small smile resting on his lips. He sure was smiling a lot tonight, and you couldn’t help but feel a little proud that you had a lot to do with it. 

A woman you could only assume was Penelope bounced up and swooped under Derek’s arm. “What did I miss?”

Hotch laughed (he laughed!) and introduced you. “Y/N, this is our tech analyst Penelope Garcia. Garcia, this is Y/N.”

Instead of a handshake, she just got out from under Derek’s arm and gave you a hug. You relaxed right into her. 

She let you go after a second, but kept her hands on your upper arms. “I am so glad you’re here. I’ve been hoping someone would come along and snag our fearless leader before too long.” She winked, and it warmed you. 

The rest of the evening flowed smoothly, eventually moving to the living room, and then to goodnights. Everyone wished you a warm goodbye, and Dave kissed you on both cheeks before letting you go. Jack was apparently spending the night at the Jareau-LaMontagne household, so you and Aaron were alone on the drive back. 

You relaxed into the seat as he sped along the highway, his hand locked in yours across the center console. “That was really fun.” You looked over at him, finding less tension in him than you’d ever seen before. “Your team is incredible.” 

“I know it. They’re the best at what they do.”

You kissed the back of Aaron’s hand. “I’ve heard it helps to have a great boss, or so Penelope tells me.”

He huffed a little laugh through his nose. “She is the authority on such things, as I understand it.” 

The car was quiet for a few minutes. 

“I - “ Hotch cleared his throat, but his gaze never wavered from the road. “I can’t tell you how much tonight meant to me.”

You squeezed his hand. “It was nothing.” You were lying, and he knew it, but at the end of the day, you’d do anything for him.  

He smiled, broad and genuine, and you decided then that Aaron’s joy was your favorite sight in the whole world. 

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @saintd0lce @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @vintagecaptainspidey @micaiahmoonheart @ogmilkis @thatreallyis-americas-ass @marvels-agents100 @newtslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @joemazzello-imagines @pinkdiamond1016 @sebbybaby0 @lilsiswinchester @pan-pride-12 @hotchlinebling @lee-rin-ah @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @emmice9 @nohalohoseok @giveusbackourbucky @writerxinthedark @mrshotchnerrossimulder21 @bauslut @yourlovelynewsbian @sparklingkeylimepie @aili28 @kingandrear @reader4027 @spnobsessedmemes @rogers-mouth @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @hotchnersgoddess @buckybau @phoenixfyre374 @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandi-ass-prentiss @songbird400 @dontkissthewriter @ellyhotchner @a-dorky-book-keeper @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @ahopelessromantic @violentvulgarvolatile @swiftiesparkles @andreasworlsboring101 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses

[scottfuckingreed]

It’s a Pogue Thing - Part Two

This is a JJ Maybank story :)

Requested

-

Warnings!: swearing and it gets sexual (SMUT)

-

“That’s disgusting,” Ki grunts as we watch JJ spit into an impressively far distance. Today we sailed to a small piece of island in the middle of the ocean. Between the blue sky, and the slightly green water it’s quite beautiful. Not a cloud in sight either, which is a somewhat odd thing for the Outer Banks. Some would call it peaceful, except we seem to hang around with complete animals. The JJ smirk spreads across his face. “You know you love it,” he winks. With a laugh, I sigh. “That’s even worse.”

You’d think it was awkward. I mean, how can you go from being friends, to sleeping together, back to normal again? I don’t know. Over the past week it’s been indifferent. Sure, it was a bit weird the first day. Maybe even the second. I’m still in shock that it happened. Once we cleaned up my house after the party, the ice was pretty much broken. We know where we stand with each other.

“Are you seeing Sarah today?” I ask John B. I notice Kiara roll her eyes so I flash her an ‘I’m sorry for bringing it up’ look. He clears his throat. “No... why would I be seeing Sarah today?” His tone comes off slightly defensive. I imagine it’s because Ki’s here, and he once had a thing for her? Maybe he still does. “I don’t know. Was she any help at the party?” We haven’t spoken much about the party; any of us. I, for one, am a bit relieved. “A little, but Topper started following us around,” of course. I’m not sure if she has him on a leash, or the other way around. “Still a good party though,” he nudged. If he thinks that’ll get me to throw another one, he can think again. “Thank JJ, I didn’t even wanna be there,” I laugh jokingly. “You can definitely thank me, you seemed like you had a good time in the end,” his words send shivers down my spine. I’m thankful for the concealer on my face as I feel my cheeks redden at his husky voice. “I don’t know, maybe it was the alcohol,” my head turns to his. “Maybe.”

We sail straight back to John B’s house. “You guy’s can crash here if you’d like,” he shrugs. With his dad gone, it’s a pretty empty house. I know we all fantasise about a parent-free life sometimes, but I can’t actually imagine the feeling of someone never coming home. “I’ve actually gotta go. My mum’s cooking dinner tonight... you guys hungry?” I ask. John B sends a warm smile my way. “Thanks, but I got left over pizza inside.” “Nice,” I laugh. I shift my eyes over to Kiara. “I think I’ll stay and help John B tidy up a bit.” If you visualise a teenage boy’s room, his entire house looks like that 24/7. Beer bottles, left over takeaway boxes, smelly ass clothing thrown around. “Suit yourselves.” I lock eyes with Pope, and I already know the answer. “You know my dad’ll kill me if I don’t get my ass home and check in.” A smile spreads across JJ’s face. “I’m not stupid enough to turn down mama Y/L/N’s cooking,” he chuckles.

As soon as we walk through my front door, my mum is all over JJ. She loves him. Usually the parents despise the boys like him. He’s the bad boy! But no. She still sees him as this cute, cheeky boy. “Mama Y/L/N! Long time no see,” JJ exclaims with a cute smile on his face, bringing my mum in for a hug. She squeezes him back in a tight embrace. “It’s been too long, how are you?!”

The conversation flows smoothly throughout dinner. It’s actually nice, not that I’d ever tell my mum that. She needs to think I’m embarrassed, when in reality I love that it’s so chill. “Did you guys enjoy the party the other night?” My mum asks as if it hasn’t been playing on her mind throughout the entirety of dinner. She’s asked me, but I won’t tell her anything. So, of course she asks JJ; he will answer. “Oh it was great! Y/N and I had a great time!” He smiles greatly. In a quick moment that my mum isn’t looking his way, he winks subtly at me. “Really? She hasn’t said much about it.” This is one of those moments where you wish you could send a telepathic message to someone. It would scream ‘stop before it’s too late’! “It’s probably because Rafe turned up.” There it is. I immediately just want to shrivel up and crawl away. My mum’s eyes widen. “Shit, I hate that guy.” JJ sends an agreeing nod. At least we’re all on the same page here. Like with other things, I’ve kept Rafe as much to myself as I possibly can from my mum. She knows he was nasty, but not in much detail. She knows he hurt me, but not in any specific way. In a very vague way, she knows everything she needs to. Just to hate him. “He’s a dick.” “This is why I like you JJ,” my mum pauses. Her face as she processes her possible next words. I raise my eyes brows in a warning manner.

After dinner, JJ offered to help my mum clean up. You may think it’s cute, but I know this boy’s games. He can’t fool me. “Are you staying to watch a movie JJ?” She asks, passing the boy a plate to dry. Before he can answer, I interrupt. “Can you give us a second actually, please?” I smile innocently towards her. Her eyes widen and she wiggles her eyebrows at me. “Sure.”

“What are you playing at?” I giggle. Recently, although I hate to admit it, JJ’s company has honestly been what I’m craving. Somehow a he’s so predictable, yet he surprises me every time. “I’m not doing anything Y/N, you’re reading into things.” He dries his last plate and puts the pile into a cupboard. Of course he knows exactly where they go. “You’re not staying for the movie,” I warn him. Even with my mum there, I don’t trust him. I don’t even trust myself. “What are you watching?” He asks. “I don’t know. I think my mum was on about watching ‘Now You See Me’ or something.” His face lights up. “Come on Y/N! I love that one.” I shake my head. I don’t want to want him here. “Please,” he sticks his bottom lip out. Because of my lack of reaction, he brings his head closer. He was so close that I could feel his breath on my face. A feeling that took me straight back to the party. A moment that I am trying so hard to not think about.

Unfortunately JJ has something about him. He’s painfully hard to say no to a lot of the time. So, here he is, helping bring down some blankets from upstairs. Despite the fact that our friendship should be ruined at this point. I’m starting to think that this may just be an exception. Why should it ruin everything? It was nothing. Before going back downstairs, I change into an oversized hoodie and some shorts.

My mum makes popcorn whilst we get things set up. Some soft blankets and even comfier pillows are arranged on the couch. I sit myself in the middle, with JJ on my right and my mum on my left. A part of me wanted to have my mum split us up, but that would’ve just looked strange. My eyes light up when I catch a glimpse of the popcorn bowl. “Let’s get started then.”

As the movie starts, I begin to get more excited. “I’m excited,” I smile massively. The more I think about it, the more hyped up I get. “I didn’t know this was your sort of thing,” JJ mutters with a smirk. Of course it’s a great movie, but that’s not what it is. “I watch it for the plot,” I smirk back. The plot being Dave Franco and Jesse Eisenberg. I express my love for the two beauties, only for JJ to simply state “I am so much better looking than them.” I snort at his words. “Whatever.”

20 or so minutes go by. My mum has already started nodding off, and I am beginning to get myself comfy. Without thinking, I nudge myself a bit closer to JJ. I didn’t even have to look at him to notice the growing smirk. The best thing, I thought, was to pretend I didn’t notice what I was doing. I bring my feet up, and lean them against his leg. A small noise exits JJ’s mouth, which sounded like a small chuckle. “Sorry I-” I start. My words pause at the touch of JJ’s fingertips. Even before they touched my bare thigh, I could feel their presence. “JJ,” instead of being a warning, my voice let’s put a wobbled whisper. “It’s fine,” he presses his lips together in a smile. I couldn’t tell his to move his hand away. I didn’t want him to. So I let him sandwich his hand between my thighs.

His hand, large and warm, sat nicely. It felt like an average thing. Every now and then he gently squeezed against my bare skin. Whirlpools. That’s the only way I can describe the way my stomach flipped. I thought, stupidly, that with my mum inches away it would turn everything off. Of course, that is not the case. JJ tries to be slick as he moves his hand further up my thigh. The first time, I do nothing. I’m not sure what to do. But the second, I cup my hand over his. Just as I’m about to tell him off in a whisper, my mum yawns. My heart jumps. “Shit guys, I should probably go to bed,” she stands and stretches. I try and make it look like JJ and I aren’t sitting so close. “You can stay over though JJ, finish the movie.”

My mum wanders out the room. We’re silent as we hear her footsteps all the way upstairs. Until her bedroom door shuts. “You’re not sleeping over,” I try not to smile as I say those words. The truth is, these little flirting games, send rushes through my body. Just like shockwaves. Now we’ve acted on it and I’m not sure how to resist my current urges. “Sure,” and he slides his hand up a bit higher. I grunt, accidentally making it sound slightly like a moan. Oops. That’s embarrassing. “I- uh- we-,” There’s no getting out of this one. I have no choice but to stop myself from uttering another word. I cannot even find the words to sort into a fully functioning sentence. The tension in the air was thick. So thick you would struggle to cut it with any knife; it would simply be too blunt. There were seconds of silence that just dragged on too long. As the tips of his fingers on his right hand trace along my jaw, guiding my head to turn to face him, I find myself lusting for him. “Give in to me Y/N.” Some things are just too hard to resist. Especially when it’s purely sexual. It’s as if my silence screamed for him to continue. Maybe it was radiating through my body. Even if I did speak, I couldn’t hear myself. The only noise was the dangerously loud thumping of my heart as his fingers continued on the trail. My heat was throbbing. He isn’t even doing anything. At this point, probably doesn’t need to. Am I wrong if I just let him? It feels that if I give in, I’m not only betraying the other Pogues, but maybe even myself. This was the deal. Then again, a promise that I made years ago. I was younger then. I’ve changed since then. I don’t care about that shit anymore.

That’s it. I start leaning in. To feel my lips against his, and finally give in to him. Then...

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He grunts, rolling his eyes back into his head as his phone goes off. Facetime. My body leans back in a mix of defeat and relief. I rub my eyes and my face, and hear the sound of JJ answering. “What’s up?” I pretend to shuffle up to JJ, although our legs were still touching anyway. “You’re interrupting-” “The movie,” I rush, feeling the need to cut JJ’s sentence off. “So you don’t wanna come over?” Ki erupts from the background. With a piece of pizza in each of their hands, I realize I do. Being with them, and their cock-blocking asses sounds perfect. A glace comes from the boy next to me. His eyes screamed no. Every part of my body agreed with him. My brain, however, disagreed. “Sure.” His eyes widen. Another eye roll. “We’ll be there in 30.” And he hangs up.

“Why do we need 30 minutes?” I laugh, standing up and gently folding the blanket poorly. I turn down the tv before turning it off. Like a child, I notice JJ with a rather grumpy look on his face. “Come on, you’re not that upset are you?” I ask, trying to hold in my laughter. “I’m pretty pissed Y/N I’m not gonna lie,” he says with a half smile creeping. “We still have time... 30 minutes to be exact...” His hand reaches over to my arm. His soft fingertips slide from my elbow, down to my hand. With that comes a pull. I land perfectly on his lap. A leg either side of his. I try and contain my thoughts. I cannot control my hands as they sit on his face. It’s hard to keep my head straight when JJ’s hands run up and down my thighs. All I can think about is the thin clothing between our crotches. So little, yet way too much. I close my eyes for a second. Just to absorb the sensation. Then it’s time for reality. “Not now.” I whisper. A heavy breath leaves him. “Fine, but you owe me.” As much as I’d love to deny it, it’s promise I’m more than willing to keep. I pull my head away from his, presenting my pinky finger to him. A smile, isn’t cute to me at all, gleams; it radiates. So much so that its contagious. Our pinky’s lock. “Yeah?” The blend of his smile and tone screams extreme excitement. “Cross my heart Maybank.”

John B’s house was now clean. I don’t think I’ve seen for the floor for months. Although I don’t blame him for the way he’s lived for the past few months, It was beginning to get a bit much. He very persistent. I know he’s still waiting for his father to come home. That being said, Kiara clearly was the one who cleaned. “Wow, the shitty smell has faded,” I hit JJ as those words fall from his mouth. That boy has zero filter. “It looks great, I’d love to know how much you helped though Johnny,” I assure him with a smirk, nudging John B on the shoulder. 

“So, what are we doing?” I ask. As soon as the words left my mouth, I realised that I probably didn’t want to know. John B says nothing, just simply forced a smile. Jesus Christ. Instead I look at Kiara. “He said Sarah’s information gave a lead. He wants us to follow it.” I look down at my outfit. I still have my fucking nightwear on. I should’ve known. I’m the stupid one here. Damn. I actually thought we would maybe just sleep for once. 

With John B in the drivers seat and Kiara in the passenger, it left Pope, JJ and I in the back. I found myself staring at the stars flying past as we drove. The Outer Banks is a totally different place at night. It’s beautiful. It’s also scarier and creepier, but we cross those bridges when we get to them. “Hey,” JJ nudges me gently with a whisper. “You alright?” I nod slowly. I wouldn’t say this to John B, but honestly it’s worrying. This whole thing has become an obsession. I know it’s his dad, and I know he misses him like crazy, but is there really a chance he’s alive? And why has this whole thing been so mysterious and chaotic? “What’s up with you two?” It’s only when I hear Pope’s voice that I remember that we’re back as a group right now. “Are you feeling left out?” Is JJ’s response. I try and keep my smile contained. He just has this tone, and facial expression, where you can’t take him seriously. “I didn’t know you felt that wa-” 

“What the fuck John B?” Kiara snaps in an angry mumble. Before the van even stops Ki opens the door and hops out. We haven’t been driving for long, so we can’t be far. Kiara, with an extremely miserable face, hops into the back with the rest of us. I go to ask, but I see Sarah Cameron climb into the front passenger seat. What is this boy playing at? “Oh shit,” I whisper in JJ’s direction. A slight chuckle comes out, purely amazed at the balls on this boy. “Hi guy’s!” Sarah smiles enthusiastically. I feel somewhat obligated to respond. As I’ve mentioned previously, I’ve never had a massive problem with her. “Hey Sarah.” I feel bad for both sides. John B shouldn’t put Kiara into these situations as he knows she doesn’t like her. Then again, I think Ki needs to not be so rude sometimes. Right now, that’s not going to happen. Might as well just enjoy the awkward car journey. 

