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winchesterxxi · 3 years

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Urges of the Subconscious (Din Djarin x Reader) | PART 1

Gif by @keanurevees

Rating: E (Explicit)

Type: Smut

Pairing: Din Djarin x AFAB!Reader

Summary: Stationed in Tatooine for the night, courtesy of Peli Motto, you and Din are forced to share a room. Thinking that it was more than obvious that the two of you weren’t together, you both expected to find two separate beds - that didn’t quite happen. Sleeping next to the person you’ve been having dreams about for a while now leads to some unconscious shuffling closer to each other - culminating in quite the interesting morning.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: One bed trope, SMUT (wet dream, rubbing, blindfold, nipple play/breast play, fingering)

A/N: I haven’t written for Din in so long, god, I missed my favorite bucket-head. This is also a long one because my gears are oiled and working, so bear with me. Also, part 2? 👀

Buy me a Kofi!

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When Din had told you that there was a fault in the differential and exhaust manifold of the Razor, you knew that meant a trip down to Tattooine. You weren’t particularly excited about it – the scorching hot weather mixed with the sandy landscape always made you feel gross and heavy, sensations that you weren’t particularly fond of.

The child on the other hand, at the mention of a need for repairs, cooed in excitement, eager to encounter his adored Peli Motto, who he seems to have absolutely smitten. Nothing wrong with that, in fact, it was nice to see the kid being in someone else’s arms without fearing for his life.

Down on the rocky ground in front of her secluded shop, Peli looks up at the shadow that suddenly allocated itself in front of the sun, only to adjust her vision and catch the Razor Crest slowly descending closer, until its landing skids contacted the red ground and the large cargo ramp started to lower itself.

Into her vision came what she secretly nicknamed as “The Space Family”: You, with the baby in your left arm, and the imponent Mandalorian just a couple of feet behind, a gothic painting, some would say one that was slowly making their way towards her.

“We brought the Child!” You amusingly exclaimed, grinning as her smile immediately grew and the child was already trying to wiggle out of your embrace.

“Easy there!” she exclaimed as the child cooed and babbled in her arms, content with the reunion

“How much do you want for it?” she asks you “Just kidding. But not really.”

“The kid’s still not for sale. But I have a few repairs that need to be done.” Din intervenes. You know he isn’t being purposefully stern, but the man could sure use some lessons on loosening up and being able to understand a joke.

“Always a pleasure to talk with you, Mandalorian.” Peli greets with an expressionlessly sarcastic face that falls upon her as soon as she looks up from the child “Point me in the direction.”

After a close inspection alongside the Mandalorian, they both returned to where you and the child stood before he reached for Peli once again and you laughed at his tiny attachment problem.

“ I can get you out of here tomorrow at around noon.”

“Noon? Peli, we can’t stay overnight. People need us.”

“People can wait. Can’t they?” She asks the question in a higher-pitched voice directed towards the kid who she bops in the nose before turning back to you and Din. “And sure you can! There’s a small holsterly just a few miles down the sand, an hour walk and you’ll be fine.”

“We only have credits for the maintenance.” Says Din from your right side.

Peli is about to throw a quick answer, as she always does, but something stops her. She closes her mouth and looks down at Grogu, who happily jiggles the tiny ball between his fingers. She smirks and looks up at you two again, adjusting the kid in her embrace.

“Tell you what. You let me take care of the kid for the night, you two go and have some rest, Maker knows you need it… and the maintenance is on me.”

“We’re not leaving –“ the Mandalorian starts but you quickly cut him off, placing a firm hand on his whistling bird, settling him.

“Deal.”

“Wh- What?” He shakes his helmet in your direction.

“Come on.” You tug him along your side, heavy beskar boots reluctant to move, as you wave back at Grogu and Peli who is smiling like two children who will, more than definitely, be up to no good in the following hours.

But he knows better than to make a scene with you when you are playing nice. So he waits until the pair that was left behind to be out of sight to pull you by your elbow to face him.

“Are you out of your mind?”

“No, but we are almost out of credits.” You reason with him, picking up on his sentence. “Din, she did a nice thing… not all people are out to get you.” Your voice is calm, and it takes all of your strength not to reach out and touch him, maybe caress the helmet of his cheek, or his hand. But he’s who he is, and you don’t want to cross any lines.

His towering figure lets go of your elbow and he walks ahead through the sand, talking over his shoulder.

“This is the first and last time we’re doing this.”

You grin and bit your bottom lip behind him, feeling victorious from having him wrapped around your finger in situations like this, before speeding your own stride to catch up to him, feeling the heat reflected on his beskar hit your skin.

It was a small inn, there was no doubt, more like a one night resting home for the looks of it, the offer ranging little above a few sleeping quarters along a hall and a shared bathroom at the end of it.

Once unlocking the wooden door, you and Din stepped into the now moonlit room, which ended up being more spacious than anticipated.

With Din closing the door and locking it once again, your eyes scan around the carved walls and the big window, the tapestry on the floor and then – the bed. The only bed. Not even a couch on the other end of the room. Only a bed.

Din seems to have noticed it too as you feel him come to a halt right behind you, helmet turning to scan the room.

“Why would they give us only one bed? I specifically said it was a two people bedroom.” You can feel his aggrieved tone sip through the helmet, frustrated with the situation.

“Two people. Not two beds.” You scoff and he looks at you, causing you to look away and avert your smile from his field of vision – how unskilled Din was with such mundane tasks always amused you. “I’m afraid this one’s on you Din Djarin.”

You walk over to the bed and start to peel the layers of your leather uniform, down to your undershirt and panties.

“Woah, what are you doing?” Din asks you, turning his helmet away once his helmet falls upon your bare legs.

“Getting to bed. You should too.” You state in a deadpan voice, before sliding your legs underneath the cotton sheet and laying your head in the fluffy pillow – something you haven’t had in months.

“No, yeah, I can see that! But I-… do you… Are you…?” he stumbles over his words, awkwardly still standing in the middle of the room at the bottom of the bed.

“Din, rest. Come on, it’s not every day you have a real bed to lay on.” The man huffs and walks over to your opposite side of the bed, before pulling the covers back, getting ready to seat down, before you shoot up on your elbow.

“Aren’t you going to take the armour off?”

“Why would I? Hostile planet, unknown people sleeping next door. Peli might contact us at any minute.” He has a big list of reasons, and he could more than definitely go on, but something in the way you are looking at him through the visor stops him.

“Din. Nothing bad is going to happen for one night.” Your eyes were honest and they pierced his soul melting his insides and kicking his usual hunter instinct out the window.

Not being able to resist, he drops his shoulders and sighs, before reaching for his chest pauldron and unclasping it while you grin victoriously.

“The helmet stays on.” He warns you, while pieces upon pieces of beskar and leather fall to the ground, placed against the foot of the bed until he is in nothing besides his fitted undersuit and beskar helmet.

Reaching for the covers once again, Din finally sleeps into the bed and as soon as his back hits the mattress he releases a quiet grown and you chuckle.

“Better?” you ask him, face turned his way and cocking your eyebrow up.

“Better.” This time, to your surprise, he’s the one that chuckles, the vibration of the modulated sound going straight to your stomach.

“Goodnight Din.” You whisper, turning your back to him and placing your body in your preferred position to sleep. With one look at you, the only nothing he can now see is the moonlit outline of your curves as your ribcage rises and falls at the rhythm of your quiet breath.

He’d be damned if anything happened to you. For as paranoid as he was the possibility of someone breaking in at the dead of the night and harming you, stopped him from turning his back to you and instead, settling with his chest up to the ceiling, helmet turned in your direction.

“Goodnight.”

For the first time in Maker knows how long, both you and Din managed to sleep during a full night with no sudden wake up calls or alarms beeping around. It was nice, he had to admit. So nice, that his body got a little too comfortable, his hands in his slumber reaching for your body and your own figure, unconsciously draw to his embrace let itself be held by him during the long hours of the dark – none of you being aware of such.

But somewhere along that time, in the wee small hours of the morning, your body rotated in his arms, back to his slowly moving chest and his hands, unbothered, had to keep touching you, they had to make sure you were there, hence gently palming your right boob.

It wasn’t until you felt an involuntary squeeze of his bare hands against your tunic, a definite sleep spasm that you were pulled awake and made aware of the situation.

Heat flooded your whole body once you realized the compromising position you both found yourselves in. Gently humming Din’s name, you don’t dare to move his arm, being very aware of his hunter instincts.

“Din.” You repeat again, this time louder and the man behind you hums. At the same time as the sound leaves his lungs, his fingers squeeze yet again. You suck in a breath and bite your bottom lip, preventing any sort of moan from escaping.

Din groans once, the sleep still gripping his system but he must’ve soon realized where his hand was, forearm trapped beneath your weight as he quickly pulls it away, sitting up straight in the bed.

“Kriff. I’m so sorry, I didn’t intend to-“ His chest is rising and lowering heavy, and you can see a hint of the red skin that heats on his neck and upper chest.

“It’s alright, I know.”

A heavy silence hangs in the air, you having since sat up in bed, back against the headboard, only your breathings and and heavy tension floating in the air. You were pretty sure your cheeks were still pink, as they still felt hot.

“I don’t want you to think that I wanted to do anything to you. I would never.” He says, coming off harsher than intended. It’s not that he didn’t want to be with you, Maker, he did, he had fallen head over heels a long time ago… But, maybe you didn’t feel that way. You were too good for him, anyway. A puddle of light in his life that he didn’t want to corrupt with his own being.

“Would it be so bad?” You whisper, afraid that he really didn’t want anything to do with you, slightly hurt by the words he’d just said.

Silence remains and you look to your side only to find the beskar helmet turning in your direction, your hopeful eyes and hung mouth pleading for a genuine answer.

Feeling bold, you reach for his bare hand that rested against the mattress and hold it up to where it was before and he is silently following your actions, but you can feel his muscles tensing at your actions.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” His voice is strained as he looks away but dares not to move his hand.

“Din. Please.” You whisper in a broken voice and that’s all it takes for his helmet to return to face you.

“If I start, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop.”

“I don’t want you to.”

There is a moment there. One of silence, but that was heavy with unsaid words. A look into your eyes was all it took him to pull your hips gently down and lay you back on the soft mattress while his body shifted to be above you.

His rough fingers gently tugged at one of the straps of your tunic before pulling it down and off your arm, same as with the other one that followed, leaving the thin fabric still splayed over your chest, from where he could now see the hard buds straining through.

Your breathing deepened and you could feel heat pool at your core, shifting your thighs closer together, an action that didn’t go unnoticed to the masked man above you as your knees brushed his crotch.

“Mesh’la.” He whispers, looking down your body, his erection pressing against the fabric of his confined pants.

Putting all of his weight on his elbows, the Mandalorian slides the fabric of your tunic down, revealing your swollen breasts, courtesy of the arousal he was fabricating in you. His fists curled at the sudden need that he had, one that he couldn’t fulfil if there was the possibility of you seeing his face.

Sitting back on his knees, he reaches out to the floor on his side of the bed, where he remembers to have discarded his armour and other layers the night before. When he sits back up, you can see that he is holding one of his undershirts, the one that went directly under the leather layer, made of a soft black fabric.

He motions it towards your head as if asking for permission to put it around your head and all you can do is nod while bitting your bottom lip, eager to give in to the pleasure he intended to deliver.

You lift your head from where it was resting against the pillow and his gentle hands tie the fabric around your eyes, making sure that it was tight enough for it not to slip, but not too much so that it would hurt you.

In the darkness that you found yourself surrounded by, all your other senses tingled in anticipation, especially your touch and hearing as from somewhere lower above you, a hissing sound filled the air, followed by that of metal being placed on wood.

Still sitting on his knees, his eyes could now see you in all of your glory, without the darkening of the helmet. And you were a sight to behold. Hair splayed around your head on the pillow, lips parted in anticipation, breasts aching for him. To the latter he gave in first, lowering himself to attach his lips to your left nipple, his breath fanning over it for a moment before diving in.

You suck in a sharp breath and moan at his action, while one of his hands finds your free nipple, not wanting it to go unattended.

“Din, that feels so good.” Your head lifts up and then drops with a small thud against the pillow taking in shallow and quick breaths as his fingers and tongue continued to tease your sensitive buds.

His mouth and hands were equally skilled, the latter, rolling your bud between his thumb and forefinger, as quick jolts of pain and pleasure rushed through every nerve in your body.

He stayed there for a long time, switching sides every now and then, mouth sucking and tongue lapping and brushing against your nipples.

He sucked and moaned around it every time his tongue stroked the tip of your nipple and your hands fumbled between grabbing the sheets below you or his soft hair, body arching up wanting more. More of him, more of that sensation, just more.

With your tunic still draped over your torso the one hand of Din’s that wasn’t supporting his weight travels down to your core, thick fingers brushing against your clit and soon after trailing a path up your dripping slit, moaning when his digits became wet.

“Did that make you wet, cyar’ika? You like it when I play with your nipples?” his husky voice sent waves of arousal up your body.

“Yes, Din, you’re so good at it, please.” You reach your hand down to palm at his erection “I need you, please.”

Gently he grabs your hand from his crotch and places it down next to your head. “Next time. We need to get going in a few if we don’t want to burn under the midday sun. But I can still make you feel good.”

You moaned at his willingness to prioritize your pleasure over his, going as far as denying himself of an orgasm at this crucial moment, which would have him frustrated until the next time you could be alone together again.

His lips return to your nipples and, at the same time, he slides two digits inside your aching cunt, the warmth and clenching around his skin making him whimper around your nipple, making the pleasure skyrocket on your part.

The outer rim of his free hand now rested against the mound that was free from his mouth’s hold, as his middle finger flicked up and down against the tip of your nipple, making you cry out in pleasure as it synched perfectly with his ministrations against and inside your core.

It was all too much, and tears pooled at the outer corners of your eyes, leaving an eventual wet trail behind as they ran down your cheeks, until being soaked by his shirt that rested around your eyes.

Your body convulsed under his frame, arching against him as a wave of white pleasure washing over you like never before, the joined ecstasy of his two places of stimulation pushing you with full force over the edge you were chasing.

Din rode your high until he felt you could no more, never for once slowing his movement in between your legs as your cum dripped down his fingers and into his palm, and making the most of your sensitive nipples by bringing both your breasts together with his large hand, positioning them in a way that both nipples were almost touching, allowing him to lick and suck at the two simultaneously.

Once your body is spent and limp, chest rising and falling trying to catch your breath and trying to drive some oxygen up to your brain as you felt like being high, Mando finally lifts his face up to your own and, for the first time lets his lips latch onto something other than your chest. The kiss is deep and wet, his tongue roaming your lips before exploring your mouth.

Din then sits back up on his knees, chuckling as your head followed his once your lips parted, not wanting to separate just yet.

His bare hand reaches to the side table where he’d laid the helmet and puts it back on, coming away from straddling you and rather returning to his side of the bed, pulling you in by your waist to his side and sliding the shirt up from around your eyes

He watches you smile, still in the aftereffects of your orgasm.

“Hey.” You muse up at him.

“Hey.” He answers, the helmet preventing you from seeing the lopsided smile that adorned his beautiful face.

“That was…”

“I know.” He completes your thought.

“Was it so bad, after all?” You close your eyes as the question leaves your lips, the exhaustion of this morning activity starting to wash over you.

“Not even close.”

As if on cue, the first ray of sunshine makes its way through the window glass and you know that it means you need to get dressed and out of this place. Din notices it as well, patting your side before slinging his legs over the edge of the bed and standing up.

“Come one, mesh’la. We need to go.”

“I know.” You groan up to the air. “But this is so comfortable.”

“The faster we get there, the faster we can go into the Razor and the closer we are to putting Grogu asleep.” He tells you, hands on his hips, a teasing tone on his voice and damn it, he got you good.

“I hate that you know me so well.” You huff with a smile, crawling up to his side of the bed so that you’re on your knees on top of the mattress, still, he towers over you.

“Can’t wait to know all of you.” He whispers as his helmet comes closer down your face and his hands travel to your waist. He then gives it a little squeeze before patting your ass. “Come on now, let’s go. I have a feeling someone is waiting to make grabby hands at us.”

“I was about to say you have a stationed ship waiting to take off, but I’m glad to see you have your priorities straight.” You muse over your shoulder, walking to the small bathroom adjacent to the bedroom.

As you go, Din stays behind adoring the view of your hips swaying and ass jiggling as you walk.

“Oh, you have no idea.”

He really couldn’t wait to know all of you.

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@blondekel77 @pedrobreakmyback

DIN DJARIN TAGLIST

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#Urges of the Subconscious #din djarin #din djarin x reader #teh mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal x reader #smut #star wars #the mandalorian

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morceid · 4 years

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I Hate The Color Orange

SPENCER REID X FEM!READER

Summary: Spencer goes into work sick, and Y/N takes him home to rest.

Category: FLUFF. THE FLUFFIEST FLUFF IMAGINABLE.

Warnings: vomiting, general gross sickness, delirium, some swearing

Word Count: 2094

A/N: this is my first sickfic! i loved writing it so much! this is also my entry into @veraiconcos ‘s writer challenge. her fics are wonderful and you should check her out!

The first thing Spencer noticed when he woke up was how slow his brain was moving. It wasn’t like he couldn’t notice, especially considering how fast his mind usually worked. The second thing he noticed was the chills all over his skin even though he had multiple blankets covering his lanky body.

Despite this, he pulled the covers up and got out of bed. He began to get dizzy as his brain caught up with his body. He pushed through as much as he could. He wouldn’t skip work even if he had a concussion.

As you walked into your place of work you noticed Spencer by the coffee machine. You had been pining after the young agent for quite a while now, and no one knew. Not even the beloved tech goddess Penelope Garcia, who was also your best friend. As you looked the genius upland down you noticed the discoloration in his face. He looked like he was on the verge of becoming a zombie.

You remembered an article you read about gum helping take your mind off of throwing up because your mouth was too preoccupied with another task at hand.. Your mind was wandering to what Spencer’s mouth could do…

“Hey, do you want some gum?” The words you spoke came from your vocal cords and your mind detached them from yourself. The orange package was flipped open and your hand was reaching towards Spencer.

“No, I’m fine, thanks,” he was surprised by your gesture.

“Really? Are you? I read an article about how gum takes the idea of throwing up off of your mind because your mouth is already preoccupied.”

“How did you-”

“The orange might balance out the green tint on your face.” You explained.

“Oh, yeah I probably should take some.” He took a stick from the small box in your hands.

“Take it easy today, okay?” You hoped the concern in your voice wasn’t too obvious.

About an hour or two later you were working at your desk and felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Hey, Y/N?” Spencer was behind you when you turned around, “Do you happen to have more gum?”

“Sorry, Spence, you took the last stick.”

“Oh, that’s okay. Yeah. Yeah that’s fine.” It was not fine.

Spencer walked over to the coffee machine. His hands trembled and his eyes looked more panicked than normal as he picked up the pot of coffee. He tried pouring it and spilled it onto the counter. He put the coffee pot down and rubbed his hands over his eyes. If you were close enough, his breathing would be deep and you would see his eyes closed. He slammed his hand on the counter and ran towards the bathroom, earning a head turn from everyone in the bullpen.

“You should go check on him,” Prentiss was looking at Morgan.

“Uh uh, I do not wanna deal with a sick Reid. It’s not like he would accept care from me.” He retorted.

Before the other agents around you knew it, you were out of your seat and halfway to the gender neutral bathroom Spencer ran to.

“Spencer?” Instead of an answer you were greeted with a retching sound, “I’m coming in.”

You found Spencer hugging the porcelain toilet, which was now filled with an orange tinted vomit.

“Spencer, did you swallow the gum?”

He nodded.

“Do you need to go home?”

He moaned and nodded in response before throwing up again.

“Not yet, I guess. Are you gonna need anything to eat considering its all coming out? I can get something from Garcia’s office.”

He shook his head.

“I’ll go pack up your stuff and let Hotch know I’m taking you home.”

Normally he would begin protesting at this, but his body was shaking against the toilet and he could feel bile coming up his throat.

You walked out and told Anderson to make sure no one went into the bathroom before heading to Spencer’s desk. You picked up all the files that were laid out and evenly separated them between Emily and Morgan.

“Hey!” They exclaimed in unison.

“Sorry, guys. Spencer is sick as shit. I’m taking him home.”

“That damn pretty boy. Tell him I hope he feels better,” Morgan said, somberly taking a case file.

You hopped up the stairs two at a time going towards Hotch’s office and popped your head in.

“Hey! Spencer isn’t feeling too hot, so I’m taking him home. See you tomorrow.”

He was on the phone but he waved goodbye and mouthed to take care of him.

Next stop was Garcia’s office.

“Hey, Pen,” you said, walking in.

“Oh my god, you scared me! Anyways, what's going on?” She turned around from what looked like a horror gameplay livestream.

“Spence is sick. Like really fucked up. Do you have any ginger ale in your stash?”

She turned back to her desk and dug into her secret drawer compartment.

“Spencer should really stop working himself over. I mean, I get that all he wants is validation and praise, but c’mon, boy wonder! Your brain isn’t all that you are, you still have a human body! Gosh, he’s so pretty, but honestly- What’s that look in your eyes?” She cut off herself as she stood up from her chair.

“What? What’s what look in my eyes?”

“Oh my god, you LIKE him! Oh my god, oh my god. Give him all of the kisses in the world for me and remember to use protection-”

“Penelope Garcia!”

You tried to retaliate but she was already pushing you out of your office and telling you to “get your mans!”

You walked back to the bathroom with Spencer’s bag on one arm and yours on the other. You thanked Anderson for guarding the door and opened the door.

“Spencer I got your things, and Garcia had some ginger ale in her office if that- Spencer?”

He was passed out on the ground, clutching his stomach.

“I knew something was wrong when i stopped hearing him throw up!”

“No, Anderson, it’s not your fault. He’s probably fine, just sick. Could you help me carry him to my car? I think he took the metro today.” It would be pretty hard to carry the gangly man when you were already carrying two bags.

The journey to your car was a hassle, but that was fine. After you turned on the air conditioning Spencer woke up fairly quickly. He was confused as to why he was in your car, and you told him you were taking him home. He was too sick to be awake and too tired to care, so he fell back asleep shortly after that.

When you pulled up to his apartment he was still asleep so you gently shook him awake.

“We’re home, Spence. You need to wake up.”

“Our home?” He mumbled.

“No, silly. Your apartment.” You said, chalking it up to his sick delirium. Spencer doesn’t like you like that. Right?

He stumbled out of your car and into your arms. You held him up with your hand against his back as you walked up the stairs of his building. He leaned against a wall as you dug into his bag for the keys to his apartment.

He fell onto the couch immediately and buried his face in the pillows.

“It’s too hot! Everything is uncomfortable!” he grumbled as he started loosening his tie. He took off his button-up dress shirt to reveal a regular t-shirt he wore as an undershirt. Before he took off his pants you stopped him.

“Hey, hey, hey! Keep those on!” you said as you sat on the arm of his couch. “Drink this.” You gave him the ginger ale Penelope gave you, remembering the conversation before you left the office building.

He reluctantly turned over onto his back and took the can you left on the table.

“Thanks for the straw,” His lips puckered around the plastic tube. It made you think.

“No problem.” You pat his calf, hoping he wouldn’t pull away. He didn’t. “Is it too hot for me to lay next to you?”

“Nope,” He continued drinking the bubbly soda, pressing against the back of the sofa.

You laid in front of him but towards his face.

“Is it your tummy that’s bothering you?” You asked.

“It’s everything. I’ve had a headache all day and I keep getting flashes of hot and cold. I think that’s the first full sentence I’ve been able to get out all day,” He laughed

You reached your hand down to his stomach and pressed down.

“Is this okay?”

“It’s perfect.”

You continued to rub his stomach through his shirt. Every once in a while he let out a satisfied whimper. He asked you to put your hands under his shirt and you complied. You tried to keep the blush off of your cheeks when he asked you, but some things you just can’t help.

Spencer was asleep by the time you had realized how long you two had been sitting there. You left work at around noon and now it was four. You started to pull away from him and got up from the couch. He pulled in closer to where you were previously laying as you called Penelope.

“Hey Y/N! Since it’s been a pretty long day at work and there’s no case me and the girls are going out tonight. Wanna join?” Garcia spoke as soon as she answered your call.

“Uh, I’m not sure I'll be able to,” you whispered.

“OH MY GOD ARE YOU AT HIS APARTMENT STILL?!” Penelope yelled through the phone.

“Shh! He’s asleep on the couch.” Spencer mumbled something.

“I think you just woke him up. Gotta go.” You hung up. “Did you say something?” You moved over to the couch and rested your head in front of where his laid.

“If I asked you to stay, would you?” His eyes were still closed as he spoke.

You didn’t respond for a while and he opened his eyes, trying to gauge your reaction.

“Yes, of course, Spencer. I just canceled with the girls.” You said. There’s no way Spencer felt the way that you had for so long.

“No, no! Its not like that! I- I- Y/N!” he groaned in frustration.

“Then what is it, Spencer?” you moved his hair away from his eyes, thinking it might help him get the words out.

Instead of words Spencer leaned forward and took your face in his hands, kissing you roughly. It took you by surprise at first but after a couple seconds you leaned into it. His lips were soft and his mouth tasted like a sweet nothing. He reluctantly pulled away from you and his eyes looked watery like he was gonna cry.

“Hey. hey, hey, Spencer. It’s okay.” you ran your hands through his soft curls, “I like you too.”

“I like you so much. I just wanna cuddle with you forever.” A single tear streamed down his face.

“Oh my god, don’t cry!” you laughed out, “I’ll cuddle with you if you really want.” You climbed back onto the couch and pressed kisses onto his forehead.

You fell asleep in one another’s arms, feeling content with the world. You were no longer hiding from your feelings and instead facing each other. Everything was finally okay. You were the only two people in the world at that exact moment, and you would be until you woke up in the morning.

Spencer woke up first. His hands were on your waist and he remembered the dizzy words he spoke to you the near-evening. His mind swam as he tried to remember your response, but he was so sick he just couldn’t. But Spencer didn’t forget, did he?

There wasn’t much Spencer could do without waking you, so he tried his best to do so gently.

“Hey, Y/N. It’s morning.” He whispered.

You woke up and jolted your eyes open. You thought of the night before and instantly calmed down. You looked into Spencer’s deep, honey-colored eyes and kissed his still soft lips. He leaned into you and kissed back.

“So I guess last night went well.” He said as he pulled back, the kiss remembering him of the memories you created in his arms.

“Very. Are you still feeling sick? I can run to the store before we get to work if you need gum.”

“No, I’m okay,” he kissed your nose, “I hate the color orange, and that's all the drugstore has in stock.”

506 notes · View notes

theoswriting · 3 years

Text

fault line [part. i]

summary: To y/n, freedom feels like wind in her hair, sounds like old school rock'n'roll and tastes like Elle's lips. From the fire in front of them comes warmth. With every passing second, bloodied clothes burn beyond the point of recognition.

pairing: elle greenaway x fem!reader

a/n: uhm okay, this totally got out of hand. from that request, my brain went crazy and I ended up having to cut it into two, so this is part 1. Hopefully I'll post part 2 in a couple of days. I feel weird about this story, but I hope you'll enjoy it at least a tiny bit, haha.

warnings: mentions of rape and sexual abuse (nothing graphic), murder but it's pretty lowkey, sociopathy?, bad profiling,

ao3

Jennifer Jareau's steps are hurried when she walks from her office to Hotchner's.

She can feel the eyes of Prentiss, Morgan and Reid following her as she crosses the bullpen. She ignores them, the files she's holding in her hands are far more important. She doesn't wait for an answer after she knocks, not caring that she's interrupting Hotchner in the middle of a phone call.

Hotch doesn't startle at the irruption, and when he sees the urgency in the liaison's eyes, he doesn't hesitate before saying, "I'm afraid I'll have to call later," to whoever was on the other side of the line.

"We have a bad one."

***

To y/n, freedom feels like wind in her hair, sounds like old school rock'n'roll and tastes like Elle's lips.

Elle's hand rests on y/n's thigh as she drives with the other, sunglasses covering her eyes as she stares at the road straight ahead. There's a strength in the way she holds the steering wheel, getting them to their next destination with nothing but confidence. As she looks her over, y/n feels a familiar spark wake inside her. It makes her lean towards the driver's side to drop a long kiss on the corner of Elle's mouth.

Elle doesn't hesitate to turn her head and make it a real kiss, the kind that always leaves y/n breathless and wanting more. When Elle leans back to focus on the road again, the car has swerved to the other side of the road and Elle brings it back to the right lane.

Not that it matters. It's been hours since they had passed another car, not a lot of traffic in the middle of the Nevada desert. And if they were to drive off the road, what a way to go, y/n thinks. She'd happily die twice if it meant dying with Elle kissing her with all the love and passion in the world. That'd probably be the only way y/n would ever make it to heaven.

For now, she leans her head on Elle's shoulder and sighs contentedly at the kiss her girlfriend drops on her temple.

"I think we can stop soon," y/n says after seconds, "We're far out enough, and I really need to stretch my legs."

It's barely fifteen minutes later when y/n finally gets to use her legs after being in the car for so long. As she stretches, Elle stands beside her, drinking from a water bottle. She passes it to her and y/n thanks her. The heat of the desert is heavy around them, but y/n barely feels it.

The warmth comes from the fire in front of them, small and controlled.

With every passing second, bloodied clothes burn beyond the point of recognition.

***

"LAPD called me this morning for a consultation on two cases they suspected might be connected."

Everyone looks at the files as JJ begins presenting the case.

"First victim, Matthew McGregor, 36, was killed with a single gunshot wound to the head a year ago after he came home from a party," She explains, "Second victim, Eric Laurens, 28, two days ago, same M.O., single GSW to the head coming home from a party."

JJ sees Derek nod slowly as he reads over the information again, "Seems pretty clear to me that they're connected."

Emily hums in agreement, "And both had gotten arrested on rape charges, but weren't convicted, prior to their deaths."

"A vigilante?" Rossi theorises out loud.

"There's more," JJ sighs as she clicks on the remote. Five more men appear on screen, a picture from their driver's license and one from a crime scene, "LAPD aren't the only ones who called about similar cases."

Spencer frowns at the screen, "Wyoming, Illinois, New York, these are from all over the country," he observes.

"Yeah" JJ nods, "And the oldest murder goes back to 2007, the most recent being Eric Laurens two days ago."

"That's seven victims over the last 3 years," Derek observes and that's when Hotch gets up to stand next to JJ.

"Seven that we know of," He says, "We might have a transient serial killer in our hands. We'll be flying out to LA to see what we can learn from the most recent crime scene. I've already asked Garcia to look for unsolved murders with a similar M.O. all over the country, we'll debrief more on the jet. Wheels up in 20."

Without another word, all the agents leave the room to gather their belongings and get to the plane that'll take them to their case.

***

After being together for almost four years, y/n and Elle had settled into a routine. It was inevitable, y/n guessed, that after so much time together. Some things were bound to become repetitive.

Elle always takes the left side of the bed, while y/n prefers the right. Elle always cooks if they want their food to be edible, and y/n always cleans up. When it comes to coffee, though, y/n always makes it, Elle's always coming out too strong for both their tastes. When it comes to work, Elle excells at planning while y/n handles the social part.

Their routine is rooted in balance though, and y/n loves the way they compliment each other.

y/n lures the men, Elle shoots them.

She worries sometimes. She worries that their lives are getting boring, that they have settled into this routine too comfortably and forgotten how to surprise each other.

"Mmmh," y/n feels Elle stretch next to her, "G'morning."

Her worries never last very long. How could they, when all y/n has to do is look at Elle to realize that there is no way she's ever falling out of love with the woman.

"Good morning," She replies, getting closer to her girlfriend to drop a kiss on her lips. Elle hums contentedly into the kiss and y/n can't help the grin that takes over her features. When Elle leans back, she keeps her eyes closed and settles back into her pillow and y/n bites her lip as she watches her.

"We need to go soon," Elle mutters.

y/n quickly agrees, even though she's pretty sure no one is on their tails. They can never be too careful. Never stay in a place too long if you don't want to get trapped. They'd stopped in a random motel for the night, paid in cash, left most of their stuff in the car, ready to take off at any time.

It was the way things always were the days that'd follow one of their… projects.

Some would consider this lifestyle tiresome. y/n, however, thinks she's the luckiest person in the world. In the last four years, she's travelled through the country and seen the most beautiful sights with the woman she loves by her side. Sure, they have a job to do, but it's never really felt like a job to y/n. She's always heard that people weren't supposed to enjoy their jobs, that's always what grownups had complained about when she was a kid.

And y/n? Well, she enjoys her job very much.

***

Reid stares at the board in front of him. He's just put up all the information they have so far and it's… a lot.

Or rather, there's very little useful information, but many, many, victims. Garcia has managed to find an overwhelming number of unsolved cases with a similar modus operandi: men, killed by a single gunshot to the head on their way home from a party, all previously accused of rape or sexual misconduct.

They are up to 32 possible victims on top of the 7 they started with, from all over the country. That number only keeps going up the longer Garcia keeps looking.

By now, they are pretty sure all these cases are connected, even though no evidence connects them directly to each other. Even ballistics couldn't link the different shootings.

They're missing something. Spencer only wishes he knew what that was.

On the jet, they'd all agreed on a few things concerning the preliminary profile. Their unsub was most likely highly intelligent and had military or law enforcement training. It was most probably a man in his mid-thirties, carrying out his own justice after the system failed him or someone close to him. He was organized, evident by the lack of clues left behind. Whoever the unsub was, he might even have stalked his victims prior to the crimes.

It sounds right on paper, but something is missing. Spencer knows it.

Something is missing.

***

y/n's hand is wrapped around a cup of coffee as she sits on the patio of a little shop. Her sunglasses are small, barely protecting her from the rays coming from the sun above. It's almost noon.

The world is an ugly place.

That statement had made its way into y/n's head years ago, laying roots, unmoving. With every stroke of her father's anger, with every touch of a man's hands, the roots dug deeper and deeper until they found their way to y/n's heart. The world held no justice for people like y/n. They didn't care about the bruises, the touching, the screaming for help, they never listened.

She had learned a long time ago that if she wants something, she needs to do it herself.

"How can you be married to someone like that?" Elle suddenly speaks up from next to her.

When y/n looks at her, Elle's eyes are fixed onto the man they'd followed. He's at the restaurant on the other side of the street, right in front of the coffee shop. He's sitting with his wife, holding her hand and y/n tilts her head.

"Maybe she doesn't know."

Elle's eyes don't leave the couple, her face still contorted in disgust, "Then, we're doing her a favor."

It brings a smile to y/n's face. The way Elle's voice sounds resolute, confident. It's comforting. It reminds her that she's right to trust Elle, that Elle hates the world just as much as she does and that she'd gladly watch it burn with her. It makes her want to lean in and kiss her, but that would attract too much attention. Instead, she reaches out for her hand and brings it up to her lips. Elle shoots her a small smile, and y/n's heart warms.

It's impressive how a smile from Elle offers y/n a reassurance she hadn't even known she craved. It had always been her against the entire world, the only love she knew was the love she was willing to give to herself. That hadn't always been easy.

Then, she'd met Elle and she had shared a story so different from y/n's but the consequences of it felt familiar. It made sense that y/n had been drawn to her, the strength Elle exuded softened by the understanding y/n saw in her eyes each time she talked.

The world was an ugly place, but Elle Greenaway makes it worth holding on for a little longer.

***

"The body was found right where you're standing," Derek says as he looks back at Prentiss from a few feet ahead, "Which means our unsub must've been standing right here," He adds, pointing to the ground under his feet.

He looks around him as Prentiss voices his exact thought, "There's no way he didn't see the unsub coming. There aren't any good hiding spots out here."

They're standing next to a fence, on the outside of a park, "The sidewalk is big, no trees, or parking allowed, so no cars to hide behind," Derek observes, "Which means our unsub is unsuspecting, someone the victims wouldn't consider a threat."

Emily nods and starts looking up, in search of camera surveillance. Two catch her eye, on the other side of the street and she points out to Derek with a raised eyebrow. Local PD hadn't found anything of use but they decide to call Garcia anyway. If anyone could find something, it was her.

As Morgan talks to their tech analyst, Emily walks past him, then back, retracing the steps their unsub had most likely taken two nights ago. When she stops, she raises her hands, mimicking a gun and aiming at where the victim would've been standing. Whoever it is, they're a good shot which makes her think they were right in saying the unsub had some kind of firearm training.

She sighs as she drops her hands down and puts them on her hips. As she looks around again, a thought crosses her mind, "Where did Mr. Laurens live?"

Derek who just hung up with Garcia wracks his brain to remember the address he'd read in the file, "He lived… three streets down, that way-" He points out to the direction their victim had supposedly been walking from and it dawns on him, "So why was he walking in the opposite direction to his home."

Emily nods, "And how did the unsub know they'd find him here."

"They followed him."

"Walked past him, turned around and shot him?" Emily asks as she walks back to stand where the body had been found.

"Or, he was lured out here," Derek speaks and Prentiss has to agree with him.

"It's the perfect killing spot," She says pointing back at the cameras, "Even if Garcia gets anything from them, it'll be grainy at best, impossible to get a clear shot of our unsub."

Derek looks at the empty street, void of any passerbys, "Quiet street in the day, probably even quieter at night. Less risks to run into an unwanted witness."

"So if he was lured out," Emily says, "We need to figure out who he left that party with."

***

y/n stumbles slightly and giggles as a strong arm wraps around her waist and helps her stay upright.

"Shoot, I'm such a klutz," She adds with a laugh and her companion replies in kind.

His laughter grates on her nerves. It's too loud, resonating all around them and using up too much oxygen. She only has to walk with him a couple more minutes but even that feels too long. She feels his too big hand squeeze her hip and she feels anger spike inside her chest. She wants to hurt him.

Deep breath. Clenched fist. One more minute.

He's started talking again but y/n isn't listening. She's staring straight ahead to the street they're going to walk into where Elle will be waiting for them and the hand will finally fall from her hip. That's when you feel it, that spark you've come to call freedom. It's small but grows as you round the corner with him following you closely.

It starts burning under your skin when you spot Elle's silhouette further down the street.

The man next to you doesn't even take notice of her and isn't that ironic. He spent his life thinking of women as less than and y/n finds it befitting that what'll bring him to his end is the last woman he'll ignore.

Elle raises her gun and with the sound of the gunshot ringing in her ears, y/n's whole body is set aflame.

She watches as the hand lays limp next to his lifeless body and a gleeful laugh escapes her. The hole in his head oozes blood and she can't stop laughing. The hand is laying there unmoving and y/n feels the urge to step on it.

Hurt him, hurt him, hurt him, hurt him like he hurt you.

She's vaguely aware of Elle calling out her name but y/n doesn't snap out of it until a hand yanks her away from the body by the shoulders. She steps back, but slaps the hands touching her away. Only then does she realize that it's Elle looking at her, confusion in her eyes and something y/n doesn't want to ever see from her own girlfriend.

Fear.

"We have to go," Elle announces slowly, like she's explaining it to a child, or a wounded animal. y/n doesn't know which comparison she likes best. She looks back at the body and regretfully nods.

They start walking away, hand in hand, but something inside of y/n doesn't feel quite right. The fire that had roared inside of her is long gone and she feels her body shiver at the cold. Elle notices and wraps an arm around her shoulders, dropping a kiss on her hair as they keep walking side by side.

She wants to smile but she can't manage it.

He hurt her.

He was going to hurt Elle.

He hurt her.

***

"Laurens' friends say he left the party alone," Emily announces to the team as she sits down next to JJ in the conference room. At the same moment, Derek's phone starts ringing, attracting everyone's attention.

"Baby girl, tell me you have good news," Derek answers, putting his phone on speaker so everyone around the table can hear.

"I wish, but no. The cameras on the street were of no use, it's a blind spot. I tried the cameras from neighbouring streets but got nothing. Whoever it is your looking for, they're like a ghost."

There's a collective disappointed sigh and shoulders sagging, and Garcia isn't done, "to make a bad day even worse, a body was just found in Twin Falls, same M.O."

Everyone visibly tenses at the news, Rossi speaking first, "Two kills in less than three days."

Hotch looks at JJ and before he can even say anything, she's out of her seat, "I'll call the local PD, tell them we're on our way."

Hotch nods his approval, turning his stoic gaze to the rest of his team, "Get your bags ready, we're flying out as soon as the jet is ready."

***

It is getting boring and y/n had been right to be worried.

That's the first thing that crosses her mind as she wakes up next to Elle, hours later, in a nameless city in the middle of nowhere.

Elle lays peacefully next to her, deep into slumber, and a smile stretches y/n's lips. She watches her girlfriend's chest rise and fall, her naked body barely covered by the sheets. It's a hot night, y/n can feel the sweat in her lower back making it uncomfortable for her to fall back asleep. As she gets up from the bed, Elle moves, getting closer to where y/n lay seconds ago, chasing the heat despite the already too high temperature.

y/n lets herself watch her for a moment before walking to sit on the chair next to the window. There's nothing to look at, the motel they'd chosen is outside of the city and the lights are barely visible. It's dark, except for the slight light of the moon landing on the cars outside.

She feels empty tonight. The thrill she'd felt hours ago hadn't lasted long and the only thing she could remember about it was the look Elle had thrown her way.

Fear.

Elle had always looked at her with interest. From the moment they met, y/n had been drawn in by her hazel eyes. Something in her made her feel safe in a way she never had before and days after meeting her, she had told Elle about her unpleasant memories, how the world wasn't a nice place.

Elle had listened and, to y/n's surprise, agreed with the statement. Usually, whenever y/n told people about the ugliness of the world, they tried to make her see the parts that weren't so bad, try to make her see that some things, and some people were worth it. Elle hadn't done any of that, she had scoffed and agreed.

"Only person you can trust is yourself. The rest? Always leads to disappointment."

They had ended up in bed together soon after that, spent the night in each other's arms and imagining a world that'd be worth their time.

Two days later, they had killed their first man together.

Their routine hasn't changed in nearly four years, and it used to be enough for y/n. She's the bait, easily transforming herself into whoever the men want to see in front of them. She pretends to be too drunk, unstable on her feet, asking for help to walk back to her place or her car, and the men never think twice before following her.

Elle waits for them and then. She shoots.

And it used to be enough for y/n to watch the proud look on Elle's face anytime she made a perfect shot. Smoking gun in hand and a confident smirk, y/n had never seen anything sexier in her entire life.

What followed was always a passionate kiss and hurried hands, trying to touch every inch of skin.

Earlier, y/n hadn't even kissed Elle, the only contact between them being the arm that Elle had thrown around her shoulder.

y/n can feel that there's something not quite right. She feels it in her body, in the way her arms itch, in the way her chest feels a bit too empty for her too breath comfortably.

y/n loves Elle, there's no way that has changed. She's sure of it. When she turns her head to watch Elle sleep, her heart flutters at the sight of her girlfriend curled up on the side of the bed that she had vacated. She couldn't see it, but she could picture her girlfriend's face, mouth slightly open if she were to believe the little snores she could hear.

She is just bored of the routine.

When she finally climbs back into bed with Elle, her girlfriend automatically drapes a hand over her waist.

"Where did you go?" Elle asks sleepily, and y/n lays a kiss on her nose. It makes her scrunch up her face and that's the cutest sight she's ever seen.

"Couldn't sleep."

Elle hums and goes back to sleep. y/n sighs and follows suit, not long after.

***

"What's this, on the palm?" Morgan asks the M.E., pointing at the left hand of the victim where the skin seems slightly bruised.

The doctor on the other side of the autopsy table nods at Derek and Spencer, "His hand was broken post-mortem, although I'm having a hard time figuring out what broke it."

Reid leaned closer to the hand and frowned, "It looks like something was pushed from the palm to the other side."

Again, the doctor nods, but before she can say anything else, Reid suddenly stands up straight and looks over at Morgan, "I know what did this."

At that moment, Morgan's phone rings and upon seeing Hotch's name, he excuses himself to reply. When he comes back, his face looks somber.

"A man was killed not far from here, local PD just got the call. Hotch wants us to check it out, just in case."

#elle greenaway x reader #elle greenaway #elle greenaway imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #elle greenaway x you #elle greenaway x y/n #criminal minds

97 notes · View notes

stolethekey · 3 years

Text

i woke up just in time, now i wake up by your side

hello! this is for the (final!) @b99fandomevents—i can’t believe how far these two (and this show) have come, and i’m gonna miss them so much. i got to write this for @amydancepants-peralta, who wanted a fic where jake and amy have a disatrous first date, and then amy decides to transfer to chicago—jake has three days to convince her to stay.

enjoy! (you can also read this on ao3.)

It’s their first date, and it’s a disaster.

Neither of them has said anything in the ten minutes since they’ve sat down. Jake buries his nose into the menu, hoping that he looks occupied enough with choosing an entrée to excuse the heavy silence that has settled over the table. A few feet away, in the other side of the booth, Amy does the same thing.

A young man in a pressed suit and tie approaches their table, a small, nervous smile on his face. “Are you all ready to order?”

“Yes!” Amy nearly leaps at the chance to talk to someone who is not Jake. Jake tries not to feel too hurt by the desperate excitement in her voice. “I’ll take the chicken piccata, please.”

Jake lingers around the chicken parmesan but ends up going with a steak, because he’s determined to show Amy and maybe himself that he can eat like an adult. They pass their silk-embossed menus to the waiter, sip their waters, and suddenly it’s too quiet again.

“You got a haircut,” Jake notices, wringing his hands nervously under the table.

“It looks nice.”

“Thanks.”

There is a beat of silence that stretches just a little too long, and then Jake says, “This is awkward.”

Amy chokes out a laugh. “Yeah.”

Another moment passes. Jake swallows the non-existent saliva in his mouth. Their waiter, mercifully, returns with their food a few minutes later. Jake doesn’t want him to leave. He does, of course, and then they’re left in that terrible silence again.

Jake makes it through half his steak before speaking again. “Should we, um, just get really drunk?”

Amy grimaces, reaching for her water. “I don’t think so.” Her voice is quiet, almost defeated. “If we can’t do this sober, what’s the point?”

Something twists uncomfortably in Jake’s stomach, but he stabs his fork into his a piece of broccoli anyway. - It’s the day after their first date, and Amy asks for a transfer.

Jake learns about this through a wail from the evidence lockup that he hears from a good twenty yards away. He bursts through the door, frantic, to find Charles curled in a ball on the ground, rocking back and forth.