Sarah and John B giggle away in the front as if they have been life long friends. The rest of us, not including Kiara, sent awkward eyes each other’s ways. Ki sulked silently. So I go back to staring outside. It’s hard not to imagine what it would be like to be free. The Outer Banks area is all I know. My family may ‘have money’, but our trips have always been within an hour’s drive. There’s a world beyond this. There is so much more to see and explore. Maybe that’s why we’re all so hung up on these mini impossible adventures. We’re craving something more.

John B’s plan, he said, was simple. A clue has led us to an area of green. “There has to be something here. We’re close. I can feel it,” his words sound hopeful, despite the wobbly tone to his voice. “Can’t we do this in the morning? We’re not going to find anything in the pitch black,” Pope was right. But John’s desperate. I would be too. “We’ll just have a quick look around,” he promises. He wanders to the back of the van, and takes out some torches. “I think we should split up into three pairs,” when Sarah speaks, I can automatically feel the rage coming off of Kiara. With an excessive eye roll, she might as well have just said something. Everyone else must’ve seen it, but it get’s ignored. Probably best not to fight in the darkness, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees. I send a quick smile Sarah’s way. “Okay. So... I’ll go with Sarah. You and JJ, and Kiara and Pope.” 

“Don’t look so smug,” I warn the smirking JJ as we separate from the others in our direction. It’s pretty typical for us to be paired, but we also do make the best team. With a torch, I look around as if I know what I’m looking for. “This is going to be impossible,” I grunt already in defeat. I really want to help John B, but I don’t even think he’s helping himself at this point. How long is this going to go on for? “Do you think he’s alive?” JJ asks in a whisper. It’s a question, I think, we’ve all been too afraid to ask. John’s answer is simple. We wouldn’t be searching for clues in the middle of the night if he didn’t. I hesitate. As I shake my head, my heart breaks a little. I wish I did. It would make things a little easier. “Me neither.”

Although being surrounded by trees at night is usually the scene of a horror movie, it’s rather beautiful. Scary, but beautiful. Around 15 minutes has passed since we split from the others and no one has found anything; I assume anyway. There is zero service on our phones, so really we have no idea, but my gut is telling me that there’s nothing to find. “I spy with my little eye, something beginning with G,” I smile. For about 5 minutes, we’ve been playing I-Spy. Perhaps at the hope of us ‘spying’ something we usually wouldn’t spot. Unfortunately, that has not been the case. I’ve been the one annoyingly asking, and he’s just been playing along to humor me. “I swear to god Y/N if it’s grass...” He warns. Like I said, we’ve seen nothing but the wilderness. “My turn.” 

As someone who pretty much refused to play, I was interested to see what better he could do. There’s nothing to see. “I spy something beginning Y.” Okay. I immediately start looking around, into the darkness. This is only I-Spy, but I need to win. JJ is one cocky mother fucker. I turn to him and frown. “Y? You know you have to actually be able to see this thing right?” I finish my sentence. Two hands go to my waist, guiding me backwards. “It was “You up against a tree, naked.” And I was. Well, I was pressed against the tree. My heartbeat went from a normal pace, to almost having a sudden heart attack in seconds. I open my mouth to speak, but no words seem to come. What is wrong with me? “I make you speechless,” he leans down to my ear and whispers. I still say nothing. As I finally feel words ready to be released, I get interrupted. And no, not by JJ. 

We walk back to the van in silence. Trying to hold everything in, I restrain my need to smile and let out a giggle. I’m thankful to see the others. “How did the searching go?” John B asks as we finally become a group again. “We didn’t find anything,” A big part of me wished we would’ve found something. Not that me and JJ were properly looking, but it would’ve been nice to come back with some hope. “I’m sorry guys. We should’ve waited until the morning to look around,” Unsure if anyone else saw what I did, I glance around. Sarah - only for a second - nudged her hand against him. I can’t help but find it cute. 

Once we dropped Sarah and Pope home, we all went back to John B’s as planned. “You two can take the bed,” he, the gentleman he is, gestures towards the bedroom. John B’s dad’s room is locked. “I don’t mind sleeping-” “Just take the bed,” his voice, which was quite assertive, was joined by a smile. Without even thinking, I wrap my arms around John. “We will find something,” I assure him. He need to believe it, whether I do or not. I kiss him on the cheek. “I love you John.” In true JJ fashion, he joins in on the hug. “Wow I love you guy’s too.” “Hey! I wanna join,” I chuckle as Kiara swerves herself into the huddle. “Okay, that’s enough!”

So I lay there; just staring at the ceiling. Kiara is already asleep. I’m jealous. I’ve tried. It’s hard to sleep with all these thoughts going through my head. There’s too much going on. 

‘Are you awake?’ I text JJ. Within seconds I get a reply.

‘Do you need some company ;)’ I roll my eyes, more at the fact that he knows I do. 

‘You gotta get your mind out the gutter ;)’

My stomach turns at the response. I read it over and over, just to get it to stick. The picture those words paint in my head should be illegal. Words like that should be a crime. I’ll just read it once more.

‘I’d rather have my head between your legs’.

How does he expect me to sleep after that? I try and keep my eyes closed, but the only way they do is if I squeeze them shut. I hear quiet footsteps. When I let my eyes go, I see JJ tip-toeing into the bedroom.  My body sits itself up. “What are you doing?” I ask with haste. His face becomes clearer as he gets closer. “Didn’t you get my text?” He smirks, making my stomach flip just like a gymnast on a trampoline. I refuse stay speechless like earlier. He does not have this affect on me or my body. “Yeah but-” “It’ll help you sleep,” He shrugs, lifting the blanket slightly. “JJ.” I whisper, stopping as soon as an index finger starts trailing up my leg. I want to resist. I’m sure I can. It would be so much easier if I actually wanted to. He gets closer to the top of my thigh. I start asking myself, what if I just let it happen? Just one more time? It can’t hurt. “Y/N.” I was so caught up in my thoughts, I didn’t notice how close JJ’s head was to mine. When our eyes locked, I knew; I knew there was only one way this was going to go. 

I pull his lips down onto mine. I hate admit it, but the main thing that came to mind was ‘finally’. JJ doesn’t hesitate to start lining kisses from my lips down to my neck. Forgetting where I am, more importantly forgetting the fact that Kiara was inches away, I let out a slight moan. I immediately cover my lips. He lets out a deep but quiet laugh. “Shit,” I feel my cheeks begin to redden, and I’m instantly thankful for it being dark. “I have that affect on people,” shaking my head, I push him gently. “Yeah yeah.”

I hardly realized at first, but I was pushing his head lower. If I’m being honest, I was getting desperate now. I need him. Now. The tips of his fingers hook around the outsides of my shorts, smoothly down my thighs in the process. He didn’t hesitate removing my underwear quickly after, placing it next to the bed on the floor. 

A soft kiss gets placed on the inside of my thigh. I was already wet. Possibly the worst thing would be for him to know that he now has this hold over my body. A temporary hold. It won’t last. Another kiss, closer to my heat now. I wished to shout at him. He’s a teasing asshole. One more, the last one, gently exactly where I desired him. “Fuck,” he whispers, so attractively. His hand grips both of my thighs, pulling me closer to him. He attaches his lips to my throbbing heat. A deep breath exits my mouth. My hand goes straight to his hair, scrunching my fingers and pulling. Every fiber of my being wanted to moan. The pleasure shooting through my body was immense. As his tongue swirls with skill, he sends my body into a growing frenzy. Perhaps it’s the build up. Whatever it is, it feels amazing. His tongue starts concentrating mainly on my clit. Between every suck, every nibble, my stomach started building a tight knot already. My thighs clamp around his head, which he opens back up without interrupting his work. If I’d have known how good he was at this, maybe I would’ve given in a little sooner. “Oh my,” I whisper as quietly as I can. My breaths were loud enough. His arms hook a tighter hold on my thighs to keep my in place, as my body moving uncontrollably. I was so close. I knew he could feel it too. The knot begins to tighten, excitement growing more and more. And I let go, bringing a release that - although was only growing for a day - was much needed. I press my mouth against my arm to contain the majority of my moan. He gracefully lets me ride out my high, until I’m even more of a heavy-breathing mess beneath him. 

He unhooks himself. I can’t help but smile massively at him as his face comes into view. “Don’t,” I stop his words with a whisper. His eyebrows raise. I do wish he wouldn’t always have that fuckboy smile on his face. “Go back to the couch,” I nudge him on the shoulder. As quietly as he can, he gets up off the bed. He comes close to my ear once more. “Bet you can sleep now.” 

And I did.

Tag list:

@nevinna

If you are interested, here’s the link to Part Three :)

[backtothestart02]

Kissed On Impulse - 1/1? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Inspired by a 2x19 gif of Iris patching Barry up. Let me know if you want more. If not this’ll stay as a one-shot w/ the reader making up their own ending as to how things could get resolved. Enjoy!

...

Synopsis:  2x19 - Canon Divergent - Patching Barry up does something to Iris' insides.

...

Iris smoothed the bandage out on Barry’s torso and tried very hard to remember to breathe.

It was hard being this close to him, and actually touching him like this too. Usually there was a couple feet of space between them, but with Caitlin gone she was there to play nurse. No one better really, she was his best friend. If he’d still been with Patty, it would be different. If Caitlin was still here, it would be different. If Caitlin hadn’t looked her in the eye and basically forced her to confess she was into Barry, things would be different.

But they weren’t.

She’d been trying to focus on the problems at hand – Caitlin kidnapped by Zoom, Zoom about to make his next strike on Central City at any time, and Barry powerless due to his giving up his powers to the speed-obsessed maniac in exchange for her brother’s life.

Those were all huge issues, and they were easy to focus on. Even more importantly was being there for Barry as a friend.

But at moments like these, it was just hard to focus on any of those things. Instead she focused on how close they were, what his abs felt like beneath that bandage, how deep of a green his eyes were when she had the chance to look, and how she’d never felt butterflies quite this intense since…well, she couldn’t even remember how long it had been. Maybe ever.

And Barry was watching her put the bandage on too. Talk about pressure. What if it came off and she was forced to look at his muscles again? The aggravation.

So when she finally finished securing that bandage, and there was no real reason to keep touching him, she released him, and he started pulling his shirts back down so his skin was out of sight.

That should’ve helped, but it didn’t.

Instead, when he got up off the bed and started to move faster, she collided with him as she stood up simultaneously, grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and pulled his face down to hers so she could kiss him.

He seemed startled at first, and she thought she heard him squeak, as well as heard the others gasp in the cortex just beyond the med bay. But that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that when the squeak subsided, Barry kissed her back.

And not just once, repeatedly. In fact, it took her sticking her tongue into his mouth for him to get a hold of reality and pull back, panting.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Iris.” He swallowed hard, searching her eyes for an answer – anything.

“Yeah?” she asked, licking her lips, her eyes glued to his.

Look into his eyes, damn it. But that was dangerous too.

“What – what are you doing?” And that made her take a step back. “We, I mean,” he said, hurriedly.

“You’re making out…is what you’re doing,” Cisco said from the cortex.

They both froze and looked over at Cisco, Joe, and Jesse all watching them with various stages of amusement on their faces.

“Jesse, uh…why don’t you repeat what you were saying about our aging meta. I think Mr. Flash and his quick fix over here might’ve missed it.”

Barry wrapped his hand around the back of his head, and Iris cleared her throat. Not wanting the moment to be over, but not really having a choice, she powerwalked out of the med bay and into the cortex as Jesse re-explained what was going on with the meta and the potential plan there was in taking him down and rescuing Harry in the process.

They both listened as attentively as they could, but when the plan ended in Joe, Cisco, and Jesse all having to leave, they found themselves alone again. Only now, Barry had sunken back into his depression of how he was supposed to function as a hero without his powers, and Iris knew it was no longer the time to discuss how she’d suddenly kissed him out of nowhere and he’d kissed back.

“So…Barry.”

“What was that, Iris?”

Then again, maybe she was wrong.

“Wanna do it again?” she asked, hopefully, only half-jokingly.

Barry laughed, actually laughed. She couldn’t remember the last time that had happened, and she felt proud of herself for being the cause of it.

“Yeah, actually.” He turned to look at her. “But we should probably talk about it first.”

“Right.” She slipped her hands into her pockets and rocked on her heels.

“Do you…like me?”

She bit her bottom lip.

“More than like, actually.”

His eyes widened, and he exhaled.

“Wow. Really?” She nodded. “For how long.”

“A while. I just…with Eddie and everything, I felt guilty for having feelings.”

“And now you don’t?” he asked carefully.

She shrugged and sighed.

“They’re kind of overwhelming.”

He nodded. “I know the feeling.”

“Do you…still?” she asked.

“I mean, I kissed you back, didn’t I?”

“You also pulled away.”

“You stuck your tongue down my throat!”

“You don’t like that, I take it.”

“No! Yes! I mean… I do.” He took a breath. “I really do. I just…wasn’t expecting it. I needed a conversation. With everything that’s been going on recently, this was the last thing I expected to happen after getting beat up by a meta.”

She winced. “Sorry.”

“No! God, no, don’t apologize. I liked it. I liked it a lot. And I do want to do it again. Just…now is just a-”

“Bad time,” she finished.

“Yeah.”

“I understand. No more kissing, and especially no tongue action, until you have your powers back and Caitlin’s back and Zoom’s defeated and-”

“Seems like a lot to wait for, doesn’t it?” His brows fused together.

“Yeah.” She laughed. “And I mean I’ve been waiting to kiss you for so long, I-”

“Oh, screw it.”

He closed the distance between them, sunk his fingers into her hair, and kissed her hard on the mouth. This time he was the one to stick his tongue down her throat, and she eagerly reciprocated. It wasn’t long until they were pressed up against one of the computers, messing up each other’s hair, and feeling like they had way too many clothes on.

Iris was the one to break the kiss this time.

“W-wait.” She licked her lips. “This is fast, I think. I mean, right?”

Barry was silent.

“Right?” she asked again.

“Right. Right! Totally.” He took a step back from her. “I mean, what are we thinking? We just have sex while everyone is busy, and then-”

She pursed her lips, staring at his, and then he took her hand and pulled her down the hallway until they ran smack dab into Cisco and Jesse.

“Hello!”

“Wow, hi.”

“Hey.”

“Were you two…going somewhere?” Cisco looked between them.

“What? No, that’s…” Barry looked at Iris’ hungry eyes and immediately dropped his grasp on her hand. “That’s…silly.”

“They were gonna do it,” Jesse informed Cisco.

“Uh-huh.”

Iris sputtered a giant laugh.

“We were not gonna do it. That’s…that’s ridiculous. So soon? And here? Of all places? What?”

Barry shook his head at her to stop while she was ahead.

“Uh-huh. Right.”

“Well,” Cisco said, “You two will just have to go at it like rabbits when all this is over.”

Barry and Iris avoided eye contact.

“I have a plan.”

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Oh, Sweet Jane... (Favored Ones, Part 31.)

Series description: Many things were surely fucked up in the year 2038, but no-one ever told anyone how all of it went down. What happened before a group of people left for Seattle to handle personal matters? Why did one girl refuse to leave all of it be? And why there were so many dead in the end?

Quote for the chapter: "Take me home - to the place I belong." - John Denver

Part summary: Seattle was seemingly over as you all tried to get back to a normal, day-to-day life again. But some things couldn’t be fixed anymore.

A/N: So... It’s here. This is the time I’m going to say goodbye. 

Warnings: Depiction of torture, bone breaking, depiciton of blood and manslaughter, anxiety, rage, anger

Word count: 3 K

Tagging:   @nemodoren @xxgoldenhour @missdictatorme @davnwillcome @pickleriiick @jodiereedus22 @gladiosamicitias @tamkashi @eternallyvenus @avengerssstuff @fangirl-inthe-us @avery-miller @mikah-writes @mad-hatter-98 @sadiaafrin99 @flavorishy @gabymiller

Series master list: H E R E

Joel Miller’s playlist for the bonfire occasions: H E R E

Youtube playlists: JACKSON DAYS | SEATTLE DAYS

Some time after the Seattle incident, unspecified location:

You knew the others will notice soon. You were gone for quite some time at that point, out of the radar, just you alone in the basement. The only light was coming from the lit-up candles - while you were shying away on an old sofa nearby, smoothing the instrument in your hands. You haven't played in such a long time... Could you still remember how to play guitar? Could you hold the chords, let your other arm play the rhythm? Jesus... It all felt so far away from the place you've been at the moment.

For a second, you smoothed the wood of which was the guitar made of, gently plucking the strings. The first signs of a melody came out effortlessly, having you smile at the sound. With that, you frowned and put your fingers so you could try the basic chords. It could be felt on your wrist that you haven't practiced for a fair amount of time - the bones were on fire when you kept on moving your hand. But the good news were that you still got the grip on playing the guitar. Slowly, you exhaled and prepared yourself to play one of the cheesy country love songs Joel once taught you. When you were sure that you can keep the melody, you started to sing the words - slowly remembering all of the small things about the song Joel had shown you. Your smile grew.