Charles gets out the details in between sobs, or at least enough details that Jake gets most of the picture. Amy put in a transfer to Chicago, it’s been granted on account of an emergency vacancy that needs to be filled, and she has three days left at the Nine-Nine.

“Three days,” Charles gasps, tears streaming out of his eyes. “Three days, you have to convince her to stay, Jake, you have to—”

“Hold on,” Jake says desperately, watching Charles dab at his face with a completely saturated tissue. “Let me get you another box of Kleenex.”

He opens the door to leave and runs straight into the source of Charles’s despair, in the flesh.

“Oh,” says Amy.

Jake closes the door behind him before Charles can see her and have a heart attack, then crosses his arms. “Is it true? Are you leaving?”

Amy has the grace to look self-conscious, shuffling her feet and shoving her hands in her pockets. She nods, and Jake feels strangely like the walls are swimming around him.

It just makes sense, she says. She has family there, and New York is too crowded, too expensive, and maybe Chicago is a better place to live anyway.

“Is this because of me?” Jake demands. “Because of…you know…our date?”

“No, of course not.” She doesn’t look at him as she says it.

Jake scoffs before stalking past her into the bullpen, ignoring her half-hearted call of his name. He blinks back the hot, furious tears forming in his eyes, and internally he starts a calendar. - On Day One, Jake calls in sick to work.

He responds to the “r u ok??” texts from Charles, Rosa, Gina, and Terry with a copy-and-pasted “I’m ok. Just feeling gross.” He ignores the ones that mention Amy. He also pretends like he doesn’t notice that Amy hasn’t sent him anything.

The morning is spent mindlessly scrolling through his social media beneath his blankets, with no regard for time or his grumbling stomach.

At noon, Charles posts a picture of the squad from Halloween with the caption “Gonna miss my favorite Halloween-hater. #SayonaraSantiago.” Jake decides he’s had enough Instagram for the day and finally hauls himself out of bed.

He orders a pizza, then turns his phone off and the TV on. Inadvertently, the pizza becomes both lunch and dinner and one Die Hard movie becomes a marathon—and before he knows it, the sky outside his apartment is dark.

“Well, that was productive,” Jake mutters, brushing the pizza crumbs off his lap before standing up to toss his trash into the garbage.

On Day Two, they aren’t talking to each other.

Amy looks up almost timidly as he walks out of the elevator, then waits until he reached his desk to let out a small, hesitant “Hi.”

Jake grabs the file waiting for him on his desk and walks out of the bullpen without looking at her.

So, strictly speaking, this is mostly his fault.

That fact does not do anything to quell the mixture of anger and hurt writhing in his stomach. He spends the day furiously completing paperwork in an empty interrogation room, jabbing his pen so furiously into the paper that he rips a hole in an I-918 and has to start over.

At noon, Rosa stops by with a turkey sub, which she drops wordlessly on the desk in front of him before sliding back out the door.

At five, he has completed more paperwork than he has in the last month combined. He drops the stack of files on Terry’s desk, forces a smile, and says, “Finally caught up on all those forms you’ve been hounding me about.”

Terry, his eyes piercing and slightly concerned, does not laugh. “Dismissed.”

It’s Day Three, and Holt has had enough.

He assigns Jake and Amy to label evidence in the lockup together, much to Jake’s chagrin. Amy turns and speeds off without a word. Jake turns towards Holt with a big, reproachful protest on the tip of his tongue but is cut off by Holt’s raised eyebrows and stern expression.

“Peralta, you need to get over yourself.”

“What?”

“You need to get over yourself,” Holt repeats. “Your partner of six years is leaving tomorrow, and you haven’t spoken to her in three days.”

Jake snorts, crossing his arms defensively. “Yeah, well, she’s leaving because of me, so—”

“I’m not sure that matters,” Holt says, not unkindly. “If you let her leave like this, you might never get the chance to talk to her again.”

Jake stares at the ground, furiously attempting to dig a hole in the ground with his toe.

“I know you don’t want this to be the way things end.” Holt’s voice is gentle, and Jake can’t bring himself to look up. “It would be unwise to let your pride get in the way of your last chance to save your friendship.”

“Whatever,” Jake mutters irritably, but something uncomfortable has begun to form in his gut. “Gimme that Sharpie so I can go write case numbers on a bunch of ziplock bags.”

Jake does not, in fact, get over himself—at least not for the first few hours. He chooses to instead label evidence in the same furious silence that has occupied his past three days, pretending he doesn’t see the furtive, almost timid glances Amy throws his way every few minutes.

Then he walks to a bodega for lunch and realizes mid-chew that this is Amy’s last lunch at the Nine-Nine, and the uncomfortable thing in his stomach grows a lot bigger.

He finally swallows his pride on his walk back to the precinct, and when he re-enters the evidence lockup the thing in his stomach has started feeling a lot more like guilt.

Amy walks in a few minutes after him, tossing a balled-up sandwich wrapper into the trash, and notices that he’s watching her. “You have something to say to me?”

“Yeah, actually,” Jake says quickly. “I do.”

She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes, and Jake’s heart sinks a little.

“I—uh—I’m sorry,” Jake says. “For how I reacted, and for icing you out the past few days. It was immature of me, and stupid, and I should’ve been an adult about it, but—well, I guess we both know I suck at that sometimes.”

Amy snorts, but her expression has softened slightly. “Thank you.”

“And I’m gonna make it up to you,” Jake continues, almost determinedly. “We’re gonna make this the best day you’ve ever had at the Nine-Nine.”

Amy laughs slightly. “I don’t think that’s possible, given the amount of work we have left.”

“Who cares?” Jake shrugs. “The best part of work has always been the people anyway.”

And for all the organizational skills Jake may lack, he sure knows how to delegate. All it takes is a couple text messages to a new, Amy-less precinct group chat and the rest of the Nine-Nine is off. Gina cashes in on a favor and gets Shaw’s to close its doors for the evening. Rosa makes a last-minute motorcycle trip to a local party store and uses a sizable amount of cash and her surprising aesthetic skill to acquire a large box of decorations. Charles says, “leave the food to me,” and no one is brave enough to question him about it.

Jake stays with Amy on the floor of the evidence lockup. They talk and laugh as they work, reminiscing about their years at the Nine-Nine and the particularly memorable perps they’ve brought in.

There’s also a supercut of the stuff that wasn’t work at all—the precinct parties, Charles saving Thanksgiving, the Boyle-Linetti wedding. There are the Halloween heists, the Jimmy Jabs, and there’s the Bet, with a capital B. Neither of them mentions the last one, but Jake is definitely thinking about it.

“Remember that time Terry tried to do the full bullpen and almost knocked a tooth out?” Amy asks, grinning widely. “I thought Sharon was gonna pull him out of the force immediately.”

“You have no faith,” Jake says, shaking his head. “I knew she’d let him stay.”

“You did not.” Amy points at him, narrowing her eyes. “You were so scared when she came to pick him up.”

“I was not—”

“So scared. I’ve never seen a grown man visibly tremble like that, but—”

“God, shut up.” Jake throws a balled-up piece of tape at her, and she laughs. It’s a real one, this time, one that’s bright and infectious.

They let it fade into a gentle silence, one that’s more comfortable than the ones of the past few days.

There’s a beat, and then Jake says, “Don’t go to Chicago.”

He expects Amy to be surprised by this change of subject—to recoil and give an affronted, “what?”

Instead, she sighs, long and slow, and closes the manila folder in front of her. “Jake—”

“I mean, I know it’s your decision, and I respect that,” Jake says quickly. “And if you truly meant what you said to me earlier, about how it’s important to be near your family and it’s a better place for you to live and you’ve grown out of New York—if that’s really the reason you’re leaving, then that’s fine. Just tell me, and I’ll shut up about it and we can just have a big blowout goodbye party and you can leave.”

Amy picks at the edge of her boot and says nothing.

“But if it’s not—if you’re leaving because of what happened on our date—I don’t want to be the reason you give this up, Amy. I know how much you love it here, and this place loves you too. Captain Holt is a phenomenal mentor to you, we both know that, and you might not get that in Chicago—you’ve done so much good work here that I know you’re proud of, and I can’t be the reason you don’t have that anymore.”

Amy looks at him, her eyes a stormy mix of unreadable emotions, but still doesn’t say anything.

“Look,” Jake says, splaying out his hands in front of him. “That date was kind of a disaster, we both know that. And I think it’s because we were both trying too hard, because we cared too much. Because we’re friends, Amy, and that’s what’s most important to me.”

He takes a deep breath, then says, “I don’t care if we never date. I don’t care if I never get to hug you, or kiss you, or do any of the things I’ve so desperately wanted to do. I just can’t lose your friendship. You’re the best partner I’ve ever had, and an even better friend, and I would be more than happy to just be friends with you for the rest of my life. God knows it’s more than I deserve.”

“You deserve plenty,” Amy says softly.

Jake swallows the way that makes his chest flutter. “I’m just saying—I’m laying my cards all out on the table, here. I want you to stay, and I respect it if you don’t want that. But please don’t let me be the reason for you leaving.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Amy gives him a small, wistful smile that says everything Jake needs to hear.

“Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath and wiping his hands on his jeans. “Party at Shaw’s it is, then.”

Amy slaps the last label on a duffle bag, checks her watch, and stands. “I’m actually taking off early—I need to clear up some stuff at City Hall before I leave. I’ll meet you there?”

“Oh,” Jake says, a little dumbfounded.

Amy notices his expression and shakes her head quickly. “No, it’s not—I mean, this has been settled for days, Holt knows, I was always leaving at three today. So it’s not, like, spontaneous, you know. I would’ve told you earlier, but—"

“I was being an ass. Yeah.”

Amy gives him that little sad smile again, and Jake wants to kick a wall. “I’ll see you at the bar,” she says, almost gently.

Jake forces a smile and nods. “Yeah. Looking forward to it.” - When he pushes through the doors of his favorite bar a few hours later, Jake is expecting loud music, streamers, and—if Gina’s Instagram stories were credible—possibly Mario Lopez. Instead, the bar is completely empty.

There are no balloons, no decorations—the only set table is in the middle of the floor, and on it sits a pizza, two salads, and two glasses of water.

“What—what is this?” Jake mutters, mostly to himself.

“A dinner between two friends,” Amy says, emerging from behind the bar. She gives him a small, slightly nervous smile. “And if it goes well, a second date.”

Jake blinks.

“You were right,” Amy tells him, carrying a bottle of wine and two wine glasses to the table. “Our friendship is the most important thing, here, and it means a lot to both of us. I mean, that’s why we were trying so hard in the first place, right? Neither of us wanted it to fail.”

Jake nods in silent assent, not trusting whatever his mouth would say if he let it.

“But it did fail. Miserably.”

“Uh-huh,” Jake says, somewhat stupidly.

“So the worst thing that could happen has already happened, and we’ve gotten through it. And I think—I think, now, having gone through the past few days, we know enough to give it another shot. As long as we set very clear boundaries.”

“Boundaries,” Jake repeats. “Boundaries are good.”

“Yeah,” says Amy with a slightly amused smile. “So, we’re friends. Really good friends. And that’s what we have to protect, above anything. So this is not necessarily a date. It’s a dinner, and we’re a pair of very good friends who are gonna eat it. And if we want to, afterwards, we can decide to call it a date.”

“Can you do that?” Jake asks. “Label something a date after it’s already happened?”

“Who cares?” Amy smirks. “Since when have you followed rules?”

Jake swallows and shrugs.

“Anyway, if it’s awkward, or weird, then we move past it. It’s a slightly awkward moment between friends that doesn’t have to mean anything. No more silent treatment, no more rash decisions, just two friends who are still friends afterwards. Got it?”

“Afterwards,” Jake says slowly. “So—Chicago—”

“Yeah, I’m not going,” Amy says, her eyes sparkling. “That was a dumb thing I did to avoid this guy I went on a terrible date with.”

A broad grin starts to make its way across Jake’s face. “He sounds like he sucks.”

Amy laughs, then pulls out a chair and points at it. “So—pizza?”

The grin on Jake’s face softens into something smaller, something gentler. “Definitely.”

They each take a slice, then a bite, and Jake will never admit it—but it’s the best Meat Supreme he’s ever tasted.

#b99 summer 2021 fic exchange #this one was fun i hope u guys like it!#i can't believe this show is almost over #i'm gonna miss it very much #my fics #my b99 fics #jake peralta x amy santiago #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #b99

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swan-of-sunrise · 3 years

Text

Specs and the Flyboy (Chapter Ten)

Summary: Jack realizes just how convoluted his off-the-books investigation is after compiling all their evidence, but a foiled assassination attempt ends up shedding new light on the case.

Pairing: Jack Thompson X Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings/Disclaimers: Brief scene containing talk of drug addictions

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading! I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Ten Stark Mansion, Los Angeles (Previous Chapter)

Just as Jack pinned the last photograph to the board and stepped back to admire his work, there was a loud knock on the door. “It’s open!”

“Ana went searching through her knitting supplies and found what you…what’s all this?”

“This, Jarvis, is an evidence board; I used to force the boys do ‘em back in New York for certain cases, mostly so they could keep track of evidence and discover new leads.” Jack took the spool of red yarn from Jarvis and grabbed a pair of scissors before measuring and cutting off strings. “We’ve got a lot of evidence that doesn’t match up, so I thought it’d be a good idea to lay it all out and see how everything connects.”

Jarvis made an impressed sound as he examined the board on the wall. “Several months ago, Ana joined a book club and we found that it was easier for her to understand the novels if she read them aloud to me. Why don’t you try the same thing with your evidence?”

Looking up from his work, Jack gave the butler a look of suspicion. “I thought you didn’t approve of our investigation.”

“I never said that, I merely pointed out that keeping your investigation from Miss Carter was morally wrong.” Jarvis retorted as he crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Go on, then. If it makes you more comfortable, you can always pretend you’re talking to Miss (Y/L/N) instead.”

Something about the butler’s suggestive tone and the knowing gleam in his eyes caused Jack’s face to warm, and he hastily turned back towards the board with his red strings in hand. “Um, okay then. In 1917, Michael Carter was born in Hampstead, England to Harrison and Amanda Carter, and Peggy was born four years later.” Jack wrapped one end of a string around the thumbtack above Michael’s photograph and secured the other end to the one above Peggy’s SSR profile. “He kept his nose clean, made good grades in school and in ‘34, he was accepted into Cambridge University, where he studied Philosophy and Literature. He shared an apartment-sorry, a flat…” He glanced at Jarvis just as the butler gave him an eye-roll. “…with Adam Fieldman and William Attwell, two other students at Cambridge.”

“And this Adam Fieldman is the one with the connection to the orangery Miss (Y/L/N) infiltrated?”

Jack nodded, using another string to connect Michael’s photograph to one of Adam Fieldman. “Yep, his old man owns it. According to one of the codes, the orangery was a front for the manufacturing and distribution of devices based on one of Stark’s stolen blueprints…at least, it was up until the other week. Anyways, I did a little digging and found out that Attwell joined the Royal Air Force in ’39 but was shot down during the Battle of Berlin; since his body was recovered from the wreck and identified by his family, we’ve ruled him out as an associate of Michael’s. Fieldman tried enlisting in the U.S. Army right after the bombing of Pearl Harbor in ’41 but when he was declared 4F on account of his scoliosis, he officially moved back to the States to work for his old man.” He pointed to a sheet of paper pinned beneath Michael’s photograph. “According to both an official British Royal Army report and a copy of an SOE file, Michael was declared missing in action in ’40; there was no body recovered, but it was assumed that he died on the battlefield and was buried in a mass grave.”

Moving forward, Jarvis gestured to a document pinned onto the lower half of the board. “And what’s this?”

“That’s a summary of all the information (Y/N) and I pulled from ‘M. Carter’s’ file. During the whole Zero Matter thing back in July, Vernon Masters sent me to London to get dirt on Peggy; a buddy of mine in MI5 gave me that file documenting her alleged war crimes, but I realized pretty quick that there’s no way Peggy could’ve done those things. I decided I’d take it back to New York with me once the Zero Matter case got closed, but not before making a copy and hiding it at the SSR; good thing I did, too, ‘cause I was shot and the original file was stolen…but anyways, yeah, that’s everything we’ve gotten from the file so far.”

“You haven’t said anything about this man,” The butler pointed to another photograph attached to a handwritten address. “Is he the one who shot you?”

“Nope, that’s Aaron Templeton and his last known address; we think he’s a hired hand who helped carry out the bank robbery downtown a few weeks back.” Jack connected his photograph to Michael’s with another string. “Based on the intel (Y/N) gathered from the orangery, Templeton was bumped off for leaving the device behind after the robbery, so that proves he wasn’t that integral to their plans. They made off with forty thousand dollars in gold, so we’ve theorized that they’re using the gold to fund their operation.” He looked back at Jarvis and frowned at his befuddled expression. “What?”

Jarvis gave him a small shrug and forced smile. “Oh, it’s nothing.” But as Jack continued to stare him down, he hastily added, “Well, this may very well be my inner Agatha Christie fan speaking, but there appears to be quite a few gaps in your investigation. Who was your shooter? What exactly is Mr. Carter’s so-called operation and why does it need funding? And why did Mr. Carter supposedly write down valuable information in the file and risk possible exposure?”

“I can see why Stark keeps you around.” Jack grumbled, his good mood slowly dampening at the butler’s words; their case wasn’t simple as he presumed it was, and it was clearer than ever that if he wanted to return to New York, they had a lot more work to do. And they said life after the war would be easy, Jack thought with an inward eye-roll. “Well, thanks for your honesty, Jarvis. I guess I’ll have to-”

The ringing of the telephone interrupted his words, and he watched as Jarvis strode across the room to answer it. “Mr. Stark’s residence.” His face brightened. “Miss Carter! How are you?” After a moment, his smile fell. “Chief Thompson? He’s, um, he’s sunbathing by the pool, of course; he mentioned this morning that he wished to work on his tan.” Jack rolled his eyes at the lie. “Would you like me to give him a message? Splendid, we shall see you soon.” He set the handset back down on its receiver and turned to face Jack. “That was Miss Carter. She was calling to inform you that she’ll be here shortly with some paperwork for you to sign regarding a routine prisoner transfer.”

“All right, I’m gonna give (Y/L/N) a call to let her know.” Once Jarvis left the room, Jack went over to the phone and picked up the handset before dialing the telephone number he’d unintentionally committed to memory.

“Hello?”

The obvious exhaustion in the codebreaker’s voice caused Jack to frown in concern. “Geez, Specs, you sound like shit. I didn’t wake you up, did I? It’s almost noon!”

He could barely make out (Y/N)’s familiar sigh of exasperation. “You’re a real charmer, you know? And yes, in fact, you did wake me up; I was up late working on a code and finally called it quits around four in the morning.”

“(Y/L/N)...”

“I know, I know, I should get more sleep but that damn code…” She let out frustrated huff. “I take it you didn’t call just to scold me about my terrible sleep patterns, though. What’s up?”

“Peggy’s coming over in a bit with paperwork for me to sign, so we’re not gonna be able to meet up until later. I’ll give you a ring to let you know when it’s okay to come over.”

“Okay, that’ll give me a chance to look over that code with fresh eyes. Oh, and that reminds me, when I come over I want to see what sort of progress you’re making on the code I gave you to practice with the other day.”

“Sure, just as soon as you cough up those two bucks you owe me.”

Jack could practically hear her rolling her eyes, and it took all he had not to laugh out loud. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah, you bet me two bucks that the Dodgers were gonna win the World Series and last I checked, they got their asses handed to ‘em last Monday by the Yankees. Got anything smart to say to that, Specs?”

“…Nope, have a good day!”

There was a soft click before the line went silent, and Jack didn’t even bother suppressing his chuckle of amusement that time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re in an uncharacteristically good mood today, Jack; could it be that you’re finally beginning to enjoy Los Angeles?”

Jack shrugged noncommittally as he scribbled his signature on the bottom of a document. “More like beginning to tolerate it.” He glanced up just in time to catch Peggy’s smirk. “What?”

Her smile widened. “Nothing, it’s just that I didn’t think very highly of Los Angeles when I first arrived out here either, but I’ve slowly grown to appreciate the…unique charms that the West Coast has to offer.”

“Unique charms, huh? Is that a new nickname you’ve given to Sousa, and can I start calling him that too?”

“Sod off, Thompson.” Jack chuckled as Peggy shot him a glare; once he finished his work, she gathered up the newly-signed documents and tucked them neatly into her briefcase. “Well, that’s all I have for you. Naturally, I would’ve waited until Monday to have you sign these but the FBI was rather agitated that they hadn’t received them yet. Their charm knows no bounds, doesn’t it?”

“No kidding. They’re probably still pissed off about the whole Vernon Masters thing; it’s not the SSR’s fault he got blown to hell by Whitney Frost, but I guess they don’t see it like that.” Standing up from the dining room table, Jack faked a yawn as he stretched his arms. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Marge, I’ve gotta get some more tanning in before my afternoon nap.”

Rolling her eyes, Peggy stood and put her hat back on before grabbing her briefcase. “Well, don’t let me stop you, I’m just going to have a quick word with Mr. Jarvis before I leave.”

To keep Peggy from becoming suspicious, Jack made his way into Stark’s sprawling backyard and made himself comfortable on one of the chaise lounges beside the pool; he stretched his legs out, crossed his ankles and, with his hands resting behind his head, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Yeah, maybe I could get used to this…”

Although Jack would never publicly admit it, Peggy’s speculation had been correct; the longer he’d stayed in Los Angeles, the more he’d been enjoying himself. The endless sunshine and glitzy Hollywood scene couldn’t take all the credit for his feelings, as that honor belonged to a certain snarky codebreaker. Since the end of the war, he hadn’t exactly had friends. He’d had many great coworkers and a couple of brief romantic flings, sure, but he’d never truly felt comfortable enough around any of them to open up in any sort of meaningful way. With (Y/N), however, it was a different story and he’d found himself appreciating her more and more for that as their partnership grew. You’d better not get too comfortable, he once again warned himself, as soon as you solve this case you’re headed back to New York, hopefully to bigger and better things if you’re lucky, and she’ll still be here…

The nearby sound of a dry leaf being stepped on startled Jack out of his silent contemplation; snapping his eyes open, he looked over just in time to see a large, black-clad man lunging towards him with a knife in hand. Acting on instinct, Jack rolled himself off the lounge chair and sprang to his feet in time to dodge another swipe of his knife. Jack caught the man’s wrist and twisted it sharply so that the knife slipped out of his grasp; he kicked it into the pool just before the man landed a hard punch on his jaw that sent him reeling. The man kicked his stomach and his back hit the wall of the pool house hard; before Jack could react, the man punched him again before wrapping his hands around his neck and squeezing. Struggling for air, Jack slammed his arms down on the man’s and used the distraction to head-butt him before landing a couple of punches to his face, the last one causing the man to drop unconscious to the ground.

Panting, Jack wiped away a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth and took the opportunity to get a good look at his attacker; he was light-haired, muscular and definitely familiar, but Jack couldn’t think of where he might’ve seen him before.

“I’ll see you on Monday, Thompson! Thompson?”

Peggy’s faint call made Jack spring into action; he picked his attacker up in a fireman’s hold and staggered into the pool house, throwing the unconscious man onto the ground and slamming the door closed behind him. He peeked through the curtains just as Peggy came into view; she glanced around the backyard for a moment before shrugging and going back into the house, much to Jack’s relief. He glanced back down at the man on the floor with a deepening frown. “Now, who the hell are you?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Almost as soon as (Y/N) laid eyes on Jack, her easy-going smile was replaced with a look of concern; when she gently touched his chin and moved his head to get a better look at his swollen cheek and neck, Jack was grateful that his blush was masked by the rapidly-forming bruises. “He really did a number on you, Flyboy. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Well, I’m definitely doing better than he is.” Jack tried to grin but only ended up wincing in pain. “Not by much, though. C’mon, I’ve got him tied up in the pool house; let’s wake him up and find out who he is.” He led her into the backyard and to the pool house, holding the door open for (Y/N) to enter. “There’s something about him that seems familiar, but-”

“I know who he is.” Jack turned towards her and watched as she stared down at the unconscious man tied to a chair. “He’s one of the guards from Fieldman Family Orangery; I knocked him out with my compact mirror.” She looked back up at him, her brow furrowed in concern. “It looks like you just foiled another one of their assassination attempts.”

He nodded. “And this time I’m getting a few answers for my troubles.” Striding over to the man, Jack kicked the leg of the chair and stepped back when the man jolted awake. “Had a good nap, Sleeping Beauty? Now, my partner and I are gonna need you to answer a few questions for us, so how ‘bout we start with a name.”

The man spat onto the ground and growled, “Screw you.”

“Well, that’s not very polite.” Jack quipped, grabbing the man’s blonde hair and wrenching his head up before punching him in the face; the man groaned and Jack stepped back to look at the rapidly-swelling welt on his cheek. “How ‘bout we try that again; who are you?”

“You’re gonna…you’re gonna have to try harder than that, Chief Thompson.”

Jack raised his fist to strike him again just as (Y/N) latched onto his arm. “Thompson, wait! We’re never going to get him to talk this way-”

“Sure we are, every suspect I interrogated for the SSR started singin’ like a bird after only five minutes alone in a room with me.” He gave the man a hard glare over (Y/N)’s shoulder before looking back down at her. “This mook won’t be a problem.”

(Y/N) huffed with impatience. “I don��t doubt that you’re a skilled interrogator, Flyboy, but I’m telling you that he’s on a whole other level. If we’re going to get information out of him, we need to try another way and I think I’ve got one.” Her (Y/E/C) eyes pleaded with him to trust her and after a long moment, Jack sighed and took a step back; her gaze softened as she gave him a brief nod. “Thank you.”

The man let out a snort of amusement when (Y/N) approached him, her arms crossed over her chest. “Hey there, sweet-cheeks. What’s a pretty thing like you gonna do to me? Teach me to crochet?”

Jack’s hands clenched into fists but he forced himself to stay calm and let (Y/N) continue the interrogation herself; she smiled easily at the man and began pacing before him. “No, but we can always get to that later on if you’re not feeling too sick.” Both Jack and the man frowned in confusion. “Oh, I recognized it the moment I stepped into this room; you’re an opiate addict. As I’m sure you know, it can be very uncomfortable for an addict to be without their chosen drug for too long and judging by the way you look right now, it’s been quite a while since you’ve had a fix.”

“I…I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about…” The man’s face had lost all color and his hands were twitching against the arms of the chair.

“Right now, you’re experiencing some heavy sweating and anxiety, but you’re most likely used to those symptoms at this point in your addiction.” (Y/N) sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “Unfortunately for you, though, what you’re feeling now is nothing compared to how you’re going to feel later tonight. Abdominal cramping, tremors, vomiting…yes, it’s going to be a very uncomfortable time for you, especially since no one but the two of us knows you’re here.” How the hell does she know so much about dope addictions, Jack silently pondered, adding it to the ever-expanding list of questions he’d been dying to ask his partner. She turned back to face the man, her mouth set in a hard line. “So if you want to avoid all that unpleasantness, then I suggest you answer my partner’s question; who are you?”

The man immediately stammered out, “P-Peter Hanson.”

Jack moved to stand beside (Y/N). “Good, that wasn’t so hard. Why were you trying to kill me?”

“I was hired to, okay? The boss of my boss thought you were onto him so I was hired to bump you off in your hotel room! Once the main boss heard you were still alive, I was hired again and told that if I fail this time, he’d cut off my supply.” Jack and (Y/N) exchanged looks of confusion, and Hanson added impatiently, “My dope supply, he knows that I need it!”

(Y/N) crossed her arms once again. “All right, then. Now, tell us the names of your bosses, what they were up to at Fieldman Family Orangery and where they are now.”

Hanson let out a frustrated growl and bit his lip before answering, “The guy who hired me, his name’s Thomas, Thomas Attwell, but I don’t know the main boss’ name or what they do. I haven’t seen any of ‘em in weeks, either.”

“You hungry, Specs? How ‘bout we go grab a bite to eat and come back later?” Jack suggested. “I’m sure our new friend here wouldn’t mind waiting for us…”

“I’m not lyin’! I’m just a hired hitman, my boss never talked serious business ‘round me!” Hanson frowned, as if he was trying to recall something. “I remember one time, though, Attwell was talkin’ to another guy at the orangery – son of the guy who owned the place, I think – and he kept callin’ their work a ‘Secret Empire’ or somethin’ like that, like it was a code.” (Y/N)’s eyes widened at his words, but before Jack could react, Hanson shakily continued. “Look, these guys are nuts; I saw them torture and kill a guy just ‘cause they said he lost somethin’ important to ‘em, and that’s not even the worst thing I’ve seen. I just wanna get away from ‘em before I get in too deep…”

“Well, we need to verify the information you’ve given us before there’s any talk of what to do with you, so if you’ll excuse us…” (Y/N) ushered Jack out of the pool house and closed the door before hurrying alongside him into the mansion and to his room, where their evidence board was still hanging on the wall; she quickly made a bee-line to the board and, after putting on her reading glasses, looked over the documents and photographs pinned onto it. “Where’s the-ah, here! Yep, Thomas Attwell is the younger brother of William Attwell, Michael’s former roommate in college; I’d bet my Fleetmaster that he’s the mystery man I heard talking in the orangery.”

Standing beside her, Jack pointed to the photograph of Adam Fieldman. “And you were right about what you said the other week, Fieldman’s definitely the second guy you heard in the orangery.” He grabbed his red yarn strings and a pen, working on amending the board as he talked. “From the sound of it, Fieldman’s in charge of the manufacturing and distribution aspect of their little operation while Attwell’s there to keep their guys in check for Michael. But we still don’t know why the hell they’re robbing banks with stolen Stark tech-”

“I do.” With a weary look, (Y/N) took of her reading glasses and set them on the desk beside them. “The Secret Empire isn’t code for anything, it’s the name of an organization that existed within Hydra during the war. Originally, it started out as a criminal enterprise that generated financial support for Hydra after they broke away from Hitler and the Nazis; they also worked to secretly distract the SSR from Hydra’s activities whenever they could so needless to say, they were a massive pain in our asses throughout the war.”

Jack furrowed his brow in confusion. “If they only existed during the war, then why’s there a chucklehead in the pool house saying they’re still around?”

“Before Steve Rogers took down Hydra in ‘45, there were some rumors going around that the Secret Empire wanted to break away and form their own independent group. It was just here-say, though, and when Hydra fell we all assumed that the Secret Empire went down with them; thinking back on it now, it was a little weird that there was complete and total radio-silence on their end…” (Y/N) bit her lip as her gaze danced between Jack and the evidence board. “What if a new iteration of the Secret Empire got a hold of Howard’s blueprints, used them to manufacture weapons and began committing bank robberies as a way to build their organization back up?”

“That explains why the bank robbers ignored the cash and only went after the gold; that’s a universal currency if I’ve ever seen one.” With a sigh, Jack stepped forward and tapped a finger against the photograph of a smiling Michael Carter. “So, I guess Michael really was Hydra the whole time, and now he’s a member of this new Secret Empire. There’s one question Hanson didn’t answer, though: What’s their next move?”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind them. They both whirled around to see Howard Stark standing in their doorway, his arms crossed over his chest and his signature smirk on his face. “I think I can answer that one for you, Chief Thompson. But first, could you two do somethin’ about the guy in the pool house? I’ve got a pool party scheduled for later tonight and I can’t have him ruining the mood for everyone…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thank you guys so much for reading! If you haven’t checked it out yet, I created a Spotify playlist for this series and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/21pWY7OiMFj8LaYpxhtVtW

Chapter Eleven

“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist

Tagging: @nnon-it-up @fluffymadamina @remmyswritings @ourstarsailor @darkusangelus @josis-teacup @marvel-jackt-loki-buck @yeetyeetchickenmeat @sameoldbaby @theserenityspace @seeing-but-not-observing @supervoldejaygent @momc95 @brooke0297 @kinda-c0nfused @outoftheregular @mads-weasley

#jack thompson x reader #agent carter #jack thompson #edwin jarvis #peggy carter #howard stark #michael carter #marvel cinematic universe #strategic scientific reserve

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chemist-ana · 3 years

Text

Chapter 13 The Morning After— Sams POV

Book: The Nanny Affair

Characters: Sam, Ana Schuyler (MC), Vivan and Mason Dalton

Pairing: Sam Dalton (male) x Ana Schuyler (MC)

Rating: 18+

Content Warning: NSFW, Sexual Language, Adult Language, Sexual Situations

A/N I know there are a lot of people that do not like Sam Dalton- that being said, this chapter was especially difficult for me to write, because I am trying to give him a redeeming character arc. As a person that is involved with the family business, I can understand to a degree where he is coming from with the guilt and what he chooses some of the decisions he does. BUT please do not forgot that MC is culpable and definitely at fault as well. There are definitely some cringe worthy things in this chapter- but I hope y'all love it! Also a super big thank you for @txemrn for talking me through some of these ideas and for being the queen of angst. Love you p.

Summary: In the cold light of day, will you and Ana be able to face the consequences of your actions?

Word Count: 5800

Tag List: @txemrn @secretaryunpaid @lifeaskim @aussieez @pixie88 @thefrenchiemama @sfb123 @mainstreetreader @shewillreadyou @khoicesbyk @lady-calypso @choicesficwriterscreations @somersetmummy @melalicious8383 @chrissythadon @shannonwrote @jerzwriter

The sound of my footsteps, my labored breathing, and the early morning traffic are the only sounds in my ears, as I push my legs faster through Central Park. I reach up and wipe at the sweat that is beading on my brow, silently cursing the wretched New York, humid, summer mornings.

I usually run with music blasting in my ears… but I decided this morning to torture myself, and I can’t decide whether its working. The sounds of Ana’s moans echo through my mind, as steady as my heart beats. I see a gorgeous blonde running towards me and I give her a crooked smile as our eyes connect. She just about trips on the pavement before composing herself mid stride and continues past me, avoiding my gaze.

Well that didn’t help.

I push myself harder in the last few hundred yards of my run, and when my building finally comes into view, I slow down to a walk, reaching my arms up to catch my breath.

“Good morning, Mr. Dalton.” The morning doorman greets as he opens the door to the lobby for me.

“Thanks, Felix.” I nod as I breeze past him, waving my keycard at the scanner to my penthouse elevator.

When the door dings open, I hold my breath as I walk quietly through the still living room, everyone is still sleeping. I stop outside of Ana’s door. Resting my hands on her door frame and closing my eyes. I take a deep breath, what the fuck happened last night… I walk into my master bathroom, turning the shower water on cold.

My brain delves into the guilt that is sitting heavy on my shoulders. The guilt that I have for the years I spent fucking off in college instead of setting myself up for my future. The guilt I have for losing Eva. The guilt I have for hiring Ana… And now to add more… the guilt that I have for fucking her last night. What the fuck were you thinking? I tilt my head up into the cold water, letting the shock send a shudder down my spine.

My life has revolved around this family business… watching the countless hours my father has spent building it from nothing into this global conglomerate. The knowledge that one day, this would all be mine. The endless chiding from my father to fit into his mold of what the perfect CEO would be. Married with children. I have truly never been in control of my life… even when I married Eva. I thought she was the one… but now that I have Ana… stop it you fool, you don’t have Ana… she deserves better than your spineless tricks. Fuck, fuck, fuck, what am i doing? I reach up and rest my hands on the shower wall, letting my head lull forward.

What the fuck happens next?

***

“Good morning.” I greet the twins and Ana as I round the corner into the kitchen.

“Morning, dad.” The boys look at me with defeated looks, I’m guessing it has something to do with the beige mush in their bowls.

I cast a quick glance at Ana as a blush creeps up her neck.

“Ana? Are you alright?”

She shakes her head slightly before looking at me.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about last night.” Her eyes linger on mine.

The all too clear memory of her moans and the feel of her body come flooding back into my mind again, but I quickly shove them away as I stare back at her.

“Yeah! Carter said you went to that fancy party thing with Dad!” My eyes flick to Mason as he sets his spoon down.

“Did you pull any pranks?” Mickey asks with a smile.

“Not this time. Maybe we just needed someone to show us how it’s done.” I look between them.

“I’d rather stay home and eat pizza, thanks!” Mickey’s eyes grow wide as he takes another bite of his mush, god that doesn’t look good at all.

I grab a cup of coffee and turn to walk towards my office.

“Can we talk later?” Ana whispers as she leans in close to me.

My stomach drops and I feel my body stiffen. I don’t spare her a glance before answering. “… Yes. Later.”

Without another word I head to my home office, leaving a stunned Ana behind. I can feel her gaze as I round the corner and close the door quietly behind me.

I don't know what to say to you yet, Ana…

I sit down in my Wegner chair, switching the Tiffany Lamp on. I rub my hands down my face with a sigh. The silence is broken by the ringing of my cell phone, I glance down and my fathers name is flashing on the screen.

“Hey, dad.” I set my phone on my desk and turned it on speaker.

“Sam, things in Italy are not clearing up. I need you there to fix this mess.”

I let out a sharp exhale through my teeth and pinch the bridge of my nose.

“This is pretty short notice.”

“After what happened in Milan, LEMA is having some hesitations as to our abilities to run a company that handles sensitive medical information. I don't think I need to tell you how important this deal is. We need to take care of this ourselves, unless you want me to send Robin?” I can hear the challenge in his voice as my chest constricts.

“How long do you think I will be there?” I ask, avoiding his antagonizing, my mind flashing to the boys… and then to Ana..

“Does it matter, Sam? As long as it takes. I already spoke with Sofia, she is going to go with you. I have some briefs and copies of all the contracts being sent to your office now. You will need to read them all to get caught up. I also scheduled you the jet for tomorrow morning.”

My head falls back as I close my eyes.

“Sam?”

“Yeah, yeah, dad, I heard you. I will be there soon.”

“I’ll be in your office at noon.” He ends the call.

I glance down at my watch, it's already 11. FUCK.

I look at my office door, time to do whatever needs to be done.

I walk quietly through the penthouse, running over the words in my head. I hear the twins in their room, and I decide to start with them. When I see Ana putting their laundry away, my breath gets caught in my throat. At least you only have to say this once…

“I’m about to go into the office, but I wanted to talk to you first.” I say as I walk into their room.

I watch out of the corner of my eye as Ana turns towards me. I move further into the twins room and take a seat on the edge of the lower bunk bed. Mason and Mickey stand in front of me.

“What’s wrong, Dad? You look sad…” Mason’s face drops when he notices my crestfallen expression.

“I’m not… sad. I just know you’re not going to like what I have to say.” I take a deep breath and clear my throat.

“Then you gotta just rip it off. Like a Band-Aid.” Mickey smiles.

“Right, like a Band-Aid.” I keep my eyes fixed on the twins but I can feel the heat from Ana’s gaze. “I have to go to Italy for a business trip… as soon as possible.”

A silence settles over the room as the twins look between themselves..

��What? You’re fleeing the country, just like that?” Ana breaks the palpable silence.

“I wouldn’t call it ‘fleeing’. Dalton Enterprises has been in negotiations for months, and after the Milan breach… well my dad just doesn’t trust anyone else to handle it.”

“What about us?” Mason murmurs sadly.

“Aunt Sofia isn’t staying here, is she?” Mickey's eyes are wide.

“No, she’ll be in Naples with me. But don’t worry, you won’t be alone. You’ll have Ana.” I turn to face Ana and her gaze is focused on the twins, but I can see the hurt in her emerald eyes.

“Let’s not overreact here. It’s just a flight and some meetings, right? I bet your dad will be back before you know it.” A smile trains on the corners on her lips as she tries to brighten the mood.

I wish that was all…

“Actually… depending on the negotiations, I could be gone a couple months.”

“A couple months?” Mickey shouts.

“But… that’s the rest of summer.” I look at Mason and see only one thing: disappointment.

“Seriously, Sam? That’s so long! For the boys I mean.” Her eyes fall to the floor.

“My parents were often overseas for months at a time when I was younger. They’ll survive.” I hate the words as they leave my lips.

“But don't you want them to do more than just survive?” She looks up at me in concern.

“I’m trying to not let emotions cloud my judgement here. I don't have a choice in the matter.” I clench my jaw.

“You always have a choice, Sam.” Her eyes hold mine.

I take a deep breath turning my attention back to the twins.

“Can we at least come visit you while you’re gone?” Mason is picking at a piece of string that is fraying from his blanket.

“Of course, buddy. I’m sure we can work something out. In the meantime, why doesn’t Ana take you two out for the day?” I rest my hands on the twins' shoulders. “I’ve got to prepare for my trip, but we’ll have a special dinner tonight before I go. Promise.” I wrap my arms around them and bring them tight to my sides. I wish I didn't have to leave you… someday you will understand. I hope.

I walk out of the twins room, avoiding the heat from Ana’s gaze as she watches me.

***

The words all run together as I sit at my desk and try to read the briefs from Italy. My office door opens and my eyes meet my fathers’s as he strolls in and sits in the leather chair in front of me.

“Did you read all of those?” He asks gruffly, his eyes flicking down to the papers that are strewn across my desk.

I collect all of them into a stack as I avoid his gaze. “I got the jist.”

A silence settles between us and I can feel his eyes trained on me. When I finally raise my gaze, he narrows his eyes and his mouth sets in a thin line. “What’s going on with you, Sam?”

“Nothing, Dad, I’m just tired. Didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Don’t insult me, I know you better than that. You are distracted, you have been since your mother and I got back from Italy. Have you been drinking too much again?”

I raise my brow at him incredulously. “Dad.”

“Is it that pretty nanny of yours?” He says mockingly.

My eyes fall to the stack of papers.

“Oh, son. Really?”

“No, dad, it-it’s not her.” Boy that wasn't very convincing.

“Yes it is. I know that look.” A long silence stretches and I avoid his gaze. “Remember Pam?”

I meet his eyes. “Aunt Pam, your old secretary?”

He purses his lips and nods. He takes a deep breath, clearly warring with what he wants to say next. “It only lasted a few months, and your mother knows nothing about this.”

“Wait, you had an affair?”

“It’s not something I am proud of. But let me tell you something. Women like her, and your nanny…” He waves his hand dismissively. “Are only good for one thing, son.” He leans forward in his chair and arches his brow. “And it’s not making you the man that you need to be to run this company.” He leans back, steepling his fingers on his knees. “Now, a woman like Sofia, that is who is going to take you far in life, and bring you where you need to be.”

I’m fucking speechless. I can’t defend my honor, or Ana’s. Because what if he’s right?

***

My phone dings with a text, Ana.

Ana: Heading back, ETA 20 min

Ana: You need us to pick anything up on our way?

Ana: Or do you have the special dinner all planned out?

Fuck. I’m not getting out of here for at least another hour.

Sam: About that…

Ana: Why am I not surprised? This is becoming your MO.

I clench my jaw.

Sam: What’s that supposed to mean?

Ana: You’re a smart man. Figure it out.

I whisper a quiet fuck and I see Robin’s head snap up.

“Trouble at home?” He asks, as a cocky smile spreads across his face.

I ignore him.

Sam: Ana…

Ana: I’ll take care of dinner for the boys sake. But you’d better come up with an AMAZING apology dessert for them.

Sam: I am sorry to bail on this

Sam: I will bring something home for dessert.

Sam: Okay?

She doesn't respond, and I pinch my eyes closed in frustration.

I turn back to the final pages of the contract with LEMA before sighing and throwing it to the table.

“Find anything?” Robin asks.

“No. And I need to go home. I need to spend what little time I have left in the city with the boys.”

“Go, I will make sure all of this makes it onto the jet tomorrow morning.” Robin leans back in his chair. “You know dad wants me with you tomorrow, right?”

I stop in my tracks and slowly turn to him. “No. I was not aware of that.”

He shrugs his shoulders and crosses his leg over his knee. “Now you do.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, and decide against saying anything else. Can just one thing go my way today? I grab my keys and phone, stuffing them into my pocket. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“See ya.” He waves as I walk out of the door.

***

I walk into the foyer with my suitcase, setting it next to the elevator doors just as they ding open and Ana, Mason, and Mickey step out.

“Welcome back. Did you three have fun at the museum?” My eyes are locked on Ana, sadness filling her emerald eyes. My chest constricts as my thoughts are haunted by my fathers confession.

“The museum was alright but dinner was even better! We stopped at a food truck festival on the way home.” Mickey chimes.

“I tried a poke bowl!” Mason is vibrating with excitement.

“Really? Did you like it?” I ask him, surprised.

“It was amazing!” Mason cheered as he pushed his glasses up his nose.

“And we got something for you!” Mickey gestures to the bag in Ana’s hands.

“That was thoughtful of you.” I look at Ana as she hands me the bag, not meeting my gaze.

“It was their idea.” She murmurs looking down at the boys.

I look inside of the paper bag, Kung Pao… god it's my favorite. “I love Kung Pao. How did you know?”

“Just a lucky guess.” Her tone is even and neutral. Distant.

“Right.” I take a breath, clearing my throat and turning back to the boys.

“Why don’t you two wash your hands, then head into the kitchen for your special dessert?” The boy's eyes widened.

“On it!” They race toward the bathroom, leaving Ana and I alone in the hallway. Still avoiding my eyes, she breezes past me into the kitchen. I follow her slowly, watching the soft sway of her hips.

“Ana.” She stops in her tracks and I see her shoulders tense.

“Yes?” She slowly turns towards me.

“Thank you for dinner, for both me and the boys. I shouldn’t have backed out of my promise to have a special meal with them.” My apology comes out even and measured as I watch her carefully.

“No, you shouldn’t have.” She says matter of factly, her eyes finally rising to mine. She sighs softly. “And you’re welcome.”

“It really looks delicious.” I set the container on the counter, taking a big bite with a fork. My eyes are trained on hers and I can see her face soften.

“You’ve got a little…” She grabs a napkin, stepping up slowly and reaching up to wipe at my lip.

The smell of jasmine and Ana fill my senses as our breath mixes in the air between us.

“Oh…” I whisper in surprise at the intimate gesture.

“... All better.” She smiles softly up at me, her emerald eyes piercing. An electric charge lingering in the space between us.

The moment is broken when we hear the boys running towards us in the kitchen. She takes a step back, turning away from me.

“Dessert time!” Mickey cheers as he slides into the kitchen.

“What’re we having?” Mason shifts from foot to foot.

“I thought you’d like to make some s’mores…” I know they are your favorite.

“With the mega-big marshmallows?” Mickey’s eyes grow wide. God, I am going to miss these kids…

“Of course.” I match his smile and gesture towards the platter of s’mores supplies laid out on the counter.