He'd be so happy if he could see you play and sing - if he'd be there. You hadn't done any of that in years, yet when you got out of the bed, you disappeared in the basement and hadn't come out the whole day. Sometimes, all you needed was to be alone. You still could see Abby covered in blood Lev's sobs filled your ears. On those days, you were nowhere to be found for a big portion of the morning - at least until you calmed yourself down. Then, when your head cleared up once again, you were good to do stuff.

Truth be told, you haven't thought about playing the guitar for a long time. Right, you were quite busy the last few years, but how long could it be since Seattle happened..? Four years? Five years? Jesus, you hadn't any idea, to be honest. JJ was such a big boy now... It was quite some time since all that massacring and terror which still haunted you inside. Sometimes, you woke up in the deep night, paralyzed and crying. You'd sweat that at these moments, Abby was kneeling on you, holding a fucking knife to your throat. It was strange for you to still have Seattle and Baldwin all mixed up after all the things that happened in the meanwhile, yet there you were, still seeing each of them in your dreams. Maybe you couldn't name the Hispanic man or the headphones girl, but you still saw their faces.

First months after Seattle were the most crucial. You were waking up alone in the middle of the nightmares that haunted you, panting and crying. Your body was tensing on its own. Sometimes the huge scar on your thigh was hurting. Your heart raced at those moments, your mouth was dry. Countless times, you've ended up on the toilette, puking as you cried. Ellie once came to you after midnight, looking similar to you. There were dark circles under her puffy eyes, she was crying. That night, you both made yourself a cup of coffee, listening to Ecstasy with your eyes closed. Before the shock from the experience passed away, you couldn't sleep for shit. You were sincerely happy when the whole disgust and terror slowly settled down inside of you, letting you sleep for at least six hours in a row. That was all you wanted and needed.

As you thought about Seattle once in a while again, a child's voice made you almost freak out as they spoke. - "I've found you! I heard the music!" - A small, black-haired boy was hugging the railings of the stairs leading to the basement with his small palms as he was crouching there, looking at you. You must've got lost for a minute there - letting your body play and sing while you thought about other stuff. Nervously, you stopped playing and put the guitar away into its cover, making sure it's on its place.

"You sure did found me." - A chuckle came out of you as you blew out the candles, walking the stairs up to the boy. Now the only light was coming out from the opened up door. - "You know this ain't no place for you or your brother, come on." - You mumbled, waiting for him to stand up and walk the stairs up. When you closed the door, you immediately locked it too, pushing the key into your back pocket. - "Are you hungry? Huh?" - You offered the boy your hand, leading him into the kitchen. The kid furrowed and shook its head. - "Not even for a piece of cake? I highly doubt that you had some lunch." - The guilty face of the boy told you everything you needed to know. He hadn't seen a piece of food the whole day, just as you suspected.

"Are you mad at me, mommy?" - His quiet voice asked. For a moment, you smiled unbelievably as you kissed the boy's forehead. Then you smoothed his small cheek and shook your head. Normally, you'd be grumpy about everyone in the household being incapable of having lunch. They've been probably too busy with doing something else; this was pretty normal - once you were off the radar, the boys forgot to eat something.

"We'll call this day a lazy one, how does that sound, buddy? It was a weird one nonetheless." - You asked and kissed the boy's forehead again as you helped him climb on the countertop, which you also normally did only when you were cooking, so both the boys would know how not to starve. - "I didn't know you can play as aunt Ellie can, mommy." - The boy wondered as you pulled the cake out of the oven, putting it next to the boy. You didn't answer him, just smiled into the distance.

You didn't play a lot anymore. If was too reminiscent of the time you've spent in the hellhole and honestly, you didn't have the nerves to keep up with it. - "Will you play something for us?" - Henry persisted on the topic of guitar, not letting you take a breath. With a stiffened smile, you smoothed his hair, but you didn't answer his question - again.

"Hold the fortress, I'll go for the rest, deal?" - You asked silently as you already walked to the terrace, leaving Henry sitting on the countertop next to the cake. Just as you suspected, the rest of the boys was sitting there with their noses stuck in other wooden carvings. For a moment, you watched them before you coughed to make them realize they were being watched the whole time.

"Oh. Hey." - Joel leaned his back into the chair while Aiden, the other twin, just smiled at you and then turned his head back to the animal he was working on. - "We didn't want to interrupt you, so we decided to... Eh... Practice." - The man explained to you - but Henry, the hyperactive kid he was, wasn't able to sit in one place, running away in the middle of... Whatever his piece of wood was meant to represent and finding you inside the basement. Aiden, on the other hand, was able to spend hours sitting down, working on these small figurines. He loved this - this was probably one of the biggest connections Aiden had with his dad. But both your boys were awesome.

It went all downhill when you got back from Seattle. On your way out you buried Jesse and had a small ceremony for the boy. After that, you left the city once and for all. Dina was pregnant and needed medical attention. Tommy, at first, seemed to be cool with how the things played out in the end. Yet soon enough after you arrived back, it became apparent how fucked up that man was. Something, that happened in the city, went hand in hand the last branch of sanity inside Tommy's brain breaking into small pieces. Ellie and Dina decided to leave Jackson for the wellbeing of their family, now living just an hour on the horseback from the city. Yet on top of that, you realized rather soon how fucked up you were - sure, you knew that the pills Maria was giving you won't last until the end of the trip, but being pregnant, that was a whole new thing. Until you came to terms with the news, you were arguing with both Miller brothers, eventually setting down everything with Joel.

But Tommy? Where to start when talking about Tommy? He wasn't able to resolve the inner conflict no matter what. And as could be predicted, he blamed you and Joel for letting Abby go. Sometimes, when he was really in the mood, he tried to play this little pissing contest with Ellie. But as more time passed by, you were glad for what you've done even more than before. Mel and the baby needed someone to look after them - Dina would be fucked up without you just as Mel would be fucked up without them. And to be honest, there were even times when you wondered where are they now. If they're even alive at that point in time. At the same time, you knew you won't even get an answer to that question. Yet Tommy was obsessed with finding her since you were 'an incapable whore who let all of it slip between her fingers'.

That was what he yelled at you last week, the last time he was visiting you. And after that... You hadn't seen him. It was mainly because you walked him out of the house with a shotgun barrel pointing at the back of his head, yeah, but he had left Jackson later the very day on which you had the fight. Why would he stay? He and Maria were arguing all the time, she kicked him out multiple times and he called each of you some nasty names. The man didn't spare any of you - not even his older brother. Tommy didn't have a place in Jackson anymore, so he went after Abby.

Last, you heard about the man that he went to see Ellie that day, trying to get her down for the plan when he didn't succeed with you or at least Joel, but they told him basically the same thing. Now that you found some safe space you wanted to protect at any cost - and on top of that, you all had kids. There was no fucking way in hell you'd change that for a hunt on a person whom you already forgave. And most likely, Ellie felt the same way you did - if she wasn't, Dina was doing a hell of a good job keeping Ellie in one place.

"We'll be having some cake, so get your lovely bottom into the dining hall." - You whispered, reminding your son to clean those nasty hands before getting to the table. But Joel knew you wanted to talk to him before pretending that everything's a-ok again. - "Any news on Tommy? Sightings? Notes? Anything?" - Quietly, you went through the various pieces of art they had on the table, smiling at each one of them. Joel was making another horse as it seemed, while Aiden created something similar to a squirrel, you assumed.

"No, I hadn't heard about him since last week... But listen. He's gonna be 'kay. I know my brother." - The man took his glassed down. The smile on his face was unhappy, strange, and almost painful. There was no wonder about that. - "I'm just sad that I walked him out with a shotgun in my hands. I wish for Tommy just... You know... He could talk to us." - "Don't be crazy, Millers don't work like that." - Joel joked around with you, but it was partially serious as the man kissed your knuckles, sighing deeply.

Once, Joel fucked up the family relationships with his brother. And for more than ten years, it was bugging him off on the back of his head. Slowly, through patience and a lot of awkward moments, they somehow repaired the broken relationship - just like Joel did with Ellie. They now had a relationship which was not based on lies, but on truth. Yet since they started to be brothers again, Joel and Tommy, the man knew it didn't feel like Tommy to just... Drop off the radar just like that, without letting anyone know where he's going. Especially after getting crazier each passing day. Joel hoped that his baby brother can take care of himself. He hoped Tommy's safe.

"Did you hear the news already? About the Fireflies?" - You asked quietly, yawning for a bit. The man knew how crazy your nights could get after Seattle - there was even a time when neither of you could do the whole relationship thing, when you just closed off inside your home, trying to find the balance inside you. So instead of discussing the news, Joel hugged your thighs and smoothed your lower back while his head rested on your belly. - "You've had another one of these dreams, huh?" - Joel asked quietly, humming at the feeling of your fingers between his hair. There was nothing that you could say to Joel. He already heard every single one of them and given they were playing in your head on a constant loop, it was rare to actually have any nightmare. - "Wanna talk 'bout that, girl?" - He asked, but you were already stepping aside so you could feed the hungry small animals you had in your kitchen.

The boys, surprisingly, didn't eat the cake already. While Henry was still sitting on the countertop, Aiden was toying around with the gramophone in the living room. This boy of yours was interested in music and when there was free time, Joel and the boys were working on their own guitars. The old-timer already knew how to make one, since he finished yours in the summer after Seattle happened. Once the boys would get older, he planned on learning them how to play. So it was normal to see the boy toying around with the pieces of vinyl and the gramophone. - "Can I play some music, please?" - The boy asked after some time of pretending that he was reading the names of the songs. - "Of course, play us something." - You agreed while you let Henry slice the cake, making sure that the kid won't cut his fingers.

Just when Joel, dressed up only in a grey t-shirt this time, was about to sit down to the table, Aiden went to tug on his arm, leading him to the gramophone to get some help with the reading. And soon, you realized why. You had this one song you liked probably the most from your collection - it was given to you from Ellie and Dina last Christmas. And it met a lot to Ellie since according to her words, it was the first song she ever kissed someone she loved to.

The girl never talked about Riley that much, but both you and Dina knew that before the Jackson love escapades Ellie went through, there was another girl. And this was their song. Now, she was giving it to you because Dina and she found themselves a new album to listen to. - "Guys, you always know how to make me dance." - You commented with a small smile, hearing the first trumpets of Etta James' song. And to prove the point, you wiggled your bottom to the rhythm from preparing some coffee and tea. This made both the boys giggle. Henry, being as active as always, went to jump off from the countertop and almost killing himself in the process as he followed his brother to dance around the living room. Joel, when he assumed the two small guys were doing okay, stepped behind you and watched your hands preparing the drinks.

"I might never be okay, you know that? But I'm trying for you and these guys." - You asked suddenly, stopping everything you were doing at the moment just to look at him. There were still problems inside your head, as proven earlier that day. It wasn't any kind of PTSD exactly, but yes, the things you've done were about to haunt you. And the older Joel became, the more he seemed to think about the things he had done, and honestly, he was doing all he could for the community.  Yet just as Etta was singing, the man smiled at you, pecking your cheek to see you grin. - "But I got you, babe." - The man answered and for a moment, you leaned your temple to his shoulder while watching the boys dancing around.

And yeah, you had each other no matter what. There were moments when you had disconnected, sure, but you always tried to find the way back. The kids were making you stay in the reality - and when there was something that tried to drag you down, it was them who made you get your shit together rather quickly. People from Jackson liked you in one way or another, it was a safe space for you.

As for what happened to Mel, Abby, Tommy, or Lev... You never got to know. And maybe, it was for the better. Maybe, after all, it was all worth it in the end.

FIN

Author's last notes regarding the story: It was hard to end this one, it was fairly tricky. And I'm not talking about this chapter. I'm talking about the chapters before it. The characters were going through... Not even a rollercoaster of emotions, but through a repeating cycle of knowing that they're doing something very bad, but they needed to prove themselves they're in the right.

To be honest, this reasoning that needed to be done often ended up in kind of a loop that was exhausting for me to write and it mustve been very hard for you to navigate through it. And I realize that. I am so glad that I'm finished with this since the whole story made me feel uneasy at times, especially when I look over at the Seattle chapters. It's ended like this because it gives you an idea of what the characters are up to after the story ends, but it's vague enough to leave you in the dark and to let your imagination work on how you want the story to end.

Thank you for sticking around with me, I will be looking forward to seeing you in another of my fics. Bye.

[kateyandthecloset]

Paris Sunsets and DC Nights . emily prentiss . 1

Emily Prentiss X Reader

Warnings: none.

After receiving the call from JJ, Emily knows she needs to go back to her team. But something makes leaving Paris more difficult for the agents than they could have ever expected.

From the moment she received the call from DC, Emily knew that she had to tell you the truth. She would be leaving within hours and couldn't leave you with only a phone call or note left pinned to refrigerator; you deserved a clear explanation not a fleeting goodbye. With everything that happened between you both, she knew that lying was not an option at all. For you, she had to be honest. For you, she had to share every detail of her life, no matter how unimportant it was to the context of her move to Paris.

Immediately after she had finished the phone call to JJ, she had text you. Her words hadn't made much sense to you at the time, the lexicon being different from what she had always used before. To you, she had always spoken so eloquently, as if each work had been specifically chosen. That was why you had left your desk the moment you received the message, arguing the excessive over time you had done since the beginning of the month.

She hadn't told you where to meet her, but you knew. People stared as you ran through the streets, the sun still blaring the way it had been for the last three weeks of the heat wave. The two of you had been planning a get together with your friends, in order to make the most of the hot weather before it disappeared once again. However, from the look on her face when you reached your usual table and the suitcase by her side, you knew that the garden party was not going to go ahead.

Emily didn't know what to expect as you took a seat opposite her, having placed a soft and hesitant kiss to her lips, the same location that you both met almost a year ago. When she had seen you, holding a book that simply reminded her of Reid, she knew she had to talk to you. You reminded her of everything she had left behind, your smile mimicking Jennifer's as she had complemented your literary tastes, but she had fallen for you even after she stopped feeling home sick.

Your face fell as soon as you saw her, a tenderness to your voice as you said, "Jess, what's going on?"

"y/n, I need to tell you something, and I need you to listen until the end." You nodded at her, biting the inside of your cheek as your fingers tapped rhythmically on the table. Emily's face fell, it had taken you so long to trust her in the first place, now she was sat before you with her bags packed and ready to leave. It didn't take a profiler to know that the situation had triggered your anxiety.

Letting out a sigh, Emily whispered, "I haven't been completely truthful with you."

"As long as you don't have a secret family, I am good." You joked lightly, your eyes fleeting around the café as the waiter brought your usual drink, the spot in front of your girlfriend remaining empty. That was the first sign that this conversation wasn't going to last long.

Taking your hand in hers, Emily tried to pull your gaze back to her meet her own, knowing that if you could see the sincerity in her eyes that you wouldn't react as harshly, "y/n, I am not from her. And I'm not a librarian, or at least I wasn't before I came here."

"Jess, this isn't funny." You stated, your voice shaking with disbelief. Internally, you prayed that this was simply a joke, but you knew, from the tears that were already sitting in her eyes, that you were not going to be relieved.

She took in a breath, tilting her head to the sky the way she had done on the nights where you would sit on the balcony talking for hours about your families. You had never understood how she could talk with such fondness about the family who had rejected her, after she had shared her true heart and identity with them. Her tears, on those nights, had been caused by the remnants of what had been and the potential future's she had lost when she lost them. But she had always ended those conversations by telling you how all the hurt had been worth it, as she met you when she was wallowing in the ashes.

"Please, baby, just listen for a moment." You nodded, blinking back the tears that were threatening to over flow. "When I was in DC, I, well I, I died. I was an FBI agent and a case from before I joined my team came back to haunt me; I died protecting a little boy from his father. However, the father of the boy got away, and it wasn't safe for me anymore. I was given a new identity here, for my protection."

Fear stopped you from meeting her eyes, you weren't afraid of her, you could never be afraid of her, but you were afraid of showing her the pain that was building in your heart. For the last year, you had trusted her with every part of you, each and every metaphorical scar had been shared with the woman who sat before you. Jessica DeMonde has become a stranger to you within a matter of seconds.

Noticing the shaking of your hand and the way your lips trembling as you tried to form a sentence despite no words being auditable, Emily continued to explain, "I wanted to tell you, but I had been sworn to secrecy. Not even my family knew I was alive, my mother thinks that she buried me in the ground a year ago."