“I’ll, uh, leave you three to it.” Ana says softly as she slowly backs out of the kitchen.

“Where are you going? You haven’t even had s'mores yet!” Mason turns to Ana.

“I don’t want to intrude on father-son bonding time with your last night together.” She smiles softly at Mason.

“You wouldn’t be intruding.” I say hopefully. Please stay…

“Still… you should have some privacy.” She holds my eyes for a moment longer before turning and walking out of the room. What have I done?

***

I am sitting in the dim lighting of my office. My fingers wrapped around a glass of Eagle Rare Bourbon as I gaze out of the window. My thoughts are a jumbled mess as I bring the tumbler to my lips. I hear the door open slowly and I glance over to see Ana enter quietly, clicking the door shut behind her.

“I thought I might see you again tonight.” I say as I turn my focus back towards the city lights outside.

“Sam, we need to talk about us.”

I can sense the sadness behind her words.

“Ana…” I sigh as I look at her with regret.

I see her shoulders tense as she balls her hands up into fists at her side. Red hot color rising on her cheeks.

“You owe me this, Sam. Don’t pretend like you don’t.” Anger drips from her every word.

I take a deep breath and give her a small nod, but I have no words. I get lost in my own thoughts again... You’re right… but I have no idea what to say to you. There is nothing I can do about this fucked up situation I put us in… I am so sorry that I dragged you into this mess. I am a selfish man that longs to be with you… but I have no control.

“We had sex last night, Sam.” Her voice cracks.

My chest tightens.

“I haven’t forgotten.” My eyes still trained on the city lights outside.

“It feels like you want to. In fact, it feels like you’re running halfway around the world because of it.”

My breathing gets shallow as she takes a step towards me, the anger rolling off of her in waves.

“You’re a lot of things, Sam, but I never took you for a coward.” Her voice laced with contempt as she stepped in front of me.

My eyes flick to hers as a new emotion bubbles to the surface: anger.

“A coward?” I whisper as I lift to my feet and we stand face-to-face.

“You heard me.” She tips her nose in the air. “You could have walked away last night.”

I can't help the humorless laugh that escapes my lips. How does she not understand that I cannot control myself around her?

“I wish that were true.” It would make my life a whole hell of a lot easier. God help me, I can’t resist you.I reach up and run my fingertips down her cheek, watching her shudder at my touch, but her expression remains guarded and angry.. “I’ve been trying to walk away from you since the moment we met. Yet somehow… I always end up back here.”

She steps back out of my reach, crossing her arms in front of her chest. My eyes scan down the length of her body.

“That’s not good enough, Sam.” Her eyes bore into mine.

God Dammit woman.

“Let’s get one thing straight here, Ana. The timing of this trip may seem suspicious to you, but I don’t want to go. I have to go.” I take a step toward her, narrowing my eyes. “And every time I look at you, it’s a reminder of what I’m leaving behind.”

Her eyes widen as her anger starts to slip. “Really? You aren’t relieved to have an escape?”

“No! This is so much worse.” I take a deep breath, trying to reign in my anger. My urge to control her and have her bare before me is making my cock twitch. I watch as Ana turns and steps to the window. The war inside of my head battles on before I finally give in. I step up behind her, running my nose along the sensitive skin below her ear before grabbing her hips and pulling her against me. I feel her body melt into mine. She turns to face me, and I place my hands on either side of her head, the cold glass a welcome reprieve from the heat coursing through my veins. I press my desire against her and I watch as her eyes darken.

“Sam, you should fire me now.” She whispers. “Neither one of us has the strength to resist. Stopping cold turkey is the only answer. You go to Italy, conquer the business world, marry Sofia. I’ll move out and find something else. We both walk away, hands clean. Well… as clean as they can be.”

I can see it in her eyes that she doesn’t believe the words she is saying, but it doesn't stop them from stinging my heart.

“My hands aren’t clean, Ana. How can they be, when I think about you every time I touch myself?” My eyes flick down to her plump, pink lips. “Or when I want to murder the next man who touches you?”

“Then what’s the endgame here? What do you want?” She pleads, her eyes shining in the dim light.

“I want you, dammit.” I confess.

She grabs the lapels of my suit and pulls me even closer to her curves,

“Prove it.” She challenges, her eyes dark.

She brings her lips to mine and our lips ignite into a frenzy of heat and frustration. I bring my arms around to her lower back and pull her hips snug to mine. A sudden feeling of regret passes through my mind and I pull back, a question in my eyes.

“Ana…” I warn.

“Don’t think. Just feel.” She purrs as she pushes my jacket off of my shoulders. She runs her fingernails across the back of my neck softly before pulling my lips down to hers again. I grab her hips, spinning her around and pinning her back against the cold glass of the window. She gasps at the sensation as I grab her wrists and pin them over her head. I use my free hand to roam the planes of her curves, her body igniting under my touch.

“Sam...” She moans as her eyes flutter shut.

I find the hem of her shirt and dive underneath, finding the lace of her bra, I run my fingers along the gentle curve of her breasts. Her chest heaving and pushing her perfect body into my eager hands.

“Has it really only been a day since I last touched you like this?” I whisper against her lips. “Already feels like a lifetime ago…”

She arches her back, pressing deeper into me as I let out an involuntary moan. God the things this woman does to me…

“Can you really go the rest of the summer without this?” I can feel her smile against my lips.

“I can’t even go the next five minutes without it.” I admit as my cock hardens uncomfortably in my pants.

I reach down and cup her ass, picking her up and carrying her to my desk. I sweep everything off of my desk and lay her down. Her emerald eyes dark with desire as she watches me remove every article of her clothing, throwing them haphazardly around the room. Her chest rises and falls, and her lips are swollen with our kisses. I kiss each piece of newly exposed flesh, the soft moans coming from her lips a sound of pleasure and surrender.

“God, I want to eat you up…” I say against her hip. She looks down at me and takes her bottom lip between her teeth.

“You’ve gotta earn that privilege.” A challenge in her eyes as she sits up and places her hands on my chest, pushing me away from her. Her nearly naked body glowing in the colored light from the Tiffany Lamp.

“Ana?” I ask.

“You’ve been a naughty boy, Sam.” She purrs. “And you know what that means, I’m going to tie you up.”

“Fuck.” I whisper and her words send another surge of heat and desire through me. I watch as she gracefully slides off of the desk, motioning for me to sit down in my chair.

“Wait. Undress first.” She leans in and skims her fingers across my chest, then tugs lightly on the flap of my shirt. “I don't want to have to deal with this later.”

You naughty, fucking minx.

I quickly strip off my clothes, my eyes never leaving hers as I take a seat in my chair, resting my arms on the armrests. I watch her carefully as she digs through a drawer in my desk, pulling two spare computer cords out. I watch as her steady hands tie my forearms and wrists to the chair. My eyes travel across her barely clothed body and I think of all the things I wish to do to her perfect ass.

She steps back, a look of pride flashing across her eyes.

“Aren’t you a sight?” She smiles as she looks at me hungrily.

“Ana…” I murmur.

I tried to move my arms, but she did a damn good job tying me down.

“This isn’t fair. I want to touch you.”

“Oh… You want to talk about not fair?” She clenches her jaw as she saunters up to me, the movement of her hips accentuated by the delicate fabric. “Everything that’s happened today hasn’t been fair.” Her eyes narrow at me as she leans towards me. She is careful not to touch me but I can feel the electricity crackling between us. Her perfect breasts are right in front of my face and I know she can feel my hot breath against them. “And now you’re being punished for it.” She stands up and gracefully hops back up onto my desk.

She leans back, spreading her legs wide open, revealing every single perfect inch of her perfect body to me. I watch her fingers slide down her curves until they come to rest between her legs, slipping underneath her panties to rub at her center.

Fuck me.

“Ohmygod…” I moan as my cock hardens more than I even thought possible. The throbbing is almost unbearable as I watch her fingers spread the moisture that is pooling in between her legs. Her head lulls back as moans escape her lips.

“Ohh, YES!” She cries out, her body tensing.

My eyes are trained on her perfect cunt as she worships it with her fingers. My breathing is growing labored as I think about all the things I want to do. Her hips are bucking as she nears her edge.

“Ana, please…. Let me touch you.” I beg, my voice husky. I can’t help but lick my lips as I think about her sweetness.

Her eyes open and her fingers slow as she considers me.

“I don't know… Have you been punished enough yet?” She smiles.

“No… but I can’t make it up to you properly unless you let me touch you. Please.” I am not above begging at this point.

She leans forward, and I watch her untie the cords from my wrists. As soon as I can tell that I am free, I reach up, grabbing her body and hauling it into mine. I bring my lips to hers and kiss her deeply, tasting her, reveling in the feel of our tongues together. I stand up, pressing her back down on the desk and I grab the delicate lace of her panties and push them down her thighs.

“I haven't been able to think about anything else all day…” I whisper against her lips. I can feel her smile. “You drive me to distraction even when you aren’t spread out in front of me…”

“And now?” She asks as she arches her back up off the desk.

I trace a delicate line up her bare legs, slowly teasing my way to her center.

“And now… I can barely control myself. I want to devour you.” I growl.

She leans back and spreads her legs wider.

I stand up and run my eyes slowly over every single piece of her exposed flesh, she blushes that delicious color.

The most beautiful thing I have ever fucking scene.

“Yes… I love seeing you open like this for me.” I murmur as my eyes scan her body over and over again, lingering on her exposed cunt.

I drop to my knees, and lower my mouth between her thighs as I lap up her pooling moisture. I watch as her eyes flutter closed, her eyelashes laying like fans across her cheeks. Her breathing intensities and her moans echo around the room. She calls out my name in ecstasy.

“If you want me to make this up to you properly, then you can’t come yet.” I challenge her. “Can you do that, Ana? Can you hold back until I tell you?” I punctuate my question with a devilish twirl of my tongue and she gasps.

“Yes! Sam… bring it on. I can take whatever you have to give. Don’t hold back.” She is panting and her perfect cunt is dripping for me. Her eyes find mine and I can see the challenge accepted. Good girl.

I trail kisses back to her center, dipping and tasting her pooling wetness. So fucking sweet. Her body shivers as I continue to flick my tongue against her. I reach down and grab my aching cock, running my hand up and down the throbbing shaft.

“Oh god… I’m gonna…” Her body starts to tense and my pumping increases.

“Already? I thought you said you could take it.” I say, my lips moving against her.

I feel her body tremble as she moans.

“Ohmygod, that feels… Sam, don’t stop.”

Never, beautiful. I will never stop doing this to you.

I groan out her name as the pleasure in my body nears the edge, my tongue continuing to flick at her exposed flesh. I call out her name as I find my release and I feel her body tense as she cries out mine. We ride out each other's orgasm, ecstasy blinding me.

Eventually her body sags against the desk, her breathing rapid. I stand up and wrap my arms around her body, bringing her tight to me as our breathing slows.

I untangle myself from her and we both stand and get dressed in a silence that is thick with tension.

The reality of what just happened hits me hard as I watch her button up her silk blouse.

Fuck. Again. No fucking control, Dalton, you total fuck up.

Without a word she moves towards the door, lingering with her hand on the door knob.

“Sam, I-”

“I’m sorry, Ana. I didn't mean to get so carried away. It won’t happen again.” I interrupt her, saying the only thing I can think of at this moment… words I regret as soon as they escape my lips.

I watch as confusion spreads across her face and she gives me a silent nod.

“My flight leaves early. I’ll be gone before you wake up…” I say softly.

“Oh. I see. I guess this is… goodbye.” She looks down at the floor, her fingers playing at the hem of her shirt. She wraps her arms around herself and slowly begins to slip out of the door.

“I shouldn’t have dragged you into this mess. You deserve so much better than me.”

My words halt her in her tracks. She looks over her shoulder at me, and I see her eyes shining.

“I can decide what I ‘deserve’ for myself.” She walks out of the room without another word, and I am left even more pissed with myself than I was this morning. I sit down at my desk and run my hands through my hair.

She’s right… you are being a coward. I am avoiding this shit storm I created for myself by running away…

I sip another glass of bourbon as I come to the only solution I can think of: postpone my trip to Italy, and even though it will probably bite me in the ass… Ana and the boys have to come with me. My stomach sours at the thought of Robin getting a hand on this before me… but I shove the thought aside.

That's it.

***

I nurse my second cup of coffee as I watch the sunrise through the windows. I hear soft footsteps walking down the hallway and I swallow my nerves. Ana rounds the corner and stops short when she sees me, a glimmer of hope and surprise flashing through her eyes.

“Sam?! What’re you going here? I heard you leave this morning…”

“I did a lot of thinking last night, but I didn’t come to a conclusion in time to cancel my car earlier.” I try to control my excitement.

“What conclusion?” She asks carefully.

“That you were right. I was being a coward and running away from my problems. I sent Robin ahead and postponed my meetings to next week so I could do this right. I’m turning this business trip into a family vacation for all of us.” Her face lit up.

“You mean…” A smile playing on her lips.

“Pack your bags, Ana. You’re coming with me to Italy.”

#choices the stories you play #choices sam dalton #choices #choices fanfiction #choicestna #fanfic #choices fanfic writers creations #n*fw #the nanny affair #sam dalton #m!sam dalton #m!sam x mc

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nevergettingoverwincest · 3 years

Text

yet another prequelgate fix it

Jensen had a 6am call on Friday, which meant getting up at 4:30 if he wanted to work out first, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was actually not 25 anymore, so he was asleep when the storm broke.

His publicist, Kelly, had let him know two weeks ago after the fifteen minute Deadline interview that she would be working with the networks’ PR people on an announcement about development, and he had texted her back a thumbs up and gone back to spending fifteen hour days on set and cramming in brief calls to his family during the dinner break. She sent him a text around dinner time like she always did when she updated his Twitter or Insta for him. A couple of hours later, he’d gone to bed.

The only phone numbers that would ring through his do-not-disturb settings were Danneel, his parents, and his manager, so he was woken at the ass-crack of dawn by his normal alarm. As soon as he silenced his alarm, dozens of text and missed call notifications popped up and Jensen felt a swoop of dread that never got less unpleasant for all its familiarity. He opened the ones from Kelly first.

10:28pm - Bit of a situation

10:45pm - Call me when you get this

12:18am, which was 3 am in LA, jesus - Check your email before you check twitter tomorrow

With some trepidation, he opened his email and clicked on the one from Kelly at the top of his inbox that just said “situation summary”

It only took a minute or two to scan it, but he felt his stomach drop sickly. “Shit,” he said aloud to the empty room, and then rasped his palm over his jaw and muttered, “Fuck,” with feeling.

His first instinct was to call Jared immediately, but he stopped with his thumb hovering over the speed dial icon. 5:30 in Texas - Jensen had no idea whether that meant Jared was sound asleep or already on set. And wasn’t that the crux of the problem right there? He’d spent the last fifteen years knowing Jared’s call times as well as he knew his own, along with every other minute detail of his life, all without ever having to think about it.

Instead he sent a text - hey dude. call me

Then he called Kelly - it was almost 8 in California at least. The rundown she gave him wasn’t that different from what had been in her email, and her familiar soothing patter wasn’t as helpful as it normally was after a PR snafu because it wasn’t just a bad headline or a quote out of context that had upset some fans. That stuff was easy to ignore with his Twitter notifications blissfully turned off. This was Jared.

Danneel sent him a text around 9am - love you. you okay? - He sent her back a poop emoji and got a heart in return.

“Dude,” Karl said when they ran into each other outside makeup between shoots. He had a latex gash crafted over one eye and colorfully bloody makeup all down his cheek.

“I know,” Jensen said.

“Sorted it with your boy yet?”

“Waiting for his call.”

Karl shrugged. “See you on set. Want me to grab you coffee?” Jensen liked Karl.

His phone finally rang just past noon. They were in the middle of a shot when he felt it vibrate in his pocket, and he didn’t mean to break but his expression must have slipped with his desire to check the call because the director called “Cut! More blue steel, less constipated, Ackles.”

He pulled the phone out of his pocket, heart pounding. “It’s Jared. Can I...?”

There was a ripple of acknowledgement in the studio and the director waved a hand. “Take 10.”

Jensen had already missed the call by then, so he slipped out behind the sound stage and called Jared back. “Hey.”

“Dude,” Jared said, and something unknotted in Jensen’s stomach. Jared was pissed at him, rightfully, but they could handle pissed.

“I fucked up,” Jensen said, because there was no reason to deny it.

Jared made a strangled laugh. “No kidding. Want to give me the inside scoop on this project that I guess is actually happening?”

“Maybe happening,” Jensen corrected. “It’s still really early. Exploratory phase. And honestly the pitch and network commitment all happened really fast. Eric got his weight behind it and it went from just an idea to a script commitment since we last talked.”

“You could have texted me. Hell, you could have sent a carrier pigeon. Hey dude you know that show we built together from the fucking ground up for fifteen years? Just finished a great meeting with some execs, they’re thinking of picking up a prequel!”

Jensen just barely resisted the urge to rub his face, remembering his make-up at the last minute. “I know. Fucked up, like I said. I just. I dunno, forgot that you don’t know everything about my life anymore. What happened to you reading my goddamn mind all the time?”

“Guess it doesn’t work long distance,” Jared said, not quite as humorous as it could have been.

“Guess not.” Jensen chewed on his lip. “Still friends?”

“Still brothers, asshole,” Jared said, and Jensen felt himself start to smile genuinely for the first time all day. “I expect to hear all about this thing going forward.”

“Yeah. For sure. I mean, we don’t even know if it’ll happen.”

“It’ll happen, dude,” Jared said, “You’ve got this.” And that was the guy Jensen had loved for the last decade and a half - encouraging even when he was upset, quick to anger but forgiving almost to a fault.

“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, anyway. But you’ll definitely hear about it.”

“I’d better,” Jared growled. “My publicist gave me another earful about letting her have control of my Twitter, and it’s definitely all your fault.”

“I guess I deserve that ,” Jensen said, smiling down at the pavement between his boots. “I take zero responsibility for your bad decisions on social media except in this one case.”

“I’ll buy her flowers and send you the bill.”

Jensen barked a laugh. “Do that.” A PA stuck her head out the side door, motioning for him to wrap it up. He blew out a breath, chest aching. “I’ve got to get back to set.”

“Me too. I’m pretty sure my entire directorial team and half my cast are waiting outside my trailer for the incident report. I’ve been a mess this morning.”

“Sorry,” Jensen said again. “Fuck, I miss you, man.”

Jared sighed in his ear, a rush of static over the line. “Miss you too. I’ll see you back here when filming wraps?”

“Next stop after I kiss my wife and kids,” Jensen promised.

“Do I get a kiss too?” Jared joked, and Jensen grinned to himself. They were gonna be okay.

#j2 #prequel gate #fix it #my writing

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winterscaptain · 4 years

Note

i really love a joyful future bc its so soft!! but like imagine Jack and Hotch talking about Haley after the twins are born, like having time alone with one of your parents when you have so many siblings is already kind of hard pressed so like imagine idk the anniversary of her funeral or something and they talk about her and go out for ice cream or whatever and then come back and they both are kinda down bc theyre sad but then like seeing everyone cheers them up even a little :( i cant,,,

haley day

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader a joyful future fic

oops i made it a fic and its only a little off topic! please forgive any errors - i wrote this in like two hours yikes

universe: a joyful future words: 2291 warnings: discussion of death

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed! edited: november 27th, 2020

When you woke up, Aaron was already gone. There was a note on his pillow, and you stretched as you reached over for it.

Jack and I are off for our hike at Maryland Heights. We’ll be back sometime in the late morning/ early afternoon. We won’t have service until we’re back down the mountain - don’t be nervous if you don’t hear from us.

We’ll swing by to pick everyone up so we can go visit H all together. I’ll call when we’re an hour out.

I love you.

You held the note to your chest for a moment before slipping it into the manila envelope in your bedside drawer. You kept all of Aaron’s little notes - post-its from work, little things in your go bag, notes from mornings like this. They brought an absurd amount of joy to you, and he kept writing them, so you kept keeping them. You weren’t even sure if he knew you kept them, but you supposed some little fun secrets were good for a marriage every once and a while.

Isaac was already up - your sweet boy, with a bowl of cereal in his lap and cartoons on.

“Good morning, my love,” you said to him as you passed, kissing him on the head.

He wiggled in his seat. “Hi, momma.”

You continued into the kitchen, making yourself a cup of (already brewed) coffee. “How long have you been up?”

“I woke up when Jack and Daddy were getting ready, but I couldn’t fall back to sleep so Daddy put the TV on and put cereal where I could reach it and told me I was only allowed to wake you up if there was a fire or someone got hurt.”

You huffed a laugh at his matter-of-fact tone - imitating Aaron beat for beat. “Is that so?”

He nodded.

You returned with your coffee mug and planted yourself next to Isaac on the couch.

“Momma?” He asked, after a little while.

“Mhmm?” You set your coffee down on the table and tucked your legs up under you, facing him.

“What’s Haley Day?”

You opened your arms to him, and he put his cereal down and curled into you. “Can we talk about Haley Day when Dad and Jack get home?”

He nodded and you pressed a kiss into his dark hair.

+++

The boys leisurely hiked the path in relative silence, enjoying both each other’s company and the scenery.

“How are you, Dad?” Jack asked, after a while.

“I’m good, bud.” He thought about it for a moment and laughed lightly to himself. “I’m really good, actually.”

A small smile crossed Jack’s face. “That’s good.”

“What are you thinking about over there?” Aaron said, noting the pensive expression on his son’s face. It was odd - it was a little like looking in the mirror, but Jack would pull these faces that were so Haley. It had startled Aaron more than once.

“Who says I’m thinking about anything?”

“I can hear you thinking.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Fuckin’ profiler.”

“Excuse me?” Aaron laughed. He was a stickler for language around the little ones, but he knew Jack swore like a sailor when he was out of the house.

“I said, fuckin’ profiler.” Jack tutted. “Looks like your hearing is failing you in your advanced age, old man.”

Aaron pointed at him, eyebrows raised. “Watch it.”

After a moment, they both broke, laughing out loud. They quieted after a minute, walking a little closer together.

“I’m just thinking about mom - Haley,” he clarified. “It kind of hit me this morning how…much that all was.” He looked at Aaron, brown eyes curious. “Are you okay, Dad?”

One side of Aaron’s mouth pulled up. “I’m alright. It was really hard for a while, but it gets easier to carry. I know you don’t remember, but you’re old enough now to know that the year before Haley died was...not great. That’s what I had the hardest time handling.”

“The divorce, right?” Jack’s head dropped as he looked at his feet, still marching confidently up the rock-lined path. Aaron was suddenly grateful, deeply so, for the gift of his son.

“Yeah. Certainly not a shining moment for either one of us, but I think she made the right choice. She was stronger than me by a long shot, and always managed to do what had to be done.”

Jack hummed thoughtfully, and Aaron knew he could take what came next.

“When she was killed, I had to grapple with the idea that she died angry at me.” Aaron looked up, letting the dappled light from the trees strike his face.

“I don’t think so.”

“What do you mean?”

Jack kept his eyes up, trained on the path, as he spoke. “I think that’s an easy way to feel guilty, but she didn’t die mad at you, Dad. Aunt Emily told me how brave you were, how you talked to her until you couldn’t anymore.”

Aaron opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted.