Somehow, everything made more sense now that you knew the truth. How she had smiled as she compared your love for classic literature to her younger brother - who you now dated had any biological relation to her - despite her story about why she had come to Paris.

You picked at you nails as you asked, your voice so soft that she could barely hear you, "What's your name?" She looked at you shocked by the lack of expression on your features, every emotion having cancelled out the last as you continued on your rollercoaster conversation. Emily had been so taken back by your lack of expression that she had remained silent, having forgot that you had even asked a question. You grit your teeth, snapping slightly as you repeated, "What is your name?"

"Emily Prentiss," she whispered, causing your tears to overflow in realisation. She had lied to you about everything, she hadn't even told you her real name.

Letting out a sharp breath, you shook your head in disbelief as you questioned, "Was everything a lie?"

"Not when I told you I loved you," she replied, causing your sobbing to increase. Knowing that she loved you made the discovery that she had lied sting that much more, no matter how justified her deception was.

"How can I trust you," You asked, unable to think straight. "You lied to me about everything for a year. Why are you telling me the truth now?"

Emily knew that the truth would be what hurt you the most now, but she had decided when you had begun the conversation that you deserved the full, undiluted truth. That was why she had put herself through the heartbreak of seeing your trust in her disintegrate before her, even if the pain she caused herself was a hundred times that it saved you she would take the pain. That was why she wiped her tears away as she explained, "I have to go back to DC. The boy I was protecting, he's been taken and I may be the only person to understand the man who took him."

"So, if you weren't leaving, you would still be lying to me." You asked, knocking your glass over as you flung your hands into the air in disbelief. Everyone around you was now staring, and you muttered an apology before drying the spill with the pile of napkins at the table. Emily tried to help, but you batted her hands away, closing your eyes as you whispered, "I can't Je- Emily. I have to go."

"(Y/N), please don't go." Emily responded, her face trailed with tears the pair of you being the opposite from what you were sure the tourists around you expected when they booked their holiday to the city of love. Taking your hands in hers, she added, "I didn't lie about who I was beyond my past; I told you the truth about who I am. The people who I said were my siblings and my cousins, they are my team and closest friends."

"Jess, I trusted you." You yelled, no longer caring about the people around you hearing your conversation, this sudden change in character caused Emily to recoil in shock. "I trusted you and I loved you. What were you going to do after you went back to DC, Je-Emily? Were you going to come back on the weekends, hope we could make it work?”

"I wanted you to come with me." Emily whispered, causing you to look at her shocked. "I meant it when I told you I loved you. You are the one person I have felt comfortable with for a long time, I can't lose you."

"Emily sorry, I can't. Not right now." You declared, pulling yourself away from her. Putting a physical distance between you created the illusion in your mind that there was an emotional distance as well, despite the fact that your heart was still very much intertwined with hers. "I need time, please accept that. I will call you soon, and we can talk about everything. Can you give me time to process this?"

Taking a deep breath, Emily nodded at you, "Of course, I'd wait forever for you."

Turning around, you looked up at the Eiffel tower denying the tears that were cascading over your eyelids. Without thinking you declared, "Do you know what's funny? I'm still in love with you, despite the fact that I don't know how to trust you anymore."

Emily didn't say anything, what could she say? In the last half an hour, she had given you every explanation she could and, even though she wished you could see the situation from her eyes, she understood why you were still unsure. She turned away from you, collecting her suitcase as she walked away from you, the place you had met and your last year.

Both of you fought not to look back at the other, the pair of you knowing that if you did you would give in and change your minds. Emily wouldn't go back to D.C; you would run into her arms and forget the heartbreak you were currently feeling. For that reason, neither of you looked towards the other. You simply wished you could forget the Paris sunsets that you had shared together from your balcony. But to forget that was to forget the best year of your life.

Series Tag List: (Message to be Added)

[let-me-write-shit]

Somebody To You: 7

Friendly reminder to please Like and/or Reblog. It helps more than you think! :)

WARNING: Smut!!! (I put **** before and after so you can skip if you’d like)

Word Count: 2,928

A/N: There’s not too much Harry in this chapter. I thought about combining 7 & 8, but it would have been waayyyyy too long. I’m excited for the next chapter! It’ll be a super fluffy one.

Click Here For Previous Chapter & Other Completed Stories

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

CHAPTER SEVEN

As much as she tried to hide it, the heartache Zoey felt was impossible to ignore. The first week of June got harder day by day and there were still four days to go until June 9th. One whole year since her best friend died. The week started out okay, for the most part. She was able to fake a smile and pretend to care about what anyone had to say. She was even able to participate in a movie night with her roommates and Brett. But by Friday, Zoey had pretty much distanced herself from everyone.

Andy, of course, knew why she was upset and tried his best to show his understanding by the occasional hug or keeping everyone distracted at work so they didn’t notice her extra breaks, but he knew there was nothing he could say that’d make her feel any better. 

Nancy and Rory could tell something was bothering her, but by the fourth vague reply they received when they asked her what was wrong and if she was okay, they realized that she just didn’t want to talk about it and gave her some space while still finding ways to be the most amazing friends. All week they had been doing little things like buying her flowers, bringing her food, and leaving random sweet notes around the apartment expressing their love for her.

She had even been more distant with Harry, leaving a lot of his texts and calls unanswered. She felt bad because there was so much she wanted to confide in him about. All she wanted to do was talk about Jess, but she was just afraid that if she did, it would make the pain worse. And as understanding and as kind as Harry was, she just didn’t know if she could handle that.

Even Brett was unsure of what to do. In the last two days he’d come over to her place, Zoey made the excuse that she was too tired to hang out, so he wound up spending time with Rory and Nancy instead. She had distanced herself so much that by Friday night at work he didn’t know if they were still going on their date because she hadn’t mentioned anything about it all week. But after a brief conversation with Andy who reminded her not to forget her J-energy, she decided that she could really use the distraction.

Since Zoey worked later than Brett, they decided that they would meet up at the restaurant later after her shift ended. Luckily in LA most bars and restaurants were open all night and into the early hours of the morning, so they had their pick on where to go.

Her body felt heavy on the way up to her apartment, feeling physically and mentally exhausted. She had half a mind to call Brett and cancel their date, but she kept pushing the thought away. She needed to get out. She needed to force herself out of this funk before she spiraled.

Zoey pushed open the front door to her apartment and immediately heard the sound of laughter coming from the living room. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as it sounded like more people than she had anticipated. When she came into view, she stopped in her tracks.

“Oh. Hi. I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

Brett smiled at her from the couch, “I finished getting ready early and was bored, so I just figured it’d be easier to pick you up from here and just hang out with Rory and Nancy while I waited for you. Is that okay?”

“Oh, yeah, no, that’s fine,” Zoey shook her head, “I’m just going to get changed real quick, and then we can go.”

Zoey smiled tiredly at her friends before bounding to her room. She tossed her bag and phone on the bed and collapsed beside them, blowing out a ton of air and letting her muscles relax into the sheets, closing her eyes for just a minute. A chime sounded from her phone and she reached to grab it, noticing a new text from Harry along with two missed ones. She opened it and read the first text that said ‘Thinking of you. I’m here if you need me.’ The second was a picture of a cat with its face in a slice of bread, and the most recent was a quote from Princess Bride that read ‘For now, rest well and dream of large women’.

Zoey snorted, sitting upright and typing back a simple yellow heart emoji before heading to her closet. She decided on a red swiss dot dress with a plunging neckline paired with nude heels and gold necklaces. She freshened up her makeup a bit and put her ponytail into a neat bun, examining herself in the mirror one last time. Satisfied, she took a deep breath, actually feeling excited about her date with Brett.

As soon as she walked into view, Nancy burst into hoots and hollers, screaming about how good Zoey looked. She was such a good hype-girl and instantly made Zoey feel more confident. Aurora smiled her sweet, freckle-faced smile and said, “Zoey, you look gorgeous!”

“Thank you,” Zoey blushed, feeling loved by her roommates.

Brett stood up and joined her, giving her a little smirk before taking her hand and leading her out towards her car, informing her on which bar and grille he was taking her to and telling her all about the wonderful entrees he’s tried there in the past. The restaurant wasn’t anything fancy. It was a typical bar and grille, something she preferred over the typical five-star restaurants. She just felt more comfortable in this type of environment. Their waiter was clearly new but very nice as he took their food and drink orders, delivering it pretty quickly considering the number of people there, which was surprising for the hour at nearly 1 AM. They continued their conversation about work, laughing about conversations with some of their regulars and joking about their horror stories when they first started in the restaurant industry.

“You know, you really do look amazing tonight,” Brett smirked, eyeing her up and down.

Zoey grinned, taking a sip of her margarita. She had the habit of zoning out whenever Brett talked. Not because she was uninterested in what he had to say, but because accents were her weakness. This food was good and all, but she didn’t want to sit across from him over a meal and talk. All she really wanted was for him to throw her on her bed and pin her down.

Brett reached across the table and took her hand in his, running his thumb along hers as he stared into her face. “Thanks for coming on a date with me tonight.”

Zoey smiled kindly, but paused before speaking, narrowing her eyes slightly, “Brett, what are we doing?”

“What do you mean?” He asked, taken aback.

Harry’s question kept replaying in her mind. What’s the point of going on a date if it’s just a casual thing? The question was valid. What was the point? Before they even got close they discussed the intent of their relations to just be casual. But things were beginning to feel more serious now. Brett was around a lot more, texted and called her more frequently, even when he spent the night in her bed, she found that he would roll over and cuddle with her in the middle of the night. None of these things bothered her in their own right, but friends with benefits didn’t cuddle, did they?

“I mean, why are we on a date?” she repeated.

“Because I like spending time with you.”

“We always spend time together. You’re over all the time, I see you at work, we hang out outside of work. Why did we have to go on a date for you to spend time with me?”

Brett slowly took his hand back and sat up straight, eyes more concerned, “Do you not want to be on a date with me?”

Zoey sighed, worried that she might have just hurt his feelings, “No, Brett, it’s not like that. I’m just confused. I thought that we were just keeping things casual, and this seems a little more than casual.”

Brett was silent for a moment, staring down at his nearly empty plate before looking up, more confident this time, “How about you tell me what you want.”

“In what way?”

“Well, what do you want? Do you want to date? Or do you just want me to come over, fuck you, and then leave? Do you want to be just friends? What do you want this,” he motioned between the two of them, “to look like?”

His words seemed harsh, but his demeanor felt calm. He was genuinely asking her what she wanted. And to be honest, she hadn’t really thought about it. Her thoughts ranged over every possible scenario he listed, weighing the pros and cons of each option. But she kept thinking about how much fun she had at the beach with everyone and hated the idea of that ending. Her friend group was small, but it was mighty and strong. She couldn’t let that go. Especially not now.

Zoey’s head hurt, too many emotions swirling in her brain. She kept trying to stay focused on her conversation with Brett but would hear a laugh that sounded like Jess’s or smelled a scent that reminded her of her best friend that kept bringing her back to the fact that Jess had been gone for nearly a year and the pain felt like stabbing in her chest. She needed a distraction. She needed more than mental stimulation to keep her mind off of it. 

“Zoey?” Brett repeated, getting her attention.

Zoey placed her palms on the table and looked Brett in the face, her eyes more desperate than she had been all night as she said, “I want you to take me home and fuck me.”

Brett’s eyes widened, not expecting her response. He stuttered at first, unsure of how to respond or what she even really meant as it didn’t answer his question. But he snapped out of it quickly before pulling his wallet out and tossing a wad of cash on the table, almost certain he had overpaid, before sliding out of the booth, taking her hand and practically dragging her out of the restaurant.

The car ride back was silent, the sexual tension almost too much to handle. She kept squeezing her fists, letting her nails dig into the palm of her hands as she tried to occupy her thoughts on anything but the anniversary of her friend’s death or the fact that she had to make a decision on what she wanted to do about Brett.

He averaged 90 MPH on the way back to her condo, luckily without being pulled over. The elevator to the twenty-second floor could not have been slower, and luckily when they finally made it inside of her apartment, Rory and Nancy had already seemingly gone to bed. She really didn’t want to have to deal with any awkward before sex small talk. Binx had pranced over to them at the sound of the door opening and meowed up at the two, pressing the side of his head onto their ankles as he weaved in between their feet. Brett ignored him and led her straight to her room, closing the door before Binx could follow them in, and turned, pushing her against it.

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

 Their noses bumped into each other’s cheeks as they kissed, their teeth scraped by how hard Brett pressed his mouth to hers. Still not impressed with his kissing abilities, at least he showed eagerness, as he hungrily pulled her clothes off of her and slipped his condom from his pocket before pulling his own clothes off of himself. Instead of carrying her to the bed this time, he carefully inched her backward until the back of her legs bumped against the side of her bed frame. 

Zoey fell back onto her bed, scooting herself back as Brett ripped open the condom wrapper and slid it onto his member. Her chest rose and fell and her stomach twitched, impatient for more touch. He hovered over her, breath hot as he pressed his lips to hers once more and running his tongue over her teeth. She felt him reach down and take hold of himself before positioning his tip at her entrance, once again skipping the foreplay. She couldn’t blame him this time, though. She did tell him to take her home and fuck her which was exactly what he was doing.

He moaned into her mouth as he pumped himself inside of her and Zoey forced her face away from his and buried it into his neck in an attempt to regain feeling in her lips again. She breathed heavily, sliding her right hand in between their bodies until she reached her clit, pressing roughly and massaging herself counterclockwise, throwing her head back in pleasure. 

“You like that?” Brett grunted, pumping harder. “Yeah? You like that, don’t you!” He forced his upper half up higher and took hold of her breast with his free hand, squeezing hard. “You like that big cock, huh? You’re so wet,” he trailed off.

Zoey slapped her other hand over his mouth and groaned, “shut the fuck up,” before pushing him off of her and shoving him back down on the bed, straddling his hips.

Brett bit his lips as she slid herself onto him and placed her palms on either side of her head, bouncing her bottom half on him, slowly at first before gaining momentum. He grabbed her hips, pushing her further on his cock as he watched her breasts smack together. Alternating speed and direction, she felt her body start to shiver each time she hit her g-spot. He tried to grab her ass and stop her from moving as he neared climax so that he didn’t have to finish yet, but with her on top, she was in control. She leaned back, rubbing herself on his cock, stomach twitching from the pleasure and he gripped at her thighs, grunting as he came. Zoey kept rubbing herself with his cock still inside her, so close to peaking when finally her body stiffened and she finished.

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

Zoey lifted herself off of him and got to her feet, trying to regain her balance before she staggered through her dark bedroom, grabbing her robe and quietly making her way out into the hall and towards the bathroom where she did her business. Zoey stared at her face in the mirror. Her makeup was cracking, her bun was falling out of the hair tie, and her lips were bright red raw from how hard the kissing was. She rolled her sleeves above her elbow and splashed her face with water before grabbing some face wash, lathering it up in her hands, and pressing it to her face, working in circular motions and splashing her face once more, letting the water drip down her nose and into the sink. She did this two more times until she felt like her face was completely makeup-free, patting on some moisturizer before heading back to her room.

Binx was standing in front of her door and she smiled, picking him up and nuzzling her face into his soft fur, pecking the top of his head before setting him back down and slipping back into her bedroom where Brett was, now under the covers and propping his head up with his arm underneath a pillow. Zoey pulled on some underwear and draped her robe back over the back of the chair before slipping into bed beside him.

“You never answered my question,” he finally spoke.

Zoey breathed, “I know.”

“Whatever you want, I’m okay with it.”

She thought for a moment before speaking, “I like hanging out with you. Hell, my friends like hanging out with you. I just don’t want to go on any more dates with you, because I don’t want anything serious right now.”

Brett nodded, “I agree.”

“But if you ever want to have sex, let me know,” Zoey added, lightening the mood making Brett laugh.

There was a moment of hesitation before Brett asked, “Do you want me to leave, then? Or should I stay?”

Zoey shook her head, running her hand down the length of his arm, “No, it’s late. You can stay.”

She watched as he rolled over and fell asleep. And just as quickly as he began snoring, Jess was back on her mind. Tonight was the most energy and talking she had done in a week and she was already exhausted, but her brain would not shut off. Zoey’s mind circled between her best friend and the need and desire to talk about her with Harry. Apart of her wanted to text him to see if he was up. If anyone would understand and know what to say, it’d be him. But it would only be 5 AM on the East coast, and Zoey didn’t know if she could handle the conversation, anyway. Instead, she stared out of the window, forgetting to close to curtains earlier, straining to find a star against the lit-up LA night sky. There was a faint glow in the distance, barely visible, but there, and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut, whispering so quietly that it could have just been a breath, “I miss you,” before she finally drifted to sleep.

KEEP READING

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

Taglist for Somebody To You:

@thurhomish​

[shadys]

When you’ve lost the love of life

Fandom: Glee

Pairing: Seblaine (Sebastian/Blaine)

Summary:  Kurt regretted many things in his life, but there was only one thing in his life that he truly regretted with all his life. He had broken up with Blaine. And there was nothing he could do about it since Blaine and Sebastian are now married. To think that it all started a year ago.

Notes:  Hello! I pulled some scenes from season 6. All rights go to glee. Thank you for reading!

Warnings: None :)

Kurt regretted many things in his life, but there was only one thing in his life that he truly regretted with all his life. He had broken up with Blaine. And there was nothing he could do about it since Blaine and Sebastian are now married. To think that it all started a year ago.

~

Kurt was sitting in the chair, waiting for Blaine to come. He was watching a movie that was showing on the screen. That was until he heard a voice, "Hi, I hope that I didn't keep you waiting for too long."

Kurt spun to see who it was. Blaine. He looked amazing, as always. "H-hi. Uh, no I just got here too."

They both hugged quickly and sat down on the table. They sat there in silence for a couple of seconds, until Kurt spoke up again, "Thank you for coming here to see me. I understood if you told me to screw off."

"No, no, it's fine. I wanted to come and see you," Blaine replied.

Kurt was surprised, he didn't really expect that answer. So he decided to blurt it out since that was the reason who was here.

"Well, uh, I'm here to get you back. Sorry for blurting that out, I figured that I'd just be clear with you. First I'm going to get your forgiveness, then I am going to win your heart back," Kurt said with uttermost confidence.

Blaine looked in shock for a few moments. But he managed to speak out slowly,  "U-uh, Kurt, I-i'm seeing someone. "

Now it was Kurt's turn to look shocked. "O-oh?"

"Ya, a-and I wanted to tell you in person since you already know him," Blaine replied.

Kurt didn't really know what to say. He was hoping that it wasn't Sebastian Smythe, the meerkat. He just kept his thoughts to himself. Just when he was about to say something though, he heard a new voice coming from behind him.

"Hey, killer."

Kurt mentally groaned inside after turning around to see who the voice belonged to. Sebastian Smythe. He walked over and kissed Blaine, then took a seat. Sebastian grew a bit, looking more mature. College must've done well on him. Yet he still carried that meerkat smirk.

"Oh, hey Kurt. I didn't notice you," Sebastian smirked.

"Good to know," Kurt mumbled back.

"Huh?"

"I was saying how nice it is to meet you," Kurt sarcastically replied, while glaring at Sebastian.

Kurt tried really hard not to cry at that moment, so he just acted cool about everything and gave a tight smile to Sebastian.

"I know that this isn't really what you expected, and it might be a bit weird for you since we all have a little history," Blaine started off to cut off all the glaring.

Kurt couldn't believe his eyes. Blaine and Sebastian, dating! That little criminal chipmunk finally got Blaine. "Oh boy, I think I am going to be sick," Kurt thought to himself, but he decided to speak up.

"N-no it's fine Blaine. Totally not weird at all. So how did you guys meet up?" Kurt tried to assure Blaine and himself.

"Well, we actually met at Lima Bean, a couple of months before."

"Oh?"

Sebastian cut in, "It was really crazy. I was sitting at Lima, checking out this guy. But all of a sudden, I'm like 'Wait a second, I know that hair.' "

Blaine laughed, "Ya. And then he came over and we talked, mostly about you. It was just me talking on and on about the break-up. You know I was really angry about what happened. But luckily Sebastian was a good listener."

"It was just like old times," Sebastian added.

Kurt just sat there, nodding with a smile on a face. But inside Kurt wanted to run out of here as fast as he could. Honestly, Kurt thought this was too much.

Blaine noticed a flicker of sadness on Kurt's face, "I know this isn't what you wanted, but I hope that we can all be adults about it."

"Ya, ya of course. If you'll excuse me, I need to use the bathroom," Kurt answered.

Kurt immediately sped walked to the bathroom, only looking back once, to see Blaine and Sebastian kiss one more time, looking happy. He ran to one of the stalls and cried his heart out. He wasn't happy with what he happened, but he was still determined to win the love of his life back.

~

A week later, Kurt was helping out Brittany with her engagement gift. She was using Mounds Bars to represent the minutes Santana and she had spent. Apparently, Mounds Bars were the “lesbians of candies”.

Kurt decided to apologize for his behavior back in the glee club. “I’m sorry for interrupting your proposal. I have a firm belief that people shouldn’t get married until they’re 30,” Kurt started off, but then continued on to say, “I believe in you and Santana. You remind me of Blaine and me.”

“Except for the fact that Santana and I are still together,” Brittany pointed out.

“Well, I just believe that Blaine and I are on a hiatus,” Kurt contradicted.

“And I like to believe that Lord Tubbngton isn’t videotaping me in secret while I’m in the shower and selling it on Craigslist. It doesn’t make it true,” Brittany shrugs.

They stood there in awkward silence for a second. That was until Brittany decided to say it, “Okay, look I hate to be the one saying this, but uh, Blaine’s moving in with Sebastian.”

Kurt looked in shock, clearly not expecting that.

Brittany continued on, “I was helping them decorate yesterday. You need to start getting over him and start to see someone else. I am pretty sure there is someone in this world that will understand and appreciate your particular brand of eccentricity.”

Kurt took this into consideration. He was afraid of moving on, cause that will be admitting that things are over with Blaine and him, and he didn’t want to admit that it was over. He was not ready to let go of the love of his life.

~

A year later, Kurt was in New York. He had just graduated from NYADA and had a good thing going on in his life. He dated a few people, but none of them were like Blaine.

Currently, he was in his loft, where he was meeting up with Rachel. He was sitting on the coach skimming through the channels on the tv, waiting patiently for Rachel.

Suddenly he heard the doorbell ring. “That must be Rachel,” he thought to himself.

He opened the door, and there stood Rachel, grinning back at him, “Hi Kurt!”

“Hey, Rachel! How are you? I haven’t seen you for a while,” Kurt replied as he pulled in for a hug.

“I know, I know, and I’m so sorry I haven’t stopped by. I’ve just been really busy with Broadway, NYADA, and everything. I’m also trying to figure out things with Jesse,” Rachel rambled on as they walked over to the couch, where both of them sat down.

Kurt nodded along as Rachel continued talking. He was a bit jealous about how Rachel made her big break on Broadway and managed to be in NYADA. But he’s also happy with his life, or so he thinks.

“Well enough about me. How are you, Kurt? How have things been?” Rachel asked.

“I’ve been good. You know, just been trying to find my big break,” he says as he gives Rachel a nervous smile.

“Don’t worry! You’re Kurt Hummel! You’ll find your big break soon,” she reassures him, “But how is your social life? Are you dating anyone?”

“No, not really. I’ve just been taking a break from dating,” he stated.

“Oh ok. That’s good though! Finding some time for yourself,” she gives him a smile.

Kurt wonders whether he should ask the question that he’s been waiting to ask. But he just decides to ask, what does he have to lose?

“Hey so, how’s Blaine? Haven’t heard from him for a while?” Kurt asks, slightly wincing.

“Oh, well he’s fine. You know, stuff,” Rachel nervously laughs, obviously hiding something.

“Rachel, I know you’re hiding something. What happened?” he questions her.

“Well I hate to be the one to tell you this,” Kurt remembering Brittany saying something similar a year ago, “But Blaine’s engaged.”

“WHAT? With who?” Kurt double-takes.

“Sebastian Smythe. Apparently. Sebastian did the Uptown Girl number with the Warblers to Blaine, and then proposed.” Rachel winces after hearing Kurt’s reaction, “But Sebastian’s not all that bad though, he’s actually pretty nice once you get to know him.”

“Get to know him? What?” Kurt immediately asks.

Rachel regrets what she said once she fully registers what she said. She stammered, “W-well, it was n-nothing much. I was just in Ohio for a week, and I saw Sebastian. We talked for a bit, and he was pretty nice. He’s not the same person from high school.”

Kurt looked stunned, confused about how Rachel could like a person like Sebastian Smythe. He didn’t know that Rachel, his best friend, could betray him like that.

“Look Kurt, I got to go now, I have to meet Jesse. I’m sorry you didn’t know about the whole proposal thing,” she gives him a nervous smile after clearly noticing his reaction again.

Kurt snapped out of his trance, “Okay, ya, no problem. I’ll just see you later Rach. Bye.”

And with that, Rachel left. Kurt sat on the couch, processing what just happened. How could Blaine say yes to marriage with Sebastian Smythe? Of all people, Sebastian Smythe? Kurt got annoyed at the thought of Blaine and Sebastian. But he still hadn’t lost hope, he wasn’t ready to let go of the love of his life.

~

A few months later, but Kurt was still in denial. He still thought he could make things the way they were, just like in high school. Kurt did everything he could to try to win Blaine’s heart back. All that ever did was put an even larger distance between Blaine and him.

It was the day of Blaine and Sebastian’s Wedding. When Kurt first got the invitation, he decided not to go. But when he thought about it a little more, he realized this was his last chance to win Blaine’s heart back. So he RSVP'd yes to the wedding in the hope to stop it.

When he came inside the church, he saw a lot of familiar people from the old New Directions. He also saw the old Warblers, from when he first transferred to Dalton. Both show choirs seemed to be getting along well, much to his surprise.

“Hey Kurt,” he heard a familiar voice calling him.

“Hi,” Kurt turned around to see who it was, “Mercedes!”

“How are you? It’s been a while,” she asked.

“I’m good. How are you? You look great,” he replied, pulling in for a hug.

“Thanks. I’m surprised though, I didn’t think you would come to the wedding,” Mercedes pointed out.

“Oh well, I thought I’ll just come. You know, see Blaine and all,” Kurt quickly reacted, “Speaking of Blaine, have you seen him?”

“Oh ya, he’s in the upper left corner room,” she smiled pointing to where Blaine was, while eating her bowl of tots.

“Okay, thanks. Well, I’ll see you later!” Kurt said before rushing off to where Blaine was.

Kurt walked through the halls of the church. He was a bit sad, if he was honest. He always thought that Blaine and he would get married, and living happily ever after together. Apparently some dreams don’t become reality.

He knocked on the door to the room which Blaine was in.

The voice inside replied, “Come in.”

Kurt walked in, where he saw Blaine in his tuxedo, making final touches to his outfit.

“Oh, it’s you, Kurt. I thought it would be Santana,” Blaine said in his cheerful voice.

“Yup, it’s me. I figured I see you, it’s been a while,” Kurt gave a simple smile.

They stood there in awkward silence for a few moments, until Blaine broke the silence, “Kurt, why exactly are you here?”

“Well I got an invitation,” Kurt sounded a bit offended.

“I know, but I didn’t really think you’d come after, well you know, everything,” Blaine observed.

Kurt started off, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for everything. I really did love you Blaine, and I still do love yo-”

Blaine sighed. He knew that something like this would’ve happened.

“Kurt, I really don’t need this right now. I know that you were trying to win my heart back, but you can’t. Sebastian already has it. I really love him, Kurt. I did love you, Kurt. You were my first love, but I’ve moved on, and so should you,” Blaine told, tears threatening to come out as he continued to talk.

“But I-,” Kurt tried to cut in,

“Look, Kurt. I invited you here as my friend. I really appreciated that you came to the wedding. If you have a problem you can leave. I’m not trying to be rude or anything, but it is my wedding day, and it’s supposed to be special, so please understand my wishes,” Blaine interrupted.

Kurt looked shocked. He barely saw this side of Blaine a lot. He sighed and gave a tight smile, “Okay. I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. Goodbye Blaine.”

Blaine nodded and replied, “Goodbye Kurt.”

Kurt walked out of the door, taking one look back. Blaine was looking in the mirror, adjusting his suit. He looked really happy, so Kurt made sure he wasn’t going to interrupt the day. He wished that he never broke up with Blaine, but it is what it is. He walked back to his chair, and watched the wedding start.

He saw Sebastian standing at the altar, genuinely smiling. “He seems happy,” Kurt thought to himself. He watched Blaine walk down the aisle with his dad. He saw the officiator recite the words, and heard the words “Does anyone object to this wedding?” Kurt sat in his chair, though he knew Blaine glanced at him.

As soon as he heard the words, “I now pronounce you Husbands”, it took all of his willpower not to cry. He saw Blaine and Sebastian kiss, with everyone cheering for the married couple. Kurt clapped, not wanting to be rude. He put on a fake smile, though he knew he wanted to cry in the inside. He saw Blaine and Sebastian, a newly married couple. Sebastian finally got something Kurt feared he would, he got Blaine.

He wasn’t looking forward to the reception but forced himself to go. He faked his way through this part of the wedding, he could make it through the reception. But Kurt couldn’t hide from the truth. He lost the love of his life.

[docholligay]

Smoke and Ashes

This is a fic I wrote mostly for me for once but also for @rosepetalrevolution and anyone else who is interested in These Western Fucks, namely Yael, McCree, and Ashe. You can find it in the timeline: here. 3,300 words I would love to know if you enjoy it!! 

“Please don’t!” Tears ran down his face. “For Christ’s sake, please!”

“Wrong audience, motherfucker.” Yael cocked her gun, and fired, an impressive spray of blood spackling across McCree’s boots.

He looked down at them and frowned. “I just polished these, Yael.” He picked some of the brass off the ground. “That was quick.”

“Easy when it’s a bunch a little boys pissin their pants.” She knelt down and rifled through the dead man’s pockets, “Jacinta! You done over there? Quit bein’ so fuckin’ dramatic.”

The echoing fire of a gun was the reply, and Jacinta walked around the end of the truck. “I would think you’d appreciate lingering on this a little bit.”

“It’s not about enjoying the job, it’s a practical matter,” Yael took the cigarettes out of the dead man’s jacket, tapping one out of the pack and lighting it, taking a long drag as she leaned her elbows back onto the dead man’s chest, “Though I don’t hate it. Goddamn, even their cigarettes are terrible, Jesus fucking wept.”

She sat up and put the cigarette out in his cheek.

“Nice cache a weapons, though.” McCree set an AK to the side of the truck.

“Welp,” Yael slapped her knee, “Alls well that ends well, then.” She gave a chuckle and slapped McCree on the shoulder. “We’ll eat good tonight, tell you what. Already have a buyer.”

“Didn’t you,” McCree pushed the brim of his hat back a touch, “Specifically tell me, more n once, not to sell anything you ain’t got in hand?”

“Yael thinks the rules don’t apply to her.” Jacinta put a crate of ammo into the back of the truck, “Thinks she is special.”

“You’d know.” Yael grinned.

Jacinta tried to scowl, but smiled anyhow, as she checked a rifle for a round. “You are not cute.”

“Yael you ever think that the people we sell these to, are gonna go back and sell em to these poor fucks again?” McCree had said it quite without meaning to.

Yael’s internal compass was its own creature, and McCree could never quite puzzle it out. She was happy enough to take the boxes of illegal arms from these people, but the suppliers they sold to probably didn’t exactly ask for an essay on intercultural exchange before they sold them. It’d just fall back, that they’d be back where they started.

“Not those poor fucks,” she tipped her head to the one on the ground, his head split open, flies buzzing around his brains, “cleared that right up.”

And that would be the end of the debate, McCree knew, in the way he knew he’d never stop thinking it. There were certain things, rhythms, in the gang, that flowed through everything they did like a bends of a river, and McCree knew how to point his canoe by now.

McCree had come to them three years ago, but it might as well have been a lifetime. Cody Stenslund was an old man with a scraggy group of hungry young kids, and a smaller band of old men like him. It was the assumption they’d picked up these kids to pass the torch to someone, and it had proved successful, and he hadn’t wanted McCree. No one seemed to, back then.

But Yael was clever, and she was a connoisseur of people who survived when they weren’t meant to, and she’d stood for him. He’d been with them ever since, through his own training and scrapes and Cody’s retirement, and he couldn’t see leaving. Yael was Yael about near everything, but McCree never worried about where he was going to go, what he was going to eat, and the drifting tumbleweed decided this was a fine fence to be caught upon.

Besides that, he’d reflected at Jacinta and Yael’s wedding, it was a kind of a family, and McCree needed all of that he could get.

Carey loaded on an unopened crate to the back of the truck, and flipped up the tailgate, leaning against the back of it and giving McCree a grin, the soft green of his eyes flickering with excitement.  

“Yael said beers are on her tonight.” He tapped out two cigarettes, and offered McCree one, which he gratefully accepted.

“Better be,” he lit the smoke and took a deep drag, “much as she’s had us all runnin around Hell out here.”