“Don’t be upset with Em. I asked and she told. Not her fault.” Jack pulled a mouthful of water from his pack before he continued. “I think she wanted you to know how much she loved you, you know? Like, Emily told me she reminded you to not be so serious all the time and to tell me stories about how much fun you guys had when you were young and cool.” He shot a smirk over to Aaron, who rolled his eyes with a smile. Jack squinted into the middle distance. “Were you mad at her that day?”

“No,” Aaron answered quickly. “Not at all.”

“What were you, then?”

“Scared.”

“Her too, probably.” Jack’s tone was simple, as if it was the easiest thing in the world to understand. Maybe it was. “You made her feel less scared and you kept calm, even when you were probably more scared than you’ve ever been in your whole life. I only remember her a little, but I think she’d love you for that, don’t you?”

Aaron was quiet for a moment, just looking at Jack as they walked. “When did you get so smart, kid?”

Jack shrugged. “You didn’t answer the question.”

Yep. He’s my son.

He couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his mouth as he retorted, “You’re right, I didn’t.”

Jack crossed the path to bump his father’s shoulder. They were almost the same height, and Aaron imagined Jack would pass him up by the end of the year. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Jack.” He reached up to ruffle Jack’s hair, but he ducked away just in time.

“C’mon, man.”

Aaron scoffed. “You are your mother’s son - that much is certain.”

“Which one?” Jack asked with a grin.

After a moment of thought, Aaron huffed another laugh and said, “Unfortunately, both.”

Jack’s grin softened. “You miss her, don’t you?”

“I do. But guess what?”

His brow furrowed.

“You remind me of her so much sometimes it’s like she’s right here with us, you know that?”

This time, Jack let his father muss the hair on top of his head. “Really?”

Aaron nodded. “All the time.” Then again, under his breath. “All the time.”

+++

Aaron called you around noon on the way back from Harper’s Ferry. “We’ll be home in about 45 minutes - traffic isn’t bad at all and we’re just now at the state line.”

“Sounds good, honey. I’ll start the ball rolling with the girls.”

You could hear a pair of chuckles on the other end of the line and perhaps a muttered “Good luck with that shit.”

Language, Jack Hotchner.

Chewing on your lower lip, you added, “Also, Isaac asked. I think it’s time - for him, at least.”

“Alright. We’ll go sit on the porch when I get home. Jack, are you good helping the girls get ready?”

“For sure,” Jack’s assent sounded a little distant, but it made you smile.

+++

You and Aaron settled on the porch swing with Isaac on your lap. Aaron held out his hands palm-up, and Isaac rested his little fingers on Aaron’s.

Aaron closed his hands around Isaac’s, holding his attention. It was something you two had established early on with the kids: when Dad holds both of your hands, look at him and listen.

“Mom told me you asked about Haley Day today.”

Isaac nodded.

“Before I tell you what Haley Day means, I want to remind you that Mom and I love all four of you exactly the same, okay?”

Isaac nodded.

“Alright, bud.” Aaron took a deep breath, and you smiled at him over Isaac’s head. “You know how you and Sophia and Caroline came out of Momma’s tummy?”

Little brown eyes looked back at you and you nodded encouragingly.

“Yes.”

“You know how Mom and I are married and wear these rings and live together?”

He nodded.

“And of course you know Aunt Jessica, right?”

A smile broke out across Isaac’s face as he nodded again.

“Before I was married to your mom, I was married to Haley. Haley is Aunt Jessica’s sister, and Jack came out of Haley’s tummy before your mom and I met.”

There was a little bit of confusion splashed across Isaac’s face. “So Momma isn’t Jack’s momma?”

You put your hands on his shoulders, and he looked up at you. “Not everyone is like you and me, bud. You came out of my tummy and I’m also your mom, but some people’s moms aren’t the same person they came out of. Does that make sense?” You were going to continue, but you closed your mouth.

We aren’t going to start the “not everyone has a mom” conversation today. Baby steps.

“So you’re still Jack’s mom, too?”

“Yes, sir,” you said with a smile. “But at the same time, Haley is also Jack’s mom. So he kind of has two moms, which is also a normal thing for some families. I’m what’s technically called a step-mom.”

He nodded sagely and said, “Some of my friends at school have step-moms,” but then his face fell into almost comical confusion. “Where did Haley go?”

You gestured to Aaron and Isaac whirled around. Aaron’s eyes flickered back to yours, and you returned his gaze with soft eyes.

Aaron took another breath before speaking again. “Haley died when Jack was four - just a little younger than you are now - and so it’s really important for Jack and me to have Haley Day so we can remember her and spend time together. Today is her forty-ninth birthday, and sometimes birthdays of people who died are really hard.” He swallowed, and his eyes misted over. He looked up at you.

It’s okay. Don’t hide from your son. It’s okay.

He blinked rapidly, and a few tears fell. Tears pricked at your eyes as well as Isaac scrambled off your lap and into Aaron’s.

“Mom said that people who have died can’t come back and you can’t see them anymore. Is that true?” He asked.

Aaron wrapped one arm around Isaac and placed his other hand on your knee. You grabbed it right away, holding him tight. “Yeah, bud. Mom’s right.”

“Do you miss her? Sometimes I miss my friends who moved and I can’t see them anymore.”

Aaron laughed and squeezed Isaac tight to his chest. “I do miss her. It’s a lot like when your friends move away. She was one of my best friends.”

“Is Mom one of your best friends?”

You brushed tears off your cheeks with your fingers and grinned at Aaron.

“Yes. Your mom is one of my best friends,” he said with a smile that matched yours. “And Mom knew Haley, too and they were friends. There are a lot of pictures of Haley and Jack and me and Mom on the bookshelf in the living room, but they’re a little high up for you to see them. I can show them to you later, if you want.”

There was quiet for a moment, as you both let Isaac process the concept of life and death and parenthood in his little four-year-old brain.

That’s a lot all at once.

“Do we get to do anything special for Haley Day?”

Aaron looked down at him, “Yes, sir. We’re going to go visit the place where she’s buried and then go out for ice cream. How does that sound?”

“Really good.”

“Really good, alright!” Aaron rose with renewed vigor, and Isaac clung to his neck as he readjusted his grip. “Can you go get some shoes on and we can go?” Isaac nodded and Aaron set him down with a pat on his shoulder.

You tucked yourself under Aaron’s arm as Isaac ran back into the house. Through the window, you could see Jack swinging Sophia up over his head as a reward for getting her shoes on. Caroline was attached to his pant leg, begging to go next.

“That went alright.”

He nodded. “Yeah, it did.” He kissed the side of your head and inhaled. “Thank you.”

You looked up at him. “For what?”

With his hand, he gestured vaguely to everything around you. “Being here, I guess?” He laughed lightly through his nose. “Just - thank you. I know it’s not always easy.”

You placed your left hand on his chest and rested your head against him as you spoke. “I know you worry, but I have never once felt like second-best or a replacement. Not even a little.”

“I do worry,” he said quietly.

“Don’t, please.” You patted his chest twice, a break. “Now, I believe we promised at least one of our children ice cream and I would hate to have a mutiny on our hands. We’re outnumbered two to one and I don’t need Reid to tell me those aren’t great odds.”

He laughed and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. “There’s no better partner to fend off hangry toddlers than you, darling.”

+++

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

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #tali writes fanfiction

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lunaraen · 3 years

Text

A Jesse Surprise

Written for Spirit, who requested Aiden/Jesse/Lukas, as part of the 2020 mcsm discord secret santa

Some uncharitable mornings, when Aiden is deep within the warm and dark embrace of slumber, he thinks he preferred the early dawn stirrings in New Sky City (he also personally prefers its unofficial name, Ground City, but it’s not like he’s winning these battles).

Even though sleeping on his cot, and then later his bed, was like sleeping on gravel, even though the guards who woke him had no interest in letting him have a smidgen of comfort they could steal and were themselves likely culprits who chucked bricks through the windows of the Blaze Rods’ shack of a home, even though his waking mind and the crash of reality remind him of how grateful and lucky he is to have the love and comfort he does now, the security and safety he could never count on in a city full of people he’d almost killed.

After all, back there and back then, he didn’t have Jesse and Lukas coaxing him out of sleep, sweetly and gently tearing him from that slumber, with sweet kisses and soft prodding.

He loves them with all his heart, but he’s not a morning person and they make it hard to scurry back into the cover of unconsciousness the way he wants to.

(Living in the Order’s temple has its ups and downs, even if it’s mostly ups with few downs.

Sappy wakeup calls on his days off fit into both categories.)

So, eloquently, he tells them exactly what he thinks about their loving plotting.

“Mmf. Stoppit.”

And alright, maybe it’s halfway muffled by the pillow his cheek is currently smushed against, but it’s not a whine.

“Ooh, somebody’s grumpy.” And he can hear Jesse’s grin, feels it a second later when they kiss his not-smushed-into-a-pillow cheek while Lukas nudges at Aiden’s ribs again with his cold fingers. Jesse’s eyelashes flutter against his skin. “I thought you didn’t want to sleep until noon again.”

Winter days may be shorter and generally darker, thick cloud cover and snow more often than not working as a dense curtain to block out the sun, but there’s no way it’s noon.

A little past nine, maybe. Ten, tops.

“Changed- grhg, changed my mind.” His groggy, groggy mind, which is more than happy to latch onto the luxury of sleeping in as much as he wants on days like today, days when he isn’t working and gets to stay snuggled up inside as much as he wants. His prodded body, crying out for mercy, has other ideas, and Aiden slaps at Lukas’s wrist, only halfway missing as he bats Lukas’s hand away and twists himself upright. “Ghk- Lukas, if you poke me one more time, so help me-!”

(He’s generally much better with his temper now than he used to be, taking a number of cues from Lukas, but sleepy-Aiden still needs to work on it.)

“Oh, good, you’re up!” The dual smirks he’s getting are utterly shameless, and Aiden groans as he slumps against the headboard, bitter taste of defeat impossible to ignore.

How do they manage it?

He’s not sure, but they always do.

(Maybe he should’ve just crashed with Maya and Gill at their place.)

“Yeah, yeah- alright, I’m up, I’m up.” Despite himself, Aiden can’t hold back the beginnings of a toothy and tilted smile. “What is it?”

“Jesse’s got something to show us.”

Aiden snorts, elbowing Lukas’s side as he slips out of bed onto the regrettably chilly floor.

“Like you don’t already know what it is.”

“He doesn’t! I made sure of that- it wasn’t hard, when I just had to get him focused on messing with you.” Jesse, still sitting on the bed, kisses Lukas on the cheek and smiles so sweetly, like honey in tea and a field of flowers on a sunny day and the inviting glitter of an enormous rainbow, and Aiden’s grumpy heart melts just a bit more.

Oh, they’re not innocent- far from it.

Jesse’s crafty and sneaky and absolutely pleased with themselves for how snugly they’ve got Aiden wrapped around their finger, but it’s always hard to stay mad at Jesse even when he knows all of that so well.

“Thanks for that, by the way.” Aiden saves his toes from the frigid floor, putting on his slippers as he brushes his bedhead back with still-sleepy fingers. “You know, there have got to be better ways to wake somebody up- shove some snow down my back next time, maybe, or just get me with a bucket of water.”

“Aw, but then I don’t get to let you know how much I love you!” Jesse’s tone is outright teasing before it drops into something more mischievous, practically cheeky. “And besides, we already know you’re a total sap.”

“I am not-”

“Aiden, I’ve known you for just about forever.” Lukas plays with the silver comb from Aiden’s nightstand, touching up his already-perfect hair as he gives Aiden a far too knowing look and wry smile. The wind continues its steady beat against the window as flurries flutter past. “I’ve seen you at your best and at your worst. Yeah, you totally are.”

That’s a bit of an understatement, all things considered- Aiden’s willing to make the argument that Jesse and Lukas bring out the best in him, and his worst was pretty bad, given that in involved chucking them into the void.

They’re willing to make the argument that Aiden, far more humble and reasonable as well as just smarter now than he was back then, is even more of a sap than words can say.

“And you’re totally letting me fix my hair before you drag me to gods know where.” Aiden’s not giving up on the tatters of his thrashed dignity, though, and he’s not admitting it any time soon. He snatches the comb out of Lukas’s fingers, already aware that there’s no way they’re going to wait and let him gel his hair the way he likes to after already waiting for him to wake up and then deciding to do the job themselves.

Is he bitter Lukas has clearly had the time to go through his own hair care routine? Maybe, but it’s Aiden’s own fault for sleeping in.

(He’s grouchy and anything but happy to greet the morning, but he can recognize that.)

“Nope!”

“Yeah, definitely not happening.”

“I love you.” Aiden tosses the comb back onto the nightstand as he yanks his jacket off the bedpost he last threw it onto, rolling his eyes as he shoves his arms through and shrugs it up on his shoulders. His cozy sleepwear doesn’t quite match with his jacket the way his usual outfits do, but it’ll work for a Jesse-trip. “So much.”

“We know!”

“Cool.” His fingers are clumsy, from sleep and cold alike, as he attempts to yank up the zipper before deciding to forgo it altogether. He doesn’t need to hide his nightshirt. They’ve seen him in far worse conditions, far crueler and horrendous states, than in his sleepwear. “Can’t wait to bump into somebody in the hall and have an awkward conversation about how I look like I just rolled out of bed.”

(They’d be right.)

Lukas laughs, light and loud, and it captures Aiden’s attention instantly, enthralling as ever.

(What’d Petra say- stupid, perfect Lukas? Fitting.)

“Trust me, we’ve all seen worse- everybody’s bumped into Ivor in the middle of the night.” Aiden winces. The less said about his sleepwear and how it ‘breathes wonderfully’, the better.

Half the time, Ivor’s wearing his robes during those chance encounters.

The other half of the time, not so much.

“Yeah, okay, fair enough.” He adjusts his jacket, and not for the first time since moving in wishes it had a hood he could flip up to hide his not-yet-right hair. “Is it in the backyard, or are we going further than that? Because if I need to get my boots, they should just be by the door.”

His coat should too, and it would be plenty warmer than his jacket.

“If Petra hasn’t stolen them.” Aiden has, rather unfortunately, ended up on the wrong side of the latest prank war, something Jesse’s endlessly amused by. They’re kind enough to help him out when he begs- if Petra has taken his boots, he’ll just beg Jesse to have a talk with Petra about forgetting the chorus fruit incident.

“Oh, she definitely did.” Lukas waves off his look of alarm. “You’re good- apparently Jesse’s surprise isn’t even outside.”

Better Petra than Axel, anyway, and if she didn’t, he would’ve.

“I can try something snow-related next time.” Jesse’s eyes just about sparkle as they toy with one of Aiden’s errant bangs, calloused fingers brushing against his skin as their other hand cups his cheek. “Remember that deal I struck? For that room in the basement?”

“Barely.” He leans into Jesse’s touch before leaning back, not deterring Jesse or their mischief in the slightest. His bangs don’t usually get the chance to be in the way like this, rather than neatly slicked back, and Jesse’s milking it for all its worth. “It wasn’t like you let us know a whole lot about it, other than that Cassie’s good at negotiating.”

Cassie Rose, a different sort of enemy Jesse and the others have helped and taken in even when most people would never consider it, spends much of her time in the sprawling and labyrinthine basement.

“Shrewd. I believe I said shrewd.” Jesse gives the bang one last flick before their expression softens. Aiden doesn’t know exactly what they traded or had to promise Cassie, but Jesse’s more than decent at negotiating themselves. “But yeah, she’s pretty good. Anyway, she’s been letting me mess around in that part of her domain, and that’s what I want to show you guys. After you have some breakfast, of course- Axel made the best pancakes.”

Axel makes good breakfasts the way Jesse worries about everyone not eating enough- as surely as the sun sets and rises.

“Jesse, it can wait.” Aiden holds up his hands, palms facing outward and fingers slightly curled, when Jesse narrows their eyes. “I promise I’ll have a good breakfast and enjoy those pancakes after you show us what you’ve been up to.”

That placates them, Jesse beaming as they grab his hand.

If Aiden remembers correctly, Cassie’s not the only one Jesse’s been working with on this, terrifying a thought as that already is.

He’s pretty sure their alchemist got roped into things.

It’s an interesting thought, if not a necessarily pleasant one, to be entertained by as they make their way through the temple, weaving through hallways and past busy rooms to the basement stairs.

Cassie and Ivor may be the ones directly involved, but the knowing looks and waves they get suggest that Lukas and Aiden are the only ones in the dark.

Harper’s grin at her workshop table is as impish as it is (probably) accidentally intimidating, thanks to the dark and glinting lenses of her goggles hiding her eyes entirely while reflecting sparks from the iron she’s cutting into.

Aiden’s always been a sucker for mysteries.

It’s not until they start descending, shoes and slippers silent against carpet before clacking against cold stone as the stairway becomes less and less like the hallways they were just in, that he nudges Lukas, slipping his free hand into Lukas’s to hold it loosely.

“So, what can we expect from Ivor and Cassie that’s not an inventive death trap?”

Lukas chuckles, lightly pressing his shoulder against Aiden’s own.

“Ivor’s not that bad.” Not to Lukas, maybe, but Aiden got a number of intimidating talks from the other Order members when he first moved back to this world. Ivor’s was the most… creative. “And Jesse’s involved too- it could be anything.”

They take a turn, moving away from the more used areas of the basement to the series of corridors and rooms Cassie’s claimed as her own.

“Pet witherstorms?” A year ago, when they were figuring this and so many other things out, Aiden wouldn’t even think of joking about the behemoth that hurt them and their world in so many ways, his spiraling scars aching even now under his jacket at the mention and Jesse’s less physical scars making it so that thunderstorms more often than not lead to panic attacks. They’ve healed in a lot of ways, though, all of them, and monsters of the past are more and more easily used for lighthearted jokes.

He himself is something of a monster of the past, and they’ve done an incredible job of letting him back into their lives and then some.

“Enchanted endermites.”

Another turn, this time to the right, the yellow-orange glow of regular torches switched with the gentler light of redstone ones.

“Talking cats.”

The back-and-forth reminds him of guessing games he and Lukas would play to pass the time, before, ages ago, back when it was easy to be bored and when having the most outlandish guess was as good as anything else.

“A tap-dancing-”

“Alright, alright, you can stop guessing.” Jesse pauses at a dark oak door, fingers resting on a handle that’s a lighter color than any of the ones they’ve already passed, and gives them a look that’s trying very hard to be exasperated and failing. Jesse loves with all their heart; it’s hard for them to not look adoring. “If you want to just go in and find out for yourselves, that is.”

First, he asks the question that’s been on his mind since they brought up the surprise.

“What’s the occasion?”

Aiden’s been keeping a close eye on every important event and celebration he can think of; all he knows about today is that it’s supposed to be an average Saturday.

“I just wanted to surprise you guys.” The door creaks as Jesse nudges it open, just as likely in genuine need of oiling as it is intended to make sounds for dramatic effect (Cassie has a penchant for the theatrical), and Jesse’s given up on hiding that small smile when they look back to him and Lukas. “With something we didn’t have to leave the temple for, or risk our lives over- we have plenty of adventures and things to do normally. This is just… something for us.”

Inside the room, likewise dimly lit with redstone torches, three plants Aiden has never seen before are growing from decent sized pots up and along the dark walls towards the even darker ceiling. They’re almost vine-like, with ruffled leaves that actually glow along the edges and symbols along the dark stems that look natural to the plant rather than carved or printed- looking again, Aiden can see that the symbols glow too, different colors.

Symbols that are more than interesting lines and curves, actual letters tilted this way and that as they spell out each of their names.

The one that reads Jesse has a red sword symbol at the base of its stem, while Lukas’s has a teal book and quill.

It takes him a third look to make sense of the image on the one spelling his name.

Instead of a book and quill, it’s a green book and sword, with the book placed over the sword- even if Aiden wasn’t a writer, he thinks he’d see the meaning pretty clearly, the focus on peace and positive changes.

He’s long since given up waving swords around recklessly, though he trains with Jesse and Lukas. He’s capable, but it’s not his first instinct when his temper flares anymore.

Aiden glances at Jesse, whose smile has somehow gotten even softer.

He’s a sap and he’s not crying about it.

(A quick glance at Lukas proves he’s in a similar boat, eyes shining with unshed tears and his hand over his mouth as he crouches in front of the plant spelling his name out in blue and purple characters.

If Jesse can give a bad gift, Aiden has yet to see it.

Lukas is more used to seeing the odd assortment of plants in Ivor’s lab than Aiden is, on account of having been there more, and even then he doesn’t seem any less surprised than Aiden feels.

Jesse’s ideas are often like that, born from looking at the same thing in a slightly different way.)

He clears his throat and brushes away the welling tears that aren’t there.

“Jesse, this is amazing.” Despite having cleared his throat, his voice wobbles just a bit, and Jesse open arms are too inviting to ignore. Even with as silly as he probably sounds and looks right now, their gaze stays warm. Aiden hugs them, tight grip only relaxing briefly when Lukas joins the hug in order to wrap an arm around him too. “Thanks. Looks like we’ll just have to find our own ways to surprise you.”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that.” Jesse squeezes them, feeling every bit the strong hero that they are, and gives a contented hum. “Just being able to do these things with you is more than enough.”

“I don’t think we could ever give you enough, Jesse.” Lukas presses a kiss into Jesse’s hair before doing the same to Aiden, his voice doing a slightly better job of staying strong despite the tear tracks shining on his cheeks. Aiden gives him a kiss in return, the quick peck on the lips making Lukas’s smile widen.

A fourth voice, one that perhaps shouldn’t be so unexpected, interrupts before they can get too cuddly.

“If you’re going to be sappy, take it anywhere upstairs.”

Cassie Rose leans against the doorway, her partner in crime meowing from where he winds between her legs, purring as he rubs against her pants.

Though not quite the senseless killer she once was, she’s certainly an efficient mood killer.

Winslow, not so much, even if there’s a playful glint of his own in his eyes.

The hug breaks, though no more than necessary, the three of them still standing close together even as Aiden shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Thanks, we’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’ve got a strict no-PDA policy.” She smirks, gaze shifting to Jesse as she points a thumb towards the nearest plant- Lukas’s. “Remember, the deal’s off once you take these upstairs and do whatever you’re going to do with them.”

“Got it.” Jesse’s thumbs-up placates Cassie enough to get a short hum out of her, and their smile stays bright as they turn their attention back to Aiden and Lukas. “Ivor said they should be fine as long as they’re kept out of direct sunlight. Even then, they’ll be alright for a while, but you won’t be able to see the glow very well.”

While Jesse explains and they nod, Aiden keeps an eye on Cassie out of the corner of his eye.

In spite of that close watch, even though he glances away for barely a moment, as soon as he opens his mouth to thank her, he finds she’s already vanished, her feline friend likewise missing.

Huh.

Oh well.

He’ll thank her and Ivor for their part in this later.

“Well, if we’re taking things back upstairs anyway, I guess we could head back to your room and cuddle properly.” It wouldn’t be hard for Lukas’s voice to be mocking, but it does a good job of riding the line between joking and being genuine, and it oozes affection regardless as he wraps an arm around Aiden’s shoulders. Aiden takes a second to appreciate how lucky he is to be here, to be with them, while his heart soars. “You know, let you get some more sleep.”

“Maybe do breakfast in bed.” Jesse’s voice is just as affectionate, and the idea of getting something to eat as well as some more rest doesn’t sound half bad.

Of course…

Aiden lets his head rest against Lukas’s shoulder, huff somewhere between a fresh groan of defeat and a laugh.

“Could’ve started with that.”

Jesse, in flagrant violation of Cassie’s policy, squeezes his side and kisses his nose, startling a lopsided smile out of Aiden.

“Less exciting that way.”

If there’s something he can count on here, with them, it’s always excitement, one way or another.

#My Stuff #fanfiction #mcsm #Minecraft Story Mode #Poly

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myjjbaby · 4 years

Note

okay so a jj request where the reader has been keeping it a secret from jj that she’s epileptic (they’re dating) and then one night when they’re at a party and jj gets into a fight and she gets really overwhelmingly stressed from trying to get him to stop that it triggers a seizure, maybe like only kie knows she’s epileptic or something?? idk i totally get it if u aren’t comfortable writing this i just love ur writing and yeah ((:

i didn’t know

author’s note - guess who’s back, back again!! here’s a request surrounding mental illness and I just want to note that I am in no way intending to romanticize epilepsy or seizures, I just think that someone could really benefit from having a story that might fit with them and including a form of comfort through writing. big thanks to @jjmaybanx for her help because she helped me figure out a way to best portray what I wanted to get across.

synopsis - requested by anon! you kept a really big secret and it all crumbles away along with your so called perfect day.

warnings - epilepsy, seizing, underage drinking, fighting, overall angst for 1.6k. if any of these topics are possibly triggering to you please don’t read and if you have any concerns including me feel free to reach out.

Today was a perfect day. The sunrise was peeking through the window of John B’s spare room when you woke up, your blue eyed boy wrapped around you. You spent the better half of the morning admiring his peaceful features, blushing when he caught your stare.

“Morning, baby,” he smothered your cheek with an open mouth kiss, giggles erupting as he wrapped you in his arms, “you liking your view.”

You hummed lightly in agreement and continued to stare lovingly at your boyfriend. He traced your face with calloused fingers, brushing along the bridge of your nose as he watched you flush. JJ pulled you into his chest and your head rested comfortably on his collarbone while he kissed your hair.

“C ‘mon lovebirds, time to catch the waves.”

JJ groaned at John B, throwing an empty beer can at the door.

“Fuck off, let me hold my girl. It’s too early, the waves probably suck anyway.”

“JJ, it’s half past noon. Let’s go,” the brunette threw a muscle tank and a red baseball cap at your boyfriend, “Kie and Pope are already in the van.”

You smiled before trying to slip out of his grip and climb off the navy sheets. JJ caught your wrist in his warm hand, pulling you back into his familiar hold.

“J, we’ve gotta get up.”

He shook his head, curls tickling the underside of your jaw. Not long after, the two of you were packed into the back of the rusty Volkswagen with your boards trapped to the top.

JJ held you in his lap, kissing your neck when you threw your head back with laughter. His hands slipped under the gray fabric top you stole from him and prodded at the bikini strings. You slapped his hand away but he just smirked and continued twirling the purple straps between his fingertips.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” John B’s voice broke through the lively chatter, “let me present to you the finest Outer Banks waves ever.”

And he wasn’t wrong, the ocean was still wild from the surge of the hurricane a few days ago and the curl of each wave crashed beautifully. The Pogues climbed out of the beat up van before unstrapping all of the surfboards, John B and JJ running ahead with loud cheers being carried by the wind. You giggled as you carried your board alongside Kie, stopping just short of the sea. Looking over at the tanned girl, you sent her a wink and a bump to her hip before gliding off after your boys.

“You left a couple waves for me?”

“Of course,” the blonde reached his hand out to squeeze yours, “always do.”

The water was cool, relaxing her muscles, and JJ smiled, watching you absorb the sunshine. You all stayed out on the waves until your fingers were pruned and your eyes couldn’t stay open from the amount of salt water splashed on you.

Drifting back to shore, JJ was quick to grab your hand and bring it up to his face for a kiss. You felt content when John B drove the group to the Boneyard, a metal keg placed between you and Pope. The first kegger of the summer to end a perfect day.

A filled red solo cup quickly found its way into your hand and the bonfire burnt brightly as everyone showed up. Your fellow resident of the Cut, the Kooks from Figure Eight, and those clueless Tourons. You noticed your boyfriend’s grip pulling you back into his chest, successfully stumbling you away from the drunk idiots who couldn’t take a hint when JJ glared at them.

“Bub, ignore them.”

“I can’t.”

You chuckled when he clenched his jaw with jealousy.

“You have no reason to worry,” he hummed, features softening when they set on you, “I’m all yours, J.”

The night seemed to carry on without a hitch until a smooth hand slipped its way over your thigh. The soft skin contrasted the familiar roughness of JJ’s touch. You slipped your body away from the stranger’s eager touch.

“Where you going, girly?”

“Away from you.”

“I think you should stay right here wi-“”

His vulgar suggestion was cut off by a ring covered fist that you could recognize anywhere. JJ pushed you behind him as he overshadowed the clueless drunk boy. You could feel the blonde’s anger coming off him in waves, hand clenching and ripping his arm away when you went to hold him back. Your boyfriend was blinded by anger and his protectiveness over you.

“Stay the fuck away from my girl, you hear that?”

“What’s your problem?”

Wrong move, dumbass. JJ’s back was tense with bottled emotions, his breathing labored as he watched the Touron stand up.

“My problem? You thinking it’s okay to grab my girlfriend or any girl like that, that’s my problem.”

Like a fuse run out, JJ lunged at the stranger as a harsh gasp escaped your throat.

“J!”

He was seeing red, too absorbed by his anger to notice your cries or fastened breathing. Kiara, however, noticed when your hand lifted to your shirt, grasping the fabric as strangled heaves pressed out of your body.

“Y/N? Y/N! Hey, hey, c ‘mon, don’t give out on me,” she watched as you stumbled into a dune, collapsing to the sand, “Y/N? You still with me?”

Kie watched as your gaze fogged over as if you were in a daze. She quickly moved the rocks and driftwood from near you and shouted for Pope or John B’s attention, the two boys rushing to your side.

“Pope, start timing. We’re about five seconds in right now.”

“Timing? That’d only happen if Y/N was having a sei- shit, okay.”

“John B, help me roll her onto her side.”

The two best friends turned you over as your arms began to tremble.

“Eleven Mississippi, twelve Mississippi…”

John B watched on helplessly before realizing JJ wasn’t by your side. Running back into the crowd and pushing through the circle formed around the fight, the brunette grabbed your boyfriend and tugged him towards you.

“Baby? Hey, hey, baby? Kiara? what’s happening?”

“She didn’t- she didn’t tell you,” Kie searched JJ’s panicked gaze for some kind of recognition.

“Tell me what? Kiara? What the fuck is happening?”

“She’s having a seizure! She’s epileptic! The fight must’ve overwhelmed her and triggered a seizure.”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know,” he mumbled to himself shuffling closer to your frozen body. JJ stared back at Kie before turning to your disoriented figure laying out of the sand. He fell to his knees beside you, grabbing your face to try and comfort you.

“JJ, don’t touch her!”

“What? Why?”

“You can’t just grab her when she’s like this. You need to cool off and wait for it to end.”

“I- I didn’t- I didn’t know. I didn’t know.”

Harsh sobs were pulled from his chest as he gripped his hair tightly. JJ had never felt so useless watching you, the girl he loved, struggling and he didn’t even know how to help you.

“W- Wh- What just, what just h- happened?”

Kie sighed when she watched you slowly come out of your stunned state. You glanced around bewildered not knowing where you were or how you got there.

“You had a seizure, Y/N. There was a fight and it just stressed you out,” she watched the panic cross your face again, “hey, it’s okay. Everyone is okay. You’re okay.”

You quickly scanned the group in front of you until your eyes landed on tear filled blue ones. You breathed in a short gasp seeing your boyfriend so torn up in front of you.

“JJ?”

He slowly inched towards you until he pulled you onto his lap like countless times before, but this time felt different.

“Could we have a minute?”

JJ glanced up at his friends before they all nodded and stepped away, clearing the infamous beach of the wandering partygoers. You didn’t dare look back up at the blonde boy, hating the pained look you knew would greet you if you did.

“I- I’m so sorry,” you fiddled with your fingers until he slowly gripped your own, pulling you deeper into his frame.

“Y/N, this isn’t something you can just keep from me.”

“I know, I know and I really am sorry. It was unfair of me to keep something like this from you. I just wanted to be normal.”

JJ nodded slightly, pressing a tender kiss to the crown of your head.

“I felt so hopeless. I didn’t know what the hell was happening and when I tried to help I just made it worse.”

“That’s my fault,” he vigorously shook his head, “yes, it is. I love you and should’ve told you.”

You sat in silence, JJ’s legs slotted between yours, his chin resting on top of your head. You leaned back and pressed your lips to his temple and the blue eyed boy returned the gesture with a soft smile. The silence was peaceful and perfect until JJ shifted to look down at you.

“Do you think I could get away with using the internet at work?”

“What? Why?”

“Hurricane knocked the towers down and I need to do some research, so I can take care of you.”

“I love you, J.”

“Love you too, baby.”

#jj maybank #outer banks #recs #like damn #outerbanksedit #obxedit #fic rec #jj maybank x reader #obx jj #i want a jj so someone please supply one #jj obx #jj x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj #jj imagine

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91percentpynch · 3 years

Text

lonely heart - kevaaron au pt 4

oh look it‘s me, coming out of my dark hole to make you suffer with a super sad chapter with a nasty cliffhanger:) so get your tissues ready and enjoy!! okay first of all sorry that i didn‘t update this in a g e s and that it‘s rather short and for the cliffhanger, but i‘ll try to update it more regularly now:)

check this out for the other parts:)

trigger warnings: drug abuse, mention of suicide, mention of mental health issues, very sad aaron, mention of blood

“You were too good for me”, Aaron whispered into the void. “You were way too fucking good for me. You made me a better man. And I fucked up”

Aaron got up as he felt the tears burning in his eyes. He knew he wouldn‘t be able to sleep alone tonight. Like every single goddamn night since he left Kevin. Like every single goddamn night since he made the biggest mistake of his life.

„Taylor?“, the blonde haired boy murmered, „You up?“

„Babe, you know I‘m up. My girlfriend lives three states away, we talk every single day at the same time as you call your man. Not that I would be able to sleep when you call him, cause a) i love Day and b) you‘re always sad and high and end up in my room anygays, so did he take the phone darling?“

Taylor was Aaron‘s roommate and the closest thing he had to a best friend. She had been there for him every single day, cuddled him, held him while he cried and dried his tears afterwards. And Aaron did the same when she misssed her girlfriend too much.

„You do realize he is not my man anymore, I fucked that up. Big time. He did actually take the phone just to tell me to fuck off and stop calling“

„You could always go over there and say it in his pretty face. Didn’t say you can’t come over did he?Pro point: Might lead to making out“, Taylor said while taking him in her arms. „Plus another pro point: you‘d get sober again. And you‘re less moody. No offense but a Kevin-less Aaron is hardly managable, like you‘re either a whiny little bitch or you‘ll give me the death glare of the cenutry. Legit worse than Andrew‘s and I called him a cute little baby boo once when I was drunk and he almost stabbed me right there with a look on his face like I just murdered Neil in front of him“

„Tay, I take that as a compliment. And we both know Kevin’s a bit of a dumbass so he did not exactly tell me Not To Come over just stopp calling. Anyways I don‘t even know where he lives. And stop talking about me getting high, you do the same shit“

„Yeah but I know my limits and I have not the same history as you. And for the i DoN‘t EvEn KnOwS wHeRe He LiVeS, phone number. Now“

„O- okay“, Aaron said and told her Kevin‘s phone number while Taylor calmingly stroked his back.

„Neat, got him“, Taylor said after a while. „He‘s with the scary big dude and his adorable little boyfriend I think? I have their address right here, I think we‘re gonna visit them tomorrow cause it‘s like 4 am right now and we don‘t wanna rob him his beauty sleep plus we don‘t want to wake the scary big dude. And I‘m pretty sure the adorable small golden retriver boy could and would stab us“

„Did you just stalk my ex and located his phone at 4 am like fucking Garcias in Criminal Minds?“, Aaron said confused.

„Anything for you big guy. And as I said I miss Day‘s pretty face, preferably in your pretty face so you shut the fuck up about how stressed and depressed and lonely you are.“, Taylor chuckled as Aaron looked at her shocked.

„Well I miss Casey, preferable in your face so YOU shut up“, Aaron was never as good in witty remarks as his brother. Especially high Aaron.

„Babe I think it‘s time for you to go to bed, you‘re not fun when you‘re sad, high and tired. Come here, let me cuddle you, while you whiney little bitch sleep“

Aaron slowly went over to Taylor and into her loving arms, laying down, trying to fall asleep.

After a long while aaron drifted into sleep, just to be greeted by familiar smaragd eyes. In his dream Kevin and he never broke up. Kevin was on top of him, his hands gently discovered Aaron‘s body, touching him as if he was sacred, something to worship. Kevin‘s lips were at Aaron‘s ear whispering sweet nothingness. Aaron‘s hips moved against Kevin‘s loving touch. „Stress release“ Kevin called these holy moments in dawn. „Highlight of my day“ Aaron called them.

The dream was as beautiful as it was cruel. It was as if his body, his mind were as much refusing as able to believe that Kevin was gone. It was his own fault, Aaron knew it. But the ever present voice of his mother, disapproving and disgusting, in his head was just too much for him to handle. He thought - foolish as Aaron was - that the pain of living without Kevin would be better, less cruel, less painful. But he never knew real love and therefore never experienced its lost. Until that faitful day. Until Kevin took his bags and left.

Aaron was used to pain. The hot one after an extraordinarily vicious hit. The cold one when his mother died. The numbing one when the hunger was growing more and more unbareable. But nothing was even slightly as hard to handle as the loss of Kevin in his life.

Kevin was the first good thing Aaron had. He gave him a will to stay, to try, to give this stupid sport everything he got. And Exy turned into more mundane things like getting his eating routine under control or getting a more or less acceptable sleeping schedule. The dark days were still there, for both of them, and they would probably never leave them completely alone, but they got less. And when they did happen they would hold each other together.

Ever since he fucked up things with Kevin, Aaron had more and more dark days. The voice of his mother telling him he‘s a failure, the bored stare of his brother and Aaron convincing himself Andrew wouldn‘t even bet an eye if he died, the voice telling him the world would be a better place without him growing louder and lourder every passing day.

Logically he could say that the death of a single person wouldn‘t change much for the over all world population, expect maybe it‘s some kind of insane mademan dicator or someone important, but still. It made sense. All he did after all was fucking up, being a failure, never good enough, never perfect.

His lonely heart only screamed Kevin‘s name and he knew if Kevin didn‘t take him back, his life wouldn‘t make much sense anymore. Well he would definetly not tell Kevin that. He would not manipulate Kevin into loving him, because that wouldn‘t be much better than not having him at all.

Aaron woke up the next day around noon. He didn‘t really feel like getting up, like getting up was simply too much. But Aaron knew he had to. He didn‘t want to worry Taylor more than he already did. And it would end today. One way or the other.

So he got up, put on the first pair of black jeans he could find and the first sweater his hands could find. Ironically it was one of the sweaters Kevin gave him, on the third of december last year. It was one of Aaron‘s favourites as well.

„Ready for the big Day, small guy?“, Taylor said winking at him.

„Not really? What the fuck am I supposed to do there anyways?“, Aaron replied on his way to the coffee maker.

„Talk to him? Deliver one of those borderline cringe big speeches. Get im flowers. Break into his bedroom and say ‚Draw me like one of your french girls‘, naked of course“, Taylor laughed at the face Aaron made, listening to her suggestions.

„I think I like the big speech. I mean I‘m shit with words, but I‘m sure you want to help your boy getting ‚his man‘ back, right? Also what kind of flowers would you give someone you dumped cause the voice of your dead mother told you it was wrong and disgusting, which you never told him for obvious reasons?“

„Honey, you‘re so fucked up sometimes, I love you but you should go to a therapist or something. Also I‘d say sunflowers or roses? I don‘t speak flowers man, I‘m the tech nerd. Not the romantic one, the nerd. But we‘re gonna make a snazzy speech and you‘re gonna get your man back“

After their typical breakfast - if Aaron didn‘t forget to eat again - they sat down together on the living room floor, paper and pen ready, trying to write the world changing speech.

„Why is this so fucking hard? Why can I only tell him how much I love and miss him when I‘m high off my ass“, Aaron complained.

„What about you don‘t think about him that much. Just tell me what you love about him and then we write that down?“, Taylor suggested.

Aaron took a deep breathe and closed his eyes. „I loved him because he was the first one who saw me. Aaron Minyard. And not just the other Minyard, the lesser twin, the shadow of Andrew. He looked at me and somehow chose me. Even if he could have had everyone else. He chose me, even though I‘m not special. Kevin chose the failure when he could have had the first prize. He looked at me and saw something worth loving, worth keeping around. Hardly anyone could tell Andrew and me apart. But it took him less than a day to do so. Kevin is strong, so so strong and somehow chose the most fragile thing he could find, took it and made it worth soemthing. Kevin made me feel something. Not numbness. Not pain. Something warm and beautiful and living. He gave me a reason to stay alive. Kevin made my life bearable, he made my life beautiful. We were both broken and we would probably still be broken if we were together but we softened each other‘s edges. Kevin believed in me when no one else would. He knew how I felt, knew what I needed and when I needed it. Kev gave me love and safety and I kicked it with my feet. This man is like a god who fell for whatever reasons for a homeless man. And I know I don‘t deserve him but I also know I cannot live without him. And I know that I must tell him that before it‘s too late. If it‘s not too late already“

Taylor wipped a tear out of her eyes. „That‘s it. You tell him that and we‘ll get him back“, she said. „Can I hug you?“

„Sure you loser“

„Ah there is my boy“

They spent the rest of the afternoon writing down the speech, making edits here and there. In the end Aaron collected the pages and went to his room to change. He replaced Kevin‘s sweater with a simple black jumper, put on his Docs, got his keys and left.

Aaro did feel a little uncomfortable, stalking Kevin like that. But he knew this was his chance to fix things. This was his chance to get Kevin back, to make his life worth living again. Which to be fair was a bit selfish, but you are allowed to be a little selfish sometimes, aren‘t you?

Jean and Jeremy‘s apartment complex was a 15 minute drive away from the flat Aaron shared with his three roommates. Theirs was fanzier, obviously. After all Jeremy was a professional Exy player and Jean was some kind of semi famous artist or fashion maker or whatever. They could give Kevin the world. They could give him what he desereved. All Aaron had to offer was an apology and his love. No money. Not yet anyway. Just anxiety, depression and stress.

But if Kevin was willing to take his love, to give Aaron one more chance, he promised himself Aaron would make it count. He will tell Kevin how much he loves Kevin every single god damn day. Aaron will get therapy and work on his issues. Sober up and this time for good. He will do anything to be worth of god‘s love. Just that god in his case was a twenty two year old boy with black hair, forming soft waves at the end and a smile that will make the sun jealous. Eyes made out of smaragd. Lips so sinful and kissable.

Aaron sat down in front of the door, waiting for his courage to come back to him. He could do this. He would get his man back.

Hours passed, or maybe it were only minutes or seconds after all before someone came closer. Ever so slowly Aaron lifted his head, just to look in the ever so familiar green eyes, big with shock.

„You said to stop calling. You never mentioned face to face conversations“, Aaron said, his voice hoarse.

Kevin stared at him as if he was a ghost, a reminder of his past life, something he rather wanted to forget.

„Look I know I fucked up. I know I‘m not good enough for you. I know you deserve the world and I cannot give it to you. And when you look me in the eyes and tell me you don‘t feel anything for me anymore, no love or hate or affection or whatever humans feel, I will turn away right now and go and never come back. Never bother you again. But if you allow me to apologize, if you however decide to gieve me one last chance, I prepared this whole ass speech for you“

Aaron was sure they could hear his heart beating against his chest, roaring, screaming to return home. To return to Kevin where it belonged.

Kevin‘s eyes wandered to the floor, his fingers automatically closed around his left wrist. A nervous habit. Just another little part that makes Aaron‘s heart ache.

Slowly, almost painfully slowly, he lifted those unbelieveable beautiful eyes and met Aaron‘s golden ones. Kevin studied him and the world around them stopped.

Out of the corner of Aaron‘s eyes he could see Jean going still, his breathing too calm, too even. It‘s the same thing Andrew does when someone fucks with Josten. At least his death would be fast. Or slow. Whatever. Aaron didn‘t really care, without Kevin it wasn‘t worth anygthing anyway.

„Why“, Kevin said after what feels like forever, „Why would I forgive you? Why would I give you another chance? Why would you think you can come back here just to fuck me over again? Aaron I loved you, I really did. I always will. You were my first love and maybe, yeah maybe, my last one. But right now I can‘t. I just, I just can‘t. Please leave. Please leave me alone. For now. Maybe, one day we can talk about it. But right now I cannot handle the thought of you to leave me. To tell me all these beautiful lies, to cut me open and leave me to bleed out. I love you“, tears were running down Kevin‘s cheek. Tears Aaron one day, a long time ago, promised himself he would never let Kevin feel again. Pain. Sadness. Everything because of his failure, because of his weakness, because he‘s a fucking piece of shit.

„Thank you for giving me a reason to stay. Jusst remember that you were my light, my warmth, my happiness and I never stopped loving you. Never will. Please just be happy“, Aaron replied as he turned around to walk to his cars.

When he was sure he was out of ear shot, he let himself feel. Feel the pain. Feel the loneliness. Feel the numbness and the cold and the hatred. It was in that moment, that moment where he was alone and nothing more to lose, that he decided that it was enough. He would end it. End it tonight.

„Thank you“, he texted Taylor. „I‘m glad I didn‘t eat you in the womb“, he texted Andrew. „You were not so bad after all“, he sent to Neil. And lastly „Thank you for taking me under your wing“, to Nicky. They would understand. It would take them some time but in the end they would feel better. They would be happier without them. Because at the end of the day he caused them pain and wasn‘t really worth a thing.

So when he got in his car, tears running uncontrallably down his cheeks, he knew what he had to do.

#all for the game #the foxhole court #the raven king #the king’s men #kevin day #aaron minyard #ship: kevaaron #kevaaron

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mudwingprince · 3 years

Text

ayyyy we're back at this again >:D

...its kinda been a while... huh ':I

but once again

I do not think anything bad about my friends, they're amazing people that deserve much love, and the majority of this fic is fiction (duh, its fanfiction lmao)

tw: illness, poison, poison mention, panic attacks, and lab experiments/torture mention

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5 (right here babyyy)

reblogs are greatly apricated :D

and onto the fic we go owo

Once I had figured out how to make the elevator (simple pulley system, vines tied to the leaf and that was used to pull Radi0 up into the tree, safely off of the ground), I destroyed it. I ripped out the vines and let the leaf fall to the ground. The vine could probably be used later, so I wrapped it around my wrist and up my arm. Thankfully the rain had died down a lot and it was just a light drizzle. Radi0 had trouble balancing on the branch when he stepped off the leaf which was… concerning… to say the least. I let out a sigh as Radi0 curled up next to the trunk of the tree. He looked at me, hardly keeping his eyes open.

“I-I’m sorry,” Radi0 mumbled. I was confused.