Carey chuckled softly. He was a few years older than McCree, like most of the gang, tall and thin, his dark brown hair clipped neatly. He had no idea about McCree. McCree barely had any idea about McCree, even when he thought about walking over to Carey’s bunk in the night and kissing him as the moonlight streamed through the window.

There was nothing for McCree to be ashamed of, and he knew that, but somehow he still couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Yael had done it. No one questioned her or so much as said boo about it.

But the rules didn’t apply to Yael, you know.

“Well boys,” Yael circled around and tossed the keys to Carey, who caught them handily, “let’s get to gettin.”

_____

Ashe stood outside the bar, adjusting the collar of her shirt and trying to get the right angle of the hat on her head. She’d known the Deadlock Gang was going to be here, it was an open secret that they protected this bar and the bar did the same to them, a scrappy outpost at the edge of the world that no one seemed to much care about and that seemed fine to everyone inside.

She walked in the door, the dark and agining place exactly as she’d imagined it, and found the gang immediately. The leader was just as she’d read, when she decided this was the career path she wanted to take, when she got sick of everything her parents expected for her, tired of being a show pony and ready to take it on her own. She was a scary story to tell in the dark as much as she was a person, and Ashe wanted that for herself.

She strode confidently to where she sat, and a lean, green-eyed man to Yael’s right put his hand on a gun.

But Yael just watched, leaned forward onto her elbows, as Ashe approached.

“Yael Rabin?” She cleared her throat, puffing her chest out.  “Been looking for you. “I’m here to join the Deadlock Gang.”

No one said anything for a moment, and Ashe wondered if the entire concept of sound had gone from her, the chatter and music fading away from the space and leaving only Ashe, standing there.

Then Yael drummed her fingers on the table.

“You just looking for trouble in alphabetical order or somethin’? Barstow Boys turn you down already?”  Yael picked up a toothpick from the holder and on the table and placed it between her teeth as she studied Ashe.

It was the sort of look Ashe had not yet become accustomed to, though she would learn it for herself, in time. It was a look that scanned over every inch of her, that took the information and made conclusions, and locked it away until it was needed. It was the searing eye of a hawk setting on a rabbit, and Ashe squirmed underneath despite herself.

“Nice boots you got there, Tex.” A sly smile crept across her face and her collected gang spit out hoots of laughter.

Ashe didn’t give her the satisfaction of looking down, but she noticed the beaten and scuffed hat Yael wore, the way her shirt had faded in rings from being pushed up to her elbows in the sun, and had a sudden moment of realization that the same things she wore that impressed the folks when she did barrel were a mistake here.

Didn’t matter. She was a trick of a rider, she could shoot a gun, and Ashe knew, above anything else, that the infamous Deadlock Gang could only profit by adding her to the group, even if they did make fun of her bright silver buckles.

“Name’s Ashe.” She jutted out her chin and extended her hand.

“Sure it is.” Yael chuckled and leaned back in her chair, and Ashe crossed her arms, her mouth forming into an angry twist, which Yael handily ignored, “You even old enough to be in here? Go home, kid, I ain’t got time to play dolls.”

“How old’s he?” She motioned her chin to the man at her left, though it was hardly fair to call him man, not yet filled in, still gangly with the edge of teenagerhood.

“Jesse?” She turned to him and smiled, “I dunno, how old are you?”

“Forty five this July.” He took a drink of his beer.

“That’s about what I thought, why, thank you Jesse.” she picked up her own beer, “Well, there you have it.”

Ashe popped like a corn kernel.

“You were younger than me, sixteen! When you joined the Deadlock Gang, and now you’re only afraid--”

“I ain’t afraid of shit,” Yael laughed, “You think you can compare yourself to me, Tex? What’s the worst thing ever happened to you, Daddy tell you no new pony this year? Shiiiit.” She chuckled again. “Swear to god, they get stupider every year.” She stood up. “You ain’t hungry enough. You don’t need it enough. You got a net, girl, and we perform without one.” She turned back briefly to her gang. “Gonna go find Jaci and have a smoke.”

She turned her back to Ashe as she left, completely unafraid of anything Ashe could do, and all she could do is stand stock-still, fuming and furious and embarrassed and ashamed and hungrier than Yael could ever know.

___

McCree didn’t ask too many questions, at this time in his life.

It would sound stupid to say it out loud, as he heard the dogs barking in the distance outside the shitty honky tonk, the party having briefly broken up from their reverie, but the last three years had been the most stable in his life since his mother had died. It wasn’t much of a life, rolling along the backroads and still-quiet ways that barely seemed to exist except as corridors anymore, but it was his, and it was consistent, and he knew what he was meant to do and why, and what he brought.

He wasn’t interested in shaking up the flow he’d come to understand in his life, and he wasn’t sure what someone so rich would want with the Deadlock Gang anyhow. Could be that she was an agent trying to infiltrate, but McCree hoped they’d send someone a little better than some little blonde thing fresh out of the ranchwear store. Maybe that was the trick, that they thought it was so stupid Yael’d fall for it.

They didn’t know her very well.

Ashe breezed by him after Yael, having had a few moments to think to herself and still not giving up, and he chuckled. She had plenty of sand, that much was sure, and if he was going to be so stupid as to tell Yael her business, he’d say that a sparrow who’s willing to chase after a hawk with no fear of nothing wasn’t the stupidest idea for the gang. Yael had a kill count that rivaled a small army, and there was no way Ashe didn’t know that. It just didn’t seem to matter. She had an idea of what she wanted, and maybe Yael would have to shoot her to get her to find another one.

They didn’t usually meet people like this, who wouldn’t take Yael’s no for an answer. Yael was particular about her crew, even at the best of times, and though she’d help other hard up folks set up complimentary organizations, or reinstall them their lives back home on their farms and ranches and wilds, her Deadlock Gang was a tightly closed group, only people she would happily sleep with her back to. And this girl was in no way Yael’s kind of people. This was all more stuff she should’ve known but didn’t seem to care much about.

There was a part of McCree that respected that.

Carey walked up next to him and sipped his beer. “What’s the over under on Yael shootin her where she stands?”

McCree smiled over at him. “She’s had, what, three beers? Say ten minutes.”

“You’re a regular optimist, Jess,” Carey clapped him on the shoulder, and McCree looked away from him into the night, “say that much for ya.”

McCree wasn’t sure he’d call himself that, but there was something that told him this girl who called herself Ashe was gonna be a thorn in everyone’s side for a long time.

___

Yael didn’t seem to be listening to her, just walking along and tapping out a cigarette as she looked up at the half-clouded moon.

“You don’t know what I can do!” Ashe spat, the injustice of the situation, the hopelessness of it, drilling into her head.

“But I do know that it’s my gang, and, I don’t like you.” She put the cigarette to her lips and flicked her lighter, shielding it from the wind. “Don’t need no prissy little rich girls whose daddies bought em their titles.”

What Yael needed and what Yael ended up getting could be very different indeed.

“Elizabeth Ashe?” A voice came out of the darkness, and Ashe’s hair stood up at the sound of her name.

She turned around and her eyes met with dark brown ones, ones she did not know but clearly knew her. It was not a question so much as a confirmation, but whatever it was, it furrowed Yael’s brow.

“You know her, Jacinta?” Yael stood up from where she leaned against the beam.

Jacinta took her eyes off Ashe for a moment, meeting Yael’s gaze, and let out an exclamation of rapid-fire Spanish, which Ashe suddenly wished she had opted to take in all of her private schooling.

“Huh,” was all Yael said by way of hint, before asking Jacinta a question Ashe could not understand, and receiving an answer Ashe wished she could know. “I dunno, Jaci, bad idea to me.”

Her ears perked at the English, and she looked back to Jacinta, wondering where she could possibly know her from. She was a handsome woman, dark with glossy in a low, tightly wound bun at her neck, but Ashe could not quite place her name, or where they might have seen each other.

Yael walked over to where she and Jacinta stood, and waved Ashe off. “Git.”

It was the first command of Yael’s Ashe would obey, and it would not be the last, and at her hand she would learn how to give a command so it never seemed like a request, to men twice her size, but right now all she could do was back up until she nearly hit the two young men who had been sitting beside Yael in the bar.

Carey shrugged at her. “Jaci’s your best chance, rich girl.”

Ashe fumed, but didn’t say a word. There was someone, for whatever reason, who was fighting for her, and the argument seemed to be growing more heated, Yael shaking her head, her eyebrows in a knot as she looked to Jacinta, who waved a hand in fury even as she tried to cross her arms in front of her.

“If she wants you,” McCree drawled, “well, Jaci’s the only one Yael’l ever listen to.”

“I don’t know why she does.” Ashe hadn’t meant to say it, but it had slipped out, her thoughts as to all the reasons why filling the space in her head meant for a tough showing.

McCree looked over to her, a brief recognition of her inability to understand that made her blood boil, and chuckled. “Best not to.”

Yael threw her arms in the air and kicked the dip bucket by the side of the back porch, spraying wet tobacco across the wood. Jacinta seemed unimpressed.

“¡Bueno! Christ,” She took her hat off and nearly threw it into the dirt before reconsidering. “You win, alright?”

Ashe felt a swirl of excitement rise in her chest, and pride. She was going to be a member of the Deadlock Gang, the kind of gang that people whispered about, the kind of gang that even someone like the Barstow Boys held in high regard. And she would be, in no time, she was sure, be at the right hand of the hawk, Ashe, a legend in her own right.

These fantasies of her own grandeur were quickly brought back into the reality of the situation as Yael walked up to her and grabbed her by the collar, almost pressing their faces together. Yael and Ashe were nearly the same size, but Ashe was shocked by the sheer strength of her, the grip of her claw next to Ashe’s neck.

“Now listen here. This is against my better judgement or will, Tex, so I want you to take very careful notice of what I’m bout to say.” Ashe nodded as Yael stared deep into her eyes, but she did not break her gaze or let her lip quiver, “You want to be a part of this gang, you’ll come to find there’s work to be done that ain’t all in the papers and glory, and when I say jump, the only thing I wanna hear out of your goddamn mouth is how high. I will teach you to be a gunslinger and an arms runner and every terrible thing you wanna be, and you had better pay me back with your unending goddamn loyalty or I’ll shoot you myself.”

She let go of Ashe’s collar and half-tossed her back into Carey and McCree, who caught her gently by the shoulders.

“Married life’s a whole thing, ain’t it, Yael?” Carey laughed good naturedly.

“Carey, I will leave you in the ditch I found you in.” But she sighed, seemingly forcing herself to make peace with the new, shiny-booted, crisp shirted, silver trimmed reality in her life.

“You won’t regret it, I promise.” Ashe tugged at her shirt, rolling her shoulders back.

“And I ain’t callin you Ashe, so best get used to that idea.” She grinned, and her voice turned sickly-sweet, “Elizabeth Caledonia, pretty little miss of the Texas debutante set. Jesse!”

“Yeah?” he took off his hat and ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair before looking back to Yael.

“You’re off smoker duty tonight, other’n showin Bitsy here how to scrub it.” She waved her hand to McCree, “God knows you’ve earned it. And God knows you will, us having to teach her an honest day’s work.”

“She’s alright once you get used to her.” Carey gave his usual casual grin and shrugged. “Give her a year or two to warm up. Carey.” He gave a tip of his hat.

“Jesse.” He nodded to her.

She gave a snort, jutted her chin out, and looked at the two men who were now her teammates.

“Ashe.”

Carey chuckled as he turned to go. “S’not what Yael said.”

Ashe crossed her arms across her chest in frustration. When she had planned out the life she was going to create for herself, the infamous legend and outlaw she was going to become, this was not how she’d seen her first day on the team. She would learn, at Yael’s hand, how to scramble, how to deal, how to play a low card, but now she was a frustrated trainee.

“Welcome to the team,” McCree said, tipping his hat, “Come on then.”

Ashe gave the smallest smile, and she remembered she had won a victory today. It didn’t matter if she were Tex or Bitsy or whatever Yael wanted to call her today, because she had to call her one very important thing.

A member of the Deadlock Gang.

[beckzorz]

Out of Nowhere (14/21)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/OFC Summary: An offhand comment at work draws Jesse Kaplan into the orbit of Bucky Barnes. Bucky’s excited at the prospect of normalcy, but there’s nothing normal about falling in love with the Winter Soldier. Words: 3142 A/N: The song for this chapter is “I Guess I’ll Have To Change My Plan” by Jack Teagarden on Nobody Knows.

PART 14: “I GUESS I’LL HAVE TO CHANGE MY PLAN”

A knock on the door startled Jesse awake. She stared around, momentarily confused, until she remembered she was at Bucky’s place. In Bucky’s bed. Jesse sat up quickly, blinked to restore her equilibrium, and smoothed down her hair.

“Yeah?” she asked, voice hoarse with sleep. A clock by the side of the bed glowed dimly at her—god, it was barely past five. She rubbed her eyes and shook herself a little more awake.

Bucky opened the door and came a few steps inside before he paused, eyes wide. The sight of him put a smile on her face. He looked good, considering the hour, and he’d shed his long-sleeved shirt for a tank top. She’d been surprised last night when he’d rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, but this… Jesse had never seen his scars before. Her smile faded fast. The scars that stretched from the junction of his left shoulder and his prosthetic arm were stark against the rest of his skin, and she had to look away. Maybe one day she would be used to seeing the evidence of torture on him, but not yet. Not yet.

Jesse looked down and flushed. Well, no wonder Bucky was just standing there. The wide v-neck of her borrowed nightshirt had gone askew during the night, laying bare one of her shoulders and more skin on her chest than even her sexiest tops showed. One of her legs was mostly exposed, too. She tugged the collar back over her shoulder and crossed her legs under the blanket.

“Sorry,” she said. “Um… what’s up?”

Bucky blinked and strode over to the bed, any trace of surprise gone. He sat right beside her, his thigh pressed against her covered knee, and set the laptop in front of them. “It’s done.”

Jesse blew out a breath between her teeth. Her body tensed up as she waited for Bucky to finish generating the data he’d been hoping for. Had they found a jackpot or a minefield?

“Here,” Bucky said at last. “Your list.” He sat back and gestured for Jesse to read. Her eyes were still a little blurred from sleep, so she leaned forward, propping herself up on her hand. There were a few things open on the screen, but a spreadsheet with her own name on it grabbed her attention first.

The spreadsheet was full of information, a different person on each row. Jesse scrolled across the row assigned to her, her eyes widening as she saw how much information they had gotten. Appearance, address, phone number, social media accounts, weekly schedule… And none of it looked wrong.

“Jesus,” she whispered. She pressed a hand to her mouth and scrolled up and down. There were twenty-eight people on the list; Jesse was number twenty-three. Most of them were young women, and almost all were from Brooklyn or Queens. The one who’d almost shot Mike was twenty-four. If they were working through one person a week, this had been going on for months already, practically since the beginning of the year!

Jesse opened the spreadsheet’s second tab and blanched. This one had less information, but there were hundreds of names. Hundreds!

“What the hell,” she breathed.

“Yeah,” Bucky said darkly. “That’s just the beginning.” He made a separate spreadsheet fullscreen and shifted the laptop back in her direction.

Another list of people. Jesse frowned.

“I recognize some of these names,” she blurted. “That’s… my state senator? And that city councilor with the baby! What the hell are they planning?” She twisted around to face Bucky.

“That’s the problem.” He grimaced and scooched back to lean against the headboard. “There’s nothing.”

Jesse groaned and scooted back too, though she maintained a foot of distance from Bucky. “Fuck.”

“You talked with Mike yesterday,” Bucky said. “What did he say? Anything?”

“Nothing about their goals,” she admitted, and Bucky pursed his lips. Jesse could have kicked herself. Why hadn’t she thought to ask Mike more?

“Well, with all this, there’s gotta be something to pin on them. Even if there’s no clear motive.” Bucky pushed his hair back from his face and glanced at her. His gaze dropped from her eyes to her shoulders, then slowly roved back up. Heat prickled along Jesse’s neck. Bucky swallowed. “I—”

His phone buzzed. Bucky flinched and turned away. Jesse let out a slow breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

Whatever notification he’d gotten must have been urgent. Bucky sprang to his feet and headed to the door.

“Some of your stuff’s over on the dresser. Get dressed,” he said curtly, and then he was out of the room. The door closed sharply behind him.

Jesse stretched her legs, face pinched. Every time she thought something was about to happen, nothing did. Nothing was going to happen. She needed to focus, damn it.

She slid out from under the covers and gathered the outfit Bucky had left for her. She tugged on her leggings, but she hesitated to remove Bucky’s shirt. She clenched her hands around the fabric at her collarbone and pulled it to her nose. She breathed deep, eyes closed. The nightshirt had absorbed some of the scent of his sheets, and Jesse was loath to discard it for a bloodstained dress. But she couldn’t just take his things, no matter how much she wanted to bottle up that comforting smell and all the feelings that went with it. She pulled off his shirt and quickly put on her bra—if she didn’t get a change, she’d wear it out soon enough—and the blue dress.

Before she headed out, she checked herself in the mirror over his bureau. The bags under her eyes weren’t particularly noticeable, the bandage on her face was a reasonable size, and once she braided her hair she looked almost presentable. Not that Bucky had ever noticed how she looked, apart from her fifties dress at the confounded Stark benefit and her immodest wake-up attire today.

Well, she cared even if he didn’t. She shuddered to think of all the times he’d seen her looking out of joint. But right now, she looked alright. She licked her dry lips, made the bed, and folded the nightshirt. Her fingers lingered on the cotton as she left it on the pillow.

Jesse opened the door back out to the main space and froze. The bedroom door was straight across from the front door, and Bucky was talking to someone there in the dark entryway too softly for Jesse to hear. Neither of them seemed to have noticed her. Bucky’s shoulders were tight; his white tank was fitted enough that she could see how tense he was even from thirty feet behind.

After a minute, she edged farther into the living room. Bucky spun around. Without his body hiding most of his guest’s, Jesse recognized the redheaded woman who had swapped places with her at the hospital.

“Natasha?” she said.

“Jesse.” Natasha nodded in greeting. At the hospital, she’d been dressed to match Jesse, but now she was just in black jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. Her face was pale, and her mouth was tight. “I’m here to take you somewhere safe.”

Jesse glanced at Bucky. His expression was flat, different from his usual stressed face. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“I’m here to escort you to a safehouse,” Natasha replied.

“That isn’t any different from what you just said,” Jesse pointed out.

Natasha’s lips twitched; she glanced at Bucky with a flicker of amusement. “You’re not safe in the city. We have a safehouse upstate.”

Jesse blinked. “I can’t go upstate,” she said. “I have work.”

“You’re not safe here,” Natasha repeated. “No offense, Barnes.” Bucky dipped his chin the barest amount. A muscle in his jaw jumped.

Did his own teammates not even call him by name? Jesse flexed her hands at her sides; her shoulders felt as stiff as Bucky’s looked. ��Why do you say I’m not safe? What happened?” she asked Natasha.

“Someone tried to kill you last night,” Natasha said.

“Well, yes,” Jesse said. “But they don’t know—”

“What?!” Natasha spun on Bucky, brows drawn low. “Tell me you didn’t take her with you.” Bucky didn’t answer immediately, and Natasha punched his arm as she scowled at him. “I can’t believe this! Bucky, she’s a civilian.”

“It’s not his fault,” Jesse cut in. “I mean… our inside contact pretty much required me to go if Bucky was going to get in.”

“He could’ve got in all on his own just fine,” Natasha countered. “There’s no situation he couldn’t have made work. He’s a professional.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “This is beside the point. Those people? They came to the hospital last night, and they tried to kill you.”

Jesse blanched. “No! Are you okay? I’m so sorry—”

“Jesse,” Bucky interrupted. She fell silent and stared at him with wide eyes. He didn’t meet her gaze. “Not your fault.”

“That’s not what I—Are you okay?” she asked Natasha.

“Oh, I’m fine.” Natasha glanced again at Bucky. “But someone came looking for you, and it’s only so long before they start up again. Someone’s coming to pick us up. I’ll bring you to our safehouse myself.”

“I can’t just leave,” Jesse protested. “I have a job, I have a family, I have…” She trailed off, somewhat abashed. Did she even have friends? After all this drama, would Bucky still want anything to do with her? Not to mention her poor roommate. And how long had it been since she’d chatted with Adrian? Did she really have anyone? “I have friends,” she finished defensively.

“Your life is in danger,” Natasha said sharply.

“That doesn’t mean I can just drop everything!” Jesse’s breath came fast; she tried to take a deep breath, but her heart kept racing. “I can’t just abandon my work. And I have to Skype with my parents on Sunday!” She took a step back when Natasha tried to come closer. Bucky just loomed back in the shadows, staring at the wall.

Natasha pinched the bridge of her nose. “The authorities can talk to your work. We’ll arrange it, and you should be fine. If your work fires you for being under threat by a terrorist group, they’re assholes you shouldn’t work for anyway. And we’ve got ways for you to contact your family without these people finding out.”

Jesse floundered. All that… made sense. She bit her lip as she thought it through, never taking her eyes from Natasha. She still didn’t quite trust that she wasn’t going to be carted off against her will. The Avengers, these former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, they had contacts everywhere. The Avengers facility was supposed to be upstate, anyway. At least she wasn’t being told to leave the country. And BCEI were understanding. If Marilyn could work remotely due to her injury, maybe Jesse could too. The work was important, and she didn’t want to make everyone else’s lives impossible because of the trap she’d fallen into.

Her eyes slid at last to Bucky. He was still staring at the wall, and his expression was as chilly as it been the first time she’d seen him. She knew now it wasn’t an angry look, but her stomach dropped all the same.

“Bucky?” Jesse asked. His head perked up. “Can we talk?”

Bucky glanced at Natasha, who nodded. Bucky squeezed past her and led Jesse into the bedroom. The door closed behind them with a loud click.

Jesse sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. She tucked her hands under her legs and watched, face pinched, as Bucky pressed his hand against the door by the knob. When he finally turned towards her, his expression was blank. The chill was gone, but no warmth had replaced it.

“What?” he asked.

“You seem… Are you okay?”

Bucky blinked. “I’m fine,” he said. “You should go with Nat.”

“I don’t think I have much choice.” Jesse sighed. “If that’s what you both think, I will go. I just don’t want to go without—talking to you.” Her voice caught. Bucky’s expression softened; Jesse’s heart warmed as he sat by her.

“It’ll be fine, Jess,” he said, slinging his heavy arm around her shoulders. “Nat’s a much better person to have looking out for you.”

Jesse laughed out loud and leaned against him. Her cheek was pressed against his bare shoulder; his skin was warm. She could feel his quick heartbeat against her skin. How was it that they kept getting more and more intimate? Maybe she really didn’t have enough friends, if this was what it was supposed to be like.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” she said. “Natasha didn’t even warn me when she shot me with those steroids.”

“I don’t remember giving you a head’s up about knocking you out.” His chest rumbled with a quiet laugh.

“That was the right call,” Jesse said. If he hadn’t gone for it, who knew where she’d be right now? Certainly not sitting on Bucky’s bed, tucked under his arm, his heartbeat a steady rhythm against her cheek. “Natasha could have warned me. I don’t think you could’ve, not without things going to hell even faster.”

Bucky hummed in agreement.

Jesse’s eyes slid shut. For a few moments, at least, she could relax. God knew what would happen once she left. Natasha Romanoff was a virtual stranger. Almost everything Jesse knew of her was years old and probably from biased news sources. If nothing else, Bucky was a known quantity. Jesse knew him; she trusted him. He’d been nothing but good to her, despite all her blundering and awkwardness, not to mention all the problems she’d brought into his life. And to think, it had all started because she’d had to sub at a fancy benefit.

“Do you know,” she murmured, “I’m glad I had to go to that benefit.”

“You finally decided it was worth it, huh?”

Jesse opened her eyes and sat up. “It was worth it,” she said.

Bucky’s arm slid from over her shoulders to around her back, his hand warm and soft on her shoulder blade. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers. Jesse’s breath caught as she looked at him. God, he was so close, so beautiful, with his eyes closed and his soft mouth just curving into a smile. She could have stayed here gazing at him forever, she loved him so much.

Jesse’s lips parted in shock. She sprang to her feet, face hot and stomach churning.

“What is it?” Bucky blurted. He leapt up, the hand that had been on her back twitching.

“I… I just—excuse me,” she blurted. She burst out of the bedroom and went straight into the bathroom, not daring to look at Natasha. She slammed the door behind her and locked it.

Holy shit!

She loved Bucky? She loved Bucky! What the hell!

Jesse gripped the edge of the sink and stared at her reflection. How had she missed this? Had it just happened, right there sitting together? Had there been some spark when their faces touched, or had this all been going on for weeks?

Surprise didn’t quite capture her feelings. She was startled, but she couldn’t really be surprised. Dear god, who could overlook Bucky? How could anyone be immune to him? She’d never been. If she wasn’t perturbed, she was aching with silent longing. And given everything, who could blame her? He could turn her into a puddle in his arms; he’d saved her more times than she wanted to think about; he liked her, actually liked her for herself. Her lips quirked up into a smile.

How could she have resisted?

And what the hell was she supposed to do about it?

Jesse’s smile died. She knew the answer to that question, at least. What was she supposed to do? The same thing she’d been doing since the start: nothing.

She’d put Bucky through enough. He didn’t need to deal with her dumb feelings too, especially not now while there was an evil organization out to get them. She’d be the master of herself, and Bucky could live his life.

She’d live with what she got. And no more.

Jesse washed her face, brushed her teeth. She grabbed her toothbrush as she left the bathroom.

Bucky was standing with Natasha by the couch; they both turned to stare at her as she came out.

“Sorry,” Jesse said. She put a hand to her stomach, hoping the insinuation of nausea would ward off further questions.

It did.

“Ready?” Natasha asked.

“One sec.” Jesse ducked back into the bedroom and grabbed her backpack. She glanced one last time around the room; the shirt she’d worn was still on the pillow, waiting for Bucky to wash away all evidence of her.

She pressed a hand to her mouth, sucked in a final breath, and left.

“I’m ready,” she told Natasha. She didn’t look at Bucky.

“Good,” Natasha said. She pushed herself off the couch and went straight for the door.

Jesse paused in front of the couch. She glanced up just far enough to see Bucky’s chin. “Bye, Bucky.”

“Hey,” he protested, grabbing her arm. She winced; he’d bruised her badly last night, though no marks had formed yet. “Shit, I’m sorry.” His hand slid down to her wrist; goosebumps ran down her arm in its wake. “Listen…”

Jesse finally looked Bucky in the face. He was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Her eyes fixed on his mouth until he let out a sigh and glanced over towards Natasha. Jesse’s jaw ticked, and she looked away.

“Take care of yourself, Jesse,” Bucky said at last. He dropped her wrist. She forced a smile as her stomach dropped.

“I’ll do my best.”

Jesse followed Natasha out. She didn’t look back, not even when the door shut.

“Listen,” Natasha said in the elevator down, “as secure as his place seems, it’s got nothing to the safehouse. You’ll be perfectly safe.”

“Sure.” Jesse stared at the floor, eyes blurring.

Whatever Natasha thought, Jesse couldn’t imagine feeling safer outside of the city. However temporary, Bucky’s place had felt like her home. Bucky felt like home. That aborted moment when he’d pressed his forehead to hers and smiled…

Jesse clenched her teeth. A black car with tinted windows waited right at the entrance. Natasha ushered Jesse into the back and followed closely, her red hair swinging against Jesse’s shoulder. Jesse didn’t recognize the driver, but Natasha ordered them to head out without preamble.

As the car peeled away from the curb, Jesse glanced back to Bucky’s building. Other buildings blocked it from view in seconds. Jesse turned and wrapped her arms around herself.

Bucky’s place was closed to her now, and she was at the mercy of strangers.

A/N: ...Sorry guys. In my defense, I did say this was a slow burn XD What did you think???

[brighteyes29]

I’ve been waiting (a Bechloe one-shot)

Summary: Beca finally realizes she should talk about something with Chloe that she should have a long time ago. (Takes place a couple days after the end of the USO tour. An AU in which Beca didn’t agree to work with DJ Khaled and went back to her old job until she finds a new one. Beca, Fat Amy and Chloe still live in the same apartment).

“Hey, you’re home.” - Chloe was glad to see the brunette coming back from work.

“Yeah, um…” - Beca replied and closed the door. “Is Fat Amy here?”

“Not yet.” - said the redhead and laid back on her bed, opening her laptop.

Beca sighed and put her jacket on the peg.

“Chloe, I… I have to tell you something.” - the DJ said without looking at Chloe. This was hard enough for her as it is.

“Can’t it wait ‘till tomorrow? It’s been a long night.” - the ginger replied, tired, typing something on her computer.

“No, um… No, it can’t.” - said Beca, making Chloe look at her with curiosity in her eyes. “Because I’m afraid that if I don’t tell you this now, I won’t be able to tell you this ever.”

“Bec, you’re scaring me. Is it something bad?” - the redhead asked, concerned.

“No, it’s just… It’s hard for me to…” - Beca didn’t know how to continue and hoped Chloe understood what she meant. The DJ was so worried about what she was going to say that she almost forgot how to speak.

“Right. Come sit here.” - the redhead patted a spot on the bed.

“N-no. I prefer standing.”

“Okay…” - Chloe stood up and approached the DJ.

“Shit, this is harder than I thought.” - Beca laughed nervously. The redhead crossed her arms.

“Bec, we don’t have all day. Amy will be home soon.” - Beca nodded, looking at her feet. “Beca, look at me.” - Chloe lifted the brunette’s chin. Beca almost forgot was she was about to say, looking into those eyes.

“No. Don’t do that.” - The DJ broke the eye contact and took a step back. Chloe sighed. “This is hard enough for me as it is.”

“Beca, you’re worrying me. You’ve never acted like this before.” - The ginger said with concerned voice. “Wait… You haven’t murdered anyone, have you?” - She joked.

“Haha, very funny.” - Beca replied sarcastically.

“I’m just trying to make you feel more comfortable. You seem… on edge.” - Chloe pointed out.

“Yeah, well, I am.” - The brunette smiled nervously.

“So what did you want to talk about?” - Chloe asked, recovering the previous distance between her and Beca. The brunette gulped after she accidentally looked into Chloe’s eyes. She shouldn’t have.

“Okay, but before I begin, I should warn you that after I tell you this, you’ll probably think that I’m the biggest asshole on Earth.” - Beca said.

“Don’t worry, Bec. You’re too small to be the biggest asshole on Earth.” - Chloe joked again, smiling. Beca gave her a look. “Sorry. What I meant to say is, don’t worry. Nothing could ever make me think that you’re an asshole.”

“You’ll take this back later.” - The brunette said, breaking the eye contact again. Chloe recovered it by lifting Beca’s chin up again.

“I won’t. And you know I rather you look me in the eye when we talk.” - The redhead replied, pulling her hand away.

“Okay, so… First of all I want to say that I’m very happy that you and New York are together.”

“Again, his name is Chicago, but thanks.” - Chloe sighed.

“But, you know, I’m also… Not so happy.” - Beca replied, afraid of how will Chloe react to this.

“Why? Why would you say something like that?” - The redhead crossed her arms.

“Because… I want to be him.” - Beca said, hoping that the other woman can’t hear how fast her heart was beating.

“Oh.” - Chloe said. Awkward silence followed, but thanks to Beca it was short-lived:

“Look, I’ve been in love with you for like, five years and I know I should have said something earlier, but I was scared you wouldn’t feel the same.”

“You what?!” - Chloe yelled. “I’ve been dropping you the most obvious hints for five years and now you say you were afraid I wouldn’t feel the same?!”

“Chloe, I thought you were mes-“

“No, don’t even try to tell me that you thought I was messing with you. You know I wouldn’t do that.” - the redhead continued yelling. “And when I’m finally in a relationship since… I don’t know since when, you decide that it’s the best time to tell me this?! And for fuck’s sake, you were with Jesse!”

“I was with him only because I thought it would help me get over you! Now stop yelling!” - Beca yelled back.

“You are yelling too!” - Chloe pointed at the other woman.

“Yeah, only because you are!” - Beca replied. She then realized they haven’t broken the eye contact once since the last time. It reminded her of their fight on the Bellas retreat.

“Look, I can’t be with you!” - Chloe said with the same tone as before.

“Why not?!”

“Because I’m happy with him!”

“You’ll be happier with me!” - Beca came closer to Chloe. Now only an inch divided their faces. The brunette closed the gap with a passionate kiss on Chloe’s lips, but Chloe pulled back almost immediately after.

“You know, it’s funny.” - the redhead scoffed and crossed her arms. “This comes from the person that was making me miserable for the past five years.”

“I am so sorry, Chloe.” - Beca said with the most sincere voice she was capable of.

“I’m sorry too.” - Chloe replied, now calmer. “Because we could’ve spent those five years together. We wasted so much time.”

“We can be together now.” - the brunette put a hand on Chloe’s arm.

“I can’t do this to Chicago. He’s been nothing but good to me.”

“I understand. You know what, I’ll go for a walk. To clear my head.” - Beca tried to turn around and leave, but Chloe caught her hand.

“Fuck it. I’ve been waiting for this for far too long.” - The redhead said.

“But?” - Beca asked, sensing that Chloe was going to say something more.