“For what?”

“Everything.”

“No, don’t blame yourself! If anything, it’s my fault, I prompted the teasing and then told you to leave, I was just trying to protect you!”

“But-”

“Listen, just try to get some rest, and we can talk about this when you wake up, okay?”

He hesitated.

…

Then nodded, closing his eyes and curling up into a small ball. I leaned back and glanced up at the partially cloudy skies through the thick green leaves and sighed, rain dripping onto my face. What if I actually died? What if I wasn’t immortal? Would Radi0 be okay or would he drown in guilt? How would Isol feel? Would she feel any remorse for killing me? Probably not, I concluded. She was still looking for us, it might be because I’m still here. This really was all my fault. Why had I teased Isol? Why was I such an idiot? I blinked and noticed that tears were pouring out of my eyes. I quickly rubbed at them, trying to stop. I was fine, we’re going to be fine. I heard a rustling from under the tree and rubbed at my eyes again, looking down.

“ARGH!” a familiar voice growled, my ears perked up and I held onto the branch a little tighter than before, digging my claws into the bark. “Where the FUCK are they?!” Oh. I should’ve guessed it was Isol. I leaned over the edge of the branch to get a better look. There was no way it wasn’t Isol, their long flowy hair and thick, bushy pink-ish fur was unmistakable. She really stood out compared to the dark greens and browns of the forest.

I quickly pulled myself back. Isol was there? How? Did they follow our tracks? It was raining, how could they find us? But they didn’t find us, we just need to stay up in the tree. It’s going to be fine. I waited. More illegible growling and hissing came from the forest below. I took in a shaky breath and glanced over to Radi0. He wasn’t asleep and his eyes were wide, filled with fear. He knew very well what was going on. I held a claw up to my mouth in a shushing motion, but didn’t dare make a sound. More rustling came from the ground and suddenly a large bang shot out from beneath us. The tree shook and we desperately clung to the branch, trying not to make a sound. I felt my heart rate rise and my breathing quicken. Isol was going to find us, she was going to kill us! I forced myself to look over the edge of the branch again. The only thing that I could see was the dense forest floor. Isol was gone, thankfully. I pulled myself back and curled up, placing my head on my knees and letting my ears flop. I tried to calm down, but my lungs fought for air. I combed a talon through my hair, trying to push out the dizziness that was fighting to get in. I rubbed at my eyes, which were starting to sting.

“M-Mud?”

I looked up, still fighting the dizziness. I pulled on a smile. “Yeah?”

“Are..." He paused and looked at me. "Why… are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Hiding how you’re feeling, trying to take care of me while still trying to keep yourself alive. Why are you doing it?”

“I’m not hiding how I’m feeling.”

“Yes you are, and you’re not good at it.”

“I’m not hiding anything Radi0, just try and get some sleep.”

“No.” I blinked in confusion. He was obviously tired and, being sick, he needed sleep, right?

“Stop trying to push this away,” Radi0 said, standing up and wobbling. I jumped up and reached a talon towards him to try and steady him. “No, stop it, Mud! Stop trying to take care of me and take care of yourself first!”

“I’ll take care of myself if you sit down!” I said, raising my voice slightly. My tail thrashed behind me and I flicked my ears down.

“No!”

“Please, just sit down! We’ll talk then okay!”

“No! Listen to me! You need to take care of yourself!”

“You can hardly take care of yourself right now! We’re both out in the wilderness, you’re sick, I’m stressed, and our friend is trying to kill us! You need to sit down or…” I thought for a second. “Or I’ll leave!”

“Then leave!”

I was silent. Did… he really want me to leave? Was I really that much of a problem? I blinked.

“... Okay… Fine. I’ll leave. Stay safe, Radi0,” I said, taking a step towards the edge of the branch. Just as I was about to climb down the tree, Radi0 spoke up.

“Wait… you were actually planning on leaving?”

“Yeah…? That’s what you said you wanted, right?”

“I-I didn’t… I didn’t think you actually meant it…” Radi0 said while slowly sitting down. He curled up again. “You just saved my life… and I repay you by trying to get you to leave?” He sighed and leaned his head back onto the tree trunk. I crept back farther on the branch and let out a dry laugh.

“I threatened to leave,” I mumbled. “You’re sick and traumatized and probably not thinking straight, I’m probably not either, and again, we’re in the wilderness hiding in a tree from our friend who is out to kill us…” I flopped back onto the branch, my legs dangling off of the tree. I put a claw to my forehead.

“I-I’m sorry…”

“I’m sorry too…”

It was silent apart from the occasional hoots from an owl and croaks and chirps from frogs. I sighed and stared up into the endless night sky, scattered with stars.

"It's pretty…" I mumbled.

"What is?" Radi0 asked. He sounded tired.

"The sky," I replied, rolling onto my side and curling up. "Anyways, goodnight."

"Goodnight."

I woke up. The bright sun was blinding compared to the dark night sky that I had closed my eyes to. I blinked a couple times before sitting up and rubbing my eyes. My fur dripped and weighed me down. I shook out my fur, sending small droplets of rain in every direction. As I started smoothing my fur out, I heard a stifled laugh. I turned to the direction that it was coming from just to find Radi0, his eyes filled with amusement.

"What?" I said, pushing the fur on my head down.

"Uh, n-nothing!" He said, trying to wipe the look on his face. He didn't do well, and I glared at him.

"How are you feeling today?"

"Better?" I blinked.

“That didn’t sound too confident, dude.”

“Yeah, I don’t feel too confident about it…” I looked at him, and then down the tree.

“Do you think that you’ll be able to climb down?” I pushed myself up and reached my talon down to help Radi0 up. He grabbed on and I pulled him up.

“Yeah,” he said, “It seems pretty easy.” I gave him the warmest smile that I could muster and then started climbing down the tree. Once I got to the ground, I glanced around, looking for… something? I wasn’t exactly sure, I just wanted to be safe. I didn’t find anything suspicious, just dead leaves, twigs, sticks, bushes and a clump of fire red flowers. I stepped towards the flowers. I sat down and stared at them. They were pretty. Radi0 walked up next to me and looked at the flowers.

“Do you know what type of flower they are?” He asked.

“I think so,” I replied. “I’m not too sure though.”

“What do you think it is?”

“A snapdragon?” I said. I leaned in a little closer and looked at the flowers. “They normally symbolize strength and positive energy, it might be a good thing that we came across them!” I looked up at Radi0 and smiled before plucking a few and standing up. “They’re called snapdragons because if you squeeze them,” I said, moving closer to Radi0 so he could see, “They look like a dragon’s head, I’ve never done it before because I’ve never seen one in real life, but we can test it!” I gently grabbed onto the back of the flower, making sure not to hurt it, and lightly squeezed it. The petals spread out and it really did look like a dragon’s head.

“Huh…” Radi0 said lightly, looking at the snapdragon. We started moving, what I was guessing was north, based on the sun. “How’d you know that?”

“The lab I was raised in specialized in plants,” I replied.

“Wait, a lab??” Radi0 said. “You were raised in a lab??”

“Yeah, did you think I was just naturally an immortal cat human mud thing?” I giggled. “Things like this don’t happen in nature, at least I don’t think they do. But, I wasn’t born immortal.”

“What do you mean?” Radi0 asked, speeding up a little. He turned around and walked backwards to face me. “Did they do something to you?”

“Well, yeah,” I said, fidgeting with the snapdragons. “I was a lab experiment, of course they did things to me.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I was able to escape anyway, it's all okay now!”

It went silent apart from the occasional snapping of twigs and brushing of leaves as we walked.

“They made you immortal?”

“Yep, they pushed an entire crystal into my head!”

“What?!”

“Yeah!” I pushed my fur away from my forehead. “Basically, all of my power comes from this.” I pointed to the quarter sized crystal embedded in my head. “It might be small but there’s so much about it, and I’m still learning about it! I think there might be more of them, and… maybe there are some people like me…” I looked at the snapdragons, and then at Radi0. He was giving me a weird look. It was a look that was hard to describe. So many emotions in one glance.

“Ack! Sorry! Didn’t mean to throw that all at you!” I laughed nervously and kept walking, focusing on the snapdragons. I looked at the sky, the sun was in the middle of the sky.

Already around noon? Fuck! I thought and sped up a little. I glanced back to make sure Radi0 was following. He stopped. I turned around and looked at him.

“Are… you okay?” I asked, taking a step towards him. He looked at me, his eyes full of rage. I stepped back.

“You… Poisoned me…”

#OH WHAT??? AN ANIMATION TO GO WITH IT??? WoAh!!!#(please unmute it i just got the idea for this last night and i want it to have an impact lmao)#(the audio is The Holy from Deltarune but its slowed)#fanfic #fic #fanfiction #fan fiction #animation #dumbass-trio #i always feel like i have a shit ton to say before i actually get to the fic XD #oh btw #this ones long =)

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alleycat97 · 3 years

Text

Slippery Slopes Pt. 1

MTFL:

A day on the slopes ends up ruining everyone’s day and backfires for another.

Pairing: Ava x MC (eventually)

Kinda follows the book and MCs decisiveness. Ava is endgame on this one eventually. Slow burn but not that slow.

Tags list: @samanthadalton @fundamentalromantic @penda-bear and anyone else!

...

This vacation was everything everyone needed. Unexpected by everyone involved but welcomed by the mega mansion and all its luxuries. If you told Emma Price that on Christmas Break she’d be sitting in a hot tub in nothing but her underwear with the 3 people she loved, she’d have called you crazy.

But this trip was about becoming friends and finding out who she really loved the most, a lesson that was soon to be learned.

Fresh powder graced the gang the next morning on the slopes. It had been years since the Price’s had come to ski. It was something that their mother loved to do and ever since her passing, they just stopped coming. And the time away was showing in Emma’s skiing.

She was rusty but it was like riding a bike. A couple falls and face plants were expected but every once in awhile, Noah, Mason, or Ava was there to catch her. Emma loved the way each of their hands lingered on her waist as they helped guide her down the slopes. It may have been freezing outside, but their touch was burning her up.

Principal Jennings took note of the forwardness of the group toward Emma. Mason was spending way too much time with her trying to teach her, when he could be shredding with Ava. All Emma Price was, was baggage. She was handicapping Mason and this year was showing on his academic and athletic performance.

He had to get Mason away from her and back into Ava’s arms. That girl was going places, much better suited for Mason.

“Ah Mr. Harris!” Jennings said coasting up to Noah.

“Just the man I needed to speak with.”

“Me? Why me I didn’t do anything.” Noah asked in question.

“Oh now. I need a favor. I’m planning on having a downhill race amongst you kids, Mason always did love a good race and I’m much too old to be competing.”

“Ok spit it out Jennings.” Noah said annoyed.

“Down on the last curve before the finish line I need you to place a barricade. The outside curve is much too fast with the banking so we need to block it off so no one gets hurt.”

Noah raised an eyebrow in suspicion, “Why me? Just do it yourself?”

“Well I need to get in touch with the crew working that slope to make sure it’s available to only us for the race. I’ll be back here before we start.”

Noah bought it and agreed to setup the barricade, he slowly made his way down the course checking to make sure it was safe and he saw what Jennings meant, that last curve was sketchy. He pulled out some of the barrels outlining the course and stuck them in front of the curve for easy visibility and made his way down to the lift.

Jennings did as he said a ‘cleared’ the race with the crew and huddled everyone up at the starting line.

“Ok we are going to do this race tag team style. Dave? I want you to make sure we start on time and the start is fair. Mackenzie, you will wait at the next spot to make sure it’s a clean transition and I will wait at the finish line.”

“Where is mom?” Mason asked looking around. “She’s going to miss the race.”

“She’s back at the Cabin overseeing lunch.” Jennings spoke.

“Ok the two teams will be Noah and Emma, and Mason and Ava.”

Of course everyone thought. Classic Jennings.

“Noah and Mason will start the first leg and tag off to Emma and Ava. Take your mark boys and have a clean race. Dave at exactly noon, send them on. Girls? Follow me to the next location.”

The adrenaline was pumping between the boys, it was a simple race but they are boys and competition clouded their mind to anything else going on. They just wanted to beat the other.

Down the slope, Jennings placed Ava and Emma into their positions while Mack sat off to the side. He slid over to Ava before taking off, “Remember before the last curve, hold tight into the inside. I’ll tell Emma.”

He hurried over to Emma to tell her the same, “Before the last curve, hold to the inside and you’ll be fine. You girls be ready the boys should be here any minute.”

The race had done started and Mason and Noah were neck and neck. Neither of them gaining the edge as the cold air kissed their faces. They twisted and turned down the course and Noah accidently bumped Mason.

Mason slacked up a little to regain himself and quickened up overtaking Noah tossing fresh snow into face as he rounded the curve tagging Ava to start. Noah finally able to see tagged Emma who quickly thrusted herself forward squatting down to become aerodynamic.

She had to catch Ava, but just like sprinting, she was faster and had the endurance. Ava began to tire as they approached the final curve and Emma easily slipped past her to the inside forcing Ava out. But as they approached the curve Ava could see an obstruction in Emma’s path, a tree limb was sticking out at knee level on the blindside of the curve and Emma couldn’t see it.

“Emma look out!” Ava screamed but it was too late. Emma took the limb to the shin and it sent her end over end flying into the woods taking a face full of limbs and softly coming to a halt in the snow.

Ava stomped on the brakes and rushed over to find Emma buried face down in the snow. Jennings watched from down the hill with a smirk on his face and hurried to the crash site. He made it the same time the others did all to find Emma, not Ava as the victim. Jennings swallowed hard as his plan backfired and began to think of his way out.

Emma was unconscious and her leg was at a bad angle. Dave rushed over to check on her, “We need an Evac quick!”

“Boys! Hurry down to the lift and call for help.” Jennings barked trying to seem concerned.

“Will she be alright Dave?” Jennings asked to break the silence.

“Her leg is shattered and she’s unresponsive, we have to get her out of the snow or else she will get hypothermia.

“I tried to warn her! I screamed and yelled, I was...I was too late. It’s all my fault!” Ava cried out while Mackenzie grabbed her into a hug.

“It’s not your fault Ava.” Mack tried to calm her down, as the boys returned.

“They’re sending a helicopter, ski patrol is coming to move her to the LZ. They said this slope was shutdown for maintenance?” Mason spoke.

“Impossible. Mr. Jennings spoke to the crew and got it approved.” Noah replied looking at Principal Jennings.

Ski patrol rolled in a shoved everyone aside before he could lie. They quickly and carefully scooped her onto a gurney and drove her to the LZ down the hill right as the chopper arrived.

Dave stepped in and argued with the crew, “I’m a doctor and her father! I will be riding with her.” The crew finally gave in and let him in as they took off.

The shock had worn off as the ski patrol turned to the bunch looking for answers.

“Who’s in charge here?” The man asked.

Jennings, being the oldest was singled out, “Ah yes that’s me. Jennings, Jim Jennings.”

“Ok Mr. Jennings, are you aware this slope was shutdown for the day?”

“Uhhh well.” Jennings stuttered.

“Yeah he knew. He called you guys and got permission.” Noah spoke up.

“He did no such thing. There are signs at the top of the slope and on the lifts closing off this slope.”

“We didn’t see any signs.” Mason spoke up.

“Yes that’s right no signs.” Jim spoke up.

“And we checked the course beforehand. It looked safe. But that limb wasn’t there when I set the barrels up in the curve.” Noah recalled.

“It wasn’t there when I came through either...must have just fallen.” Jennings lied.

“So Noah is it?” The patrolman asked, you placed these barrels into the curve directing the skiers into the inside?”

“Yes, only because Mr. Jennings told me to. He said he was contacting authorities to ok this so I setup the barricade.”

“Hmmm and this limb wasn’t here?” He asked.

“No sir. Mr. Jennings was the last one through. He can tell you.”

“Um yes it wasn’t I swear it must have fallen right after I passed.”

“Ok but the fact remains, this slope was off limits and you broke the rules...”

“We did not, there were no signs!” Jennings protested. And their wasn’t because he removed them. The patrolman’s hands were tied.

Surveying the scene one last time something stood out, “You claim this limb...fell?” The man asked Jennings.

“That’s what I assume. Looks like a fresh break.”

“Yes it’s fresh I’ll give it that. But this limb was healthy and it was clearly placed here. You can see the tree it fell from. Limbs don’t just fall this far.”

“What are you insinuating?” Jennings barked.

“That someone placed this limb here on purpose.”

“Dad!!!!! How could you!” Mason screamed.

“It wasn’t me boy! Hush! This is all one big misunderstanding.”

“I’m going to need you and Mr. Harris to come with me.” The patrolman asked. “As for the rest of you. Get your butts off the slopes, you’re banned for the rest of the day.”

#playchoices #pixelberry #MTFL #ava x mc #ava lawrence #noah harris #Mason Jennings #principal jennings #mackenzie price

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noladyme · 4 years

Text

The Crown Princess of Charming - part 16

Welcome to Charming - its name says it all. Cat needed a fresh start; and though she hadn’t planned on that being in the arms of the crown prince of this little town’s bikerclub - that was what happened. Charming CA would either be the death of her - or a whole new life.

Rated M

Thank you all who have been reading. I hope you’ll enjoy the final chapter of this story.

Tags @wonderlandfandomkingdom @edonaspanca

A year is a long time, when you’re spending every second of every day, missing someone so bad your heart is in physical pain.

The first week after Jax turned himself in, Gemma took turns with Lyla – sleeping in the nursery with Abel – so I wouldn’t be alone in the house. I never cried in front of them – only when I was alone in our bed; holding on to Jacksons pillow.

The morning of the 8’th day; Gemma woke me up, and handed me her phone. “You’re gonna want to take this call, sweetheart”, she smiled; and left the room.

“Hello?”, I croaked. “Cat… it’s me”. “Jax?”, I whimpered. “How… are you ok?”. “I’m good, baby”. He sighed. “It’s so good to hear you voice… are you ok? Gemma said…”. “I’m sorry, Jackson… I promised I’d be ok… I miss you so much it hurts”. “I miss you too, darlin’”, he breathed. “Look, I only got a few minutes to talk… Are you wearing the ring?”. I looked down at my hand. “Never take it of”, I said. “Good… Cat, listen. I know it’s hard… But I need you to be strong for me, ok? Be strong for our boy… It burns a goddamn hole in my heart, that I can’t be there to hold you”. “I’m sorry…”. “Don’t be. It’s ok. I understand… I feel it too”. “Ok…”. “Ok?”. “Yes…”. I took a deep breath. “51 weeks left”. “I’ll be there. It’ll be like I never went away…”. “Can I come see you?”, I asked. “I can get visitation in a month. I’ll let you know”. “I love you”. “I love you too”. I could hear his smile in his voice. “Get up, baby… Dance for me. Ok?”. “I will”, I smiled. Someone was calling out for him. “My minutes are up… I love you, Cat. I lov…”. The call ended.

I sat up in bed; and put my feet on the floor. Dance for me. I had to.

I went into the kitchen; and handed Gemma her phone. Abel was in his high chair; and I picked him up – kissing the top of his head. “I’m sorry, baby boy… Momma Cat’s back now”. Gemma smiled at me. “I was gonna take him with me for groceries…”.

I put the baby back in his chair; and walked over to her – hugging her tightly. “I’m sorry, Gemma…”, I said. “I’m back”. She kissed my forehead. “I knew you’d be”, she whispered.

---

About a month later I was seated by a metal table; in a large cold room. All around me, men and women we’re talking quietly to each other – the men all in light blue pants and shirts. Spread throughout the room were uniformed men, with hard expressions on their faces. Every time the door opened, I jumped in my seat; hoping to see the man who’s absence had keft a gaping whole in my life.

The wait felt like forever – but suddenly the door opened – and a blonde, blue-eyed face grinned at me from the entrance. My breath hitched, and happy tears filled my eyes; when Jackson rushed over to pull me into his arms; planting his soft lips on mine. “Teller! No touching!”. A guard stepped towards us. “Yeah, I know. Just…”. He looked over his shoulder at the man, and let go of me.

We sat down next to each other – our fingers linking under the table. “God, I missed you!”, Jax grinned. “I missed you too”, I smiled. “Are you ok?”. He nodded. “I’m good. The guys are all good… Happy has to pretend to be Juice’s sugar daddy – but otherwise our asses are all in the clear”. I laughed. “Hey! Keep it down”, the guard growled. “Sorry”, Jax said, and looked into my eyes. “He’s a bit on edge… we better watch it”. “Have you had any trouble?... You sentence…”, I whispered. “No, we’re all on our best behavior”, Jax smiled. “We’re not risking doing all 3 years”. “Good”, I said.

“How’s our boy?”, Jax asked, furrowing his brow. I smiled brightly. “Growing… 7 teeth. He decided to let two grow at once”, I said. “Shit… you can’t have gotten much sleep”, Jax grinned. “I’m fine… we’re both fine”.

We stared at each other for a moment; both unsure what to say. “I wish I could kiss you…”, Jax whispered. I bit my lip. “No, darlin’. Please don’t do that. My hand is already callused, from thinking about those lips”. I had to stifle a laugh. “I’ll keep them nice and warm for you”. Jax grimaced, and groaned. “Shit, you’re so beautiful”. “And you still have a nice ass”, I smirked.

The guard came over. “Teller. 10 minutes are up. Let’s go”. Jax frowned. “Can I kiss my girl goodbye?”. The guard looked at me with hard eyes. “Hurry up”. Jax’s hands went to either side of my face; and he pressed his lips to mine again – for a second letting his tongue meet mine. “Ok, that’s enough. Wrap it up”, the guard said.

“I love you, Cat”, Jax breathed. “I love you, Jackson”, I replied.

The guard grabbed my old man’s arm; and led him out of the room. It would be another month before I could see him again.

---

The next two months went by slowly. I’d only been able to see Jax once; because Clay needed to use his visitation rights for club business. Jackson called me once a week, for a few minutes – making it difficult to share more than a few sweet words, and keeping Jax up to date on how Abel was doing.

We celebrated the baby’s first birthday at Gemma and Clay’s house. That was also the day, Abel decided to take his first steps, without holding on to anything. It was a bittersweet moment; to see our boy walking three steps; and then falling to his butt with a happy squeak – knowing that his dad should have been there to share the experience with the rest of us. Gemma squeezed my hand gently, before walking over to pick up her grandson, and kiss his chubby cheeks.

That night, I broke my promise to be strong – and let my tears fall into Jacksons pillow again.

Ray called me shortly after the birthday party. He wanted me back at the school; and apologized profusely for not having called sooner. I agreed to take on the arts position; along with 7’th grade English – wanting to have time to be a parent to Abel.

After settling in at work, I began dancing again, as well. In one of our short phone-calls; I was ecstatic to tell Jax how I’d managed to rent a small space in town; where I taught women the art of keeping them waiting, two nights a week. One of my students was Lyla – who in turn taught me how to use a pole, and her secrets in the arts of caffeine. “It’s perfect, baby! Gemma takes Abel the night’s I’m teaching. The space needed a fresh coat of paint; but I had the guys help me out”. “It sounds good, darlin’. I can’t wait to see it”, he said happily. “How’s my boy?”. “Walking around the house faster than I can catch him… and refusing to wear pants”. “That’s my boy!”, Jax chuckled.

After a recommendation letter from Wendy’s rehab, Jax agreed to let her have monthly visitations with the toddler – as long as I or Gemma was there to supervise. Gemma