“There’s no “but.”” - The ginger pulled the other woman into another kiss.

Okay, I’ll probably publish this on fanfiction.net as well, but it was easier posting it here first... So, I hope you liked this one-shot :)

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Heated ~ Stan Uris

A/n: First story of our special 48 hours birthday celebration!! Thanks @campcampie it meant so much to get a response so fast!!

Request: “hey!! can i get a stan uris x reader where like they get in a fight and stan goes to apologize and they make up(OuT) lmao but like angsty then like fluffy with a dash of smut? if not that’s ok! if so, thank you!!” You’re welcome! Haha. Hope you enjoy!!

warnings: some smut, some angst, some fluff. All Stan *finger guns* Aged up Stan (bc it’s smut so obviously), Jesse Eisenberg as per usual!

Word Count: 3784

MASTERLIST

College was fucking hard, okay?

The people were far more pleasant than school before this had been, with them all wanting to be here since they had paid and had goals and all that. The hours were easier too, spaced out so that there was plenty of breathing room and time to get everything done and turned in. The problem was that there was a lot more work, and it was a lot harder. It was exhausting, as well, to add on top of that load having a job so you could, like, you know, support yourself. It wasn’t until they GOT into college that “broke college student” stopped being funny. It was fun and the people were fantastic, which was actually a HUGE stress reliever, but seriously the work load!

With everything else going on, there wasn’t even a slim hope to try and fit actual time for Stan and Y/n to keep their relationship GOIKG his they had before. They had known of each other since they were children - no one went unnoticed in such a small town as Derry. They didn’t start talking until Senior year though after they picked each other for a project because everyone else in their class was either stuck up or seemingly brainless. Or Bill Denbrough, who had come over to try and partner up with Stan. At the time, the Losers had kind of fallen out and Stan wasn’t in the mood for the forced, awkward pleasantness as Bill tried to repaired there friendship three years after everyone kind of moved on. He had been rushed and had leaned over to Y/n, who was one of the few people immediately around him that he imagined he could at all tolerate.

It had taken until the end of the year to be really close, comfortable friends. They threw their lot in with luck and applied to some of the same colleges. When they had gotten into the same ones, they figured they might as well go together. That summer, their crushes on each other were exposed when Y/n determined Stan was a lost cause and went on another date with someone else. It had taken Y/n more than a few minutes to figure out why Stan wouldn’t talk to her the next day, immediately reassuring him that nothing had happened since she had it bad for someone else. They’d gone on a few dates and by mid-summer they were full on dating.

Then Summer had ended and they had started college, officially a month into their relationship. Right in time for them to develop a real, full kind of love, they suddenly had no time for each other. They had been so exhausted every spare moment they didn’t have between school, homework, or work that when they did get together to even watch a movie they ended up falling asleep on the couch, tangled up in each other. They treasured those moments because it was as close they could get to really BEING together. But it wasn’t enough. Y/n wanted to see his face and hear his voice and hear about what had been happening in his life. Stan wanted to hold Y/n’s hand and kiss her- things you could only do in person. He wanted to hear her commentary that made every movie a hundred times funnier and shit talk about professors or students that pissed him off.

To say the least, the distance was taking a toll.

One day, Stan had the day off. He had crammed the night before to get all of his homework done, asking one of his co-workers to take his shift because his professor had canceled today’s class for the first time ever and he wanted to have a romantic night with his girlfriend. His co-workers, who had heard about Stan’s struggles with having time together with his girl and shipped them hardcore were only too eager to let him have the day off - especially since he was the one they always picked up theirs shifts when they needed him to.

So, he woke up early to make Y/n breakfast, waking her with a kiss as he scooped her up and pulled her out of bed aggressively, laughing as she groaned in protest. She cheered up instantly when he sat her at the table so they could have breakfast together for the first time in a while. When she left for her classes, he cleaned house to pass the time. It had been a while before either of them had had the energy to do a deep, proper clean. She came back for lunch in her free time to see Stan dancing around to music. She laughed and he turned, grinning when he saw her.

She was groggy and a little frazzled. “Let me make lunch,” he insisted.

“You made breakfast,” she argued.

He leaned down, kissing her passionately. He leaned away, humming as a smile tugged on both of their lips. “You’re exhausted and I’m not- let me take care of you.

She smiled, melting down into her chair. “If you insist,” she gunned softly. He made food quickly, knowing that she had to go back to class soon and they sat together, him reminding her every so often so she knew class was soon.

That’s when it began. Him hurrying to make her food, trying to keep her in the chair, hurrying her out of the house. He was just trying to take care of her but maybe because she was so tired and stressed, it didn’t sit right with her. She felt paranoia picking at her but she pushed it aside, running a hand through her hair and taking a deep breath. She would not ruin this with stupid anxieties that Stan would eat mad at her for even thinking for a second. Rightfully so too.

He let her go so she’d be on time, taking her dishes for her. They shared another kiss and this time her pulled him closer by the back of his neck, keeping him close. She deepened the kiss and he returned her passion fully. It started to get heated before he pulled away, blinking hard. “Lover Mine,” he breathed. “You have class.”

She sighed. “Okay okay, later.”

He grinned. “Later.”

Y/n went to the rest of her classes and then headed straight to work. After her long hours she was worn thin by exhaustion and as she headed home, she smiled I herself at the thought of being reunited with Stan. He had been so attentive today. She had noticed his cleaning and felt a little bad because most of it was her fault, really. Stan was quite neat. She bit her lip, knowing she’d probably go home to a made bed and ruining it the second she got in, needing to be tangled in the sheets to ever get comfortable- probably pulling off the sheets in the process.

One of the first things that had put a block in their relationship was that Y/n was kind of messy. Just a little above average, where she had to tidy up a bit every week to keep the chaos confined. And even then, her backpack and car and desk was cluttered and crammed in an organized chaos that made Stan sick. Stan, who was a neat freak, and Y/n, who was a little messy. It had created tension.

She thought about how she’d go home to his clean house, sitting in his clean clothes with a serene, calm smile. She looked around her car. Her dirty clothes from school had a visible food stain on it from some snack she’d stolen from one of her super close school friends as a joke- thrown in a crumpled pile in the back seat. She looked at her shoes, crushed with dirt and grime. She looked at the cracked leather of the seats and the filthy windows she’d never found the time or energy to get cleaned at a car wash. She looked at all the food wrappers and food containers and scattered, crumpled up calls of old tests and homework she wanted to forever forget. Crumbs and pencils and highlight tees and pen and her work schedule. Speaking of work...

She currently sat with her hair pinned up under her dirty work hat, her shirt stained with sweat and her pants chafing horribly against her skin.

Like a truck going full speed down the highway hitting her full on, Y/n realized with horror how GROSS she was. She couldn’t move, thinking about taking herself unfit their clean apartment Stan had worked on and enjoyed all day. She’d probably throw her clothes on the floor, making Stan scrunch his nose in disgust. He hated riding in the car with her. They had gotten separate cars because they had such different schedules leading them to such different places... or maybe he just hated how disgustingly unorganized and gross her car was. The smell of fast food and sweat and stale air hit her and she snapped.

Her hands flew to her face as everything hit her at once and she started crying. Sobbing. Loudly in a really UGLY kind of way. She sat there shaking and hysterically losing her mind. All she wanted to do was go inside and take a shower and cuddle with Stan or just be with him in any way - every way - he would let her. She wanted to get into her car tomorrow and have it be as clean as she imagined his was. Fresh and shampooed and not a sign of chaos or mess. She wanted to be with him and feel good enough for him, after all he’s done on his day off.

Stan could have slept in. He could have slept and been lazy the day before and done his homework today and then gone to work instead of taking risks with the money, even though Stan had it figured out to make sure there was nothing to worry about because he was Stan and he didn’t want anything to go wrong or have any negative taint on today. Today that was supposed to be as perfect as their college life would allow. Perfect Stan, with his kind eyes and gorgeous smile and pristine cleanliness.

Her phone rang. She jumped and looked over, recoiling when she saw Stan’s name across the Caller ID bar. She covered her face again, her breaths coming shorter and faster as her chest compressed and her stomach twisted. She was disgusted with herself and he would be too. He would take one look at her and use her into the shower, just like he’s rushed her out of the house and kept her in one place. He didn’t want her to mess up his clean perfection.

The phone went off again. And again. And again. Stan called a fifth time before he went to texts, where he left five more before he gave up altogether. He began to worry, pacing back and forth upstairs with worry as the dinner he had meticulously set up to be as romantic as possible so that they could eat and talk before he’d take her to the shower since he knew that after busy days like today she hated how dirty she felt and would want to be clean before doing anything else. And, if he was honest, he was in a clean mood and didn’t want to be with her when she smelled like fast food if there was a better option. He would cuddle with her in her work clothes but he would prefer not to.

He moved to the table, looking at the beautiful candles and delicious food and the low light room that set a very distinct mood before huffing with anxiety, moving to the window to fiddle with the curtains. Maybe she had gotten in a wreck, or gotten run over? Maybe she was cheating on him? Maybe she was exhausted and had fallen asleep at a desk or in her car? Maybe she-

Maybe she was sitting in the parking lot, completely awake as she leisurely sat at the wheel of her car, just... sitting, from what he could see. His brain filled in the missing information and he swore he saw her on her phone, scrolling. Stalling.

Was spending time with him SO bad? After all he’s done today, she was just going to sit in the car and waste time? They both had to be asleep soon for school tomorrow and then their night together would be wasted. Wasn’t he more important than whatever the hell she was doing right now?!

Eventually Y/n pulled herself together, wiping her face and closing her eyes, running a hand through her hair as she opened the door to her car, trying to calm herself down from the things she KNEW weren’t true. She would shower and they would be together and it would all be better- she could worry about her messy lifestyle another time. Stan was waiting and despite how much she hated it, they were on a clock. When Stan saw her get out of the far he withdrew from the window, storming over to the table to blow out the candles, leaving he food on the table. It was probably cold, he realized. Cold and gross. Wasted.

When Y/n made her way into the apartment, she smiled, smelling the food and knowing Stan was waiting for her. She noticed the dim lighting and saw the candles on the table and all her anxiety and stress melted away as she nearly cried again just out of how much she absolutely adored Stan.

And then Stan appeared.

“Hey,” she greeted softly, smiling as she approached him.

He pulled away, still upset she hadn’t been as excited as he was. He would have RUN up here. But no, she wasted time in the car and now their food was gross and his mood was ruined and he didn’t want to be touched while he was mad. “Hi,” he returned shortly, crossing his arms over his chest.

She looked hurt, the thoughts of him being disgusted with her gross state hitting her hard again. He was just as repulsed as she knew he’d be. She’d been RIGHT. He just thought she was upset because he’d pulled away and he took a deep breath to try and calm down. They could talk after she’d had a second to wind down from her long day. Maybe she had a reason. I mean he knew she loved him, so he was probably just being needy since he wanted her so much. It was fine. “Why don’t you go shower?” He sighed, turning a soft smile towards her as he relaxed his body. “I know you’ve had a long day, it’ll make you feel better.”

Take a shower.

Take a shower?

He was rubbing salt in a wound she had inflicted on herself, on accident, and now she was upset. Not sad or self loathing or regretful like in the car. MAD. Mad that he had been as stupid and had drawn such a dumb line between them. Why couldn’t he just hug her? Kiss her? Was being dirt SO FUCKING TERRIBLE?

“God Stan you’re such a dick,” she spat as she turned toward the shower, coming to the conclusion but not explaining how she had gotten there.

Stan completely lost it. “I’M a dick?” He hissed, causing her to turn around because she didn’t want an angry anyone somewhere she couldn’t see and defend herself if things got too bad.

Squaring her shoulders, she looked up at him. He was a little taller than her and she stared him down without breaking. They were both exuding anger now in waves, both able to feel it and feeding off of each other. “Yeah,” She seethed back towards him. “You’re so- god! I walk in the door and you won’t even greet me?!”

“Jesus Christ, Y/n, you’re such a ducking hypocrite!” He yelled, his arms calling to his side as he stepped closer to her. “You sit in the car, wasting time for us to be together after so long of everything getting in the way and I’m not allowed to be mad-“ he began, fuming.

Y/n scoffed viciously, almost snarling. “You’re not even-“ she stumbled, angry that he had seen her and not come to check on her. Angry that he was poking at an open wound. Angry angry ANGRY!

Stan cut her off. “I worked my ass off all day to make this day perfect and you wasted precious time SITTING IN YOUR CAR, and now I’M a sick because I suggested you take a shower?!”

“Oh GEEZ,” Y/n screamed back, stepping back in disbelief. “I get it you cleaned the house, Stan. Let me excuse myself and just clean myself so you don’t have to deal with my unbearable filth!”

Shocked by her words, Stan just stood there as she retreated to their room and the attached bathroom. “F-“ he cut off, hating to not have the last word in an argument but also trying to process a phrase so similar to things she’d brought up in last arguments before. “FINE!” He yelled instead, storming over to slam their bedroom door close when she went through. He stroked over to the couch, kicking it before he bang lacing to try and think and calm down. He finally settled for going on a short walk to really tire himself out after being inside all day, even if just while she took a shower.

When he came back, the house was dark and quiet. Y/n badly cleaned the table off and he checked the fridge, a soft smile resting on his face as he saw them all neatly piled and tucked into the fridge in separate Tupperware containers like he had had to train her to do.

Walking had cleared his head and he’d realized that she was having anxiety about her messiness again. She’d had breakdowns about it a few times after Stan had shown a tendency to be such a neat freak, sometimes making comments about her dirtiness before he got over himself a little and learned to live with it and keep calm and compromise. He realized she must have been crying in the cara Nd after her long day, he felt terrible for making it worse.

He moved into the bedroom, looking for her. When he saw her form in the bed, he leaned against the doorway, sighing softly. She didn’t respond. “Y/n?” He called gently. “Hey I’m sorry about yelling at you. I just wanted to see you SO badly it was killing me. I’ve been counting down the hours until I got to be with you tonight. Just you and me. I’ve missed you so much and I didn’t realize... why you were upset.” Still no response. “Look, I don’t care about you being dirty. I just wanted you to know that’s not why I was mad or distancing myself. That would never come in between me kissing you. Greeting you.” Still no response. “I love you Y/n.” Nothing. Stan sighed. “I know you’re awake Y/n. You take long showers, and on top of that you took time to clean up dinner so you can’t have been in bed for more than a minute.” Nada. He shook his head. “Fine. I’ll take the couch. Goodnight, I love you.” And then he left.

Y/n rolled out of bed, unable to be away from him any longer and feeling a lot better now that’s she’d showered. She threw open the door. “Stan wait.”

He turned and she immediately collided into him, her hands wrapping around the back of his neck to pull him down to her. Their lips met heatedly, the air coming alive with pops and cracks thy couldn’t see or hear but felt no less. One of his hands wrapped around her wrist, the other dipping down to grip her waist. He stepped her backwards, pressing her against her wall. She wanted to apologize. Wanted to tell him she loved him too. But too soon they were lost in each other and it just stopped mattering. Stan knew, without her having to speak, and they had both pushed it aside with a silent promise not to waste any more time.

The hand of his on her waist rose, sliding up her side to rest against her ribs, slipping under her shirt. Her teeth caught his bottom lip and pulled and he groaned softly, pressing his body into hers more to get some pressure where he needed her. All the time apart and boiling emotions had lead them to one place and now all of either of them could think about was being with each other in one way only.

Y/n’s fingers tugged at his collar and they separated so he could tug off his shirt, her biting her lip as she watched. He then smiled, reaching to take her shirt off as well.

“Beautiful,” he whispered dreamily, lips rushing to meet the skin on her neck. His hands now found hold under her thighs, pulling her up his body as her legs wrapped around his waist. Her hands went into his hair, head head tilting back against the wall, eyes closing as he kissed and sucked at her hot skin, sending waves of warm pleasure through her body as she shivered under the fire his attention ignited. She rolled her hips into his and he gasped, moving away from the wall to carry her to their room, their shirts discarded and forgotten on the floor.

Stan lay her carefully on the bed, crawl in over her. “So beautiful,” he fawned, ginger tracing the slowly forming, new bruises on her neck that he had just created. He leaned close, kissing her hard.

As he began kissing her skin again, her hands returning to their favorite place in his curly, soft hair, she smiled, humming softly as he made a pathway down her throat and chest toward her stomach. “Thank you for today, Stan. It was honestly perfect. I love you too.”

He looked up at her with a grin. Their argument seemed so silly now. Their doubts and anxieties and angers. It seemed so stupid that they had prolonged this much awkward moment. “Anything for you, Lover Mine,” he purred in that voice he knew drove her crazy. Then his hands found the waistband of her pants, pulling, and the real highlight of the night began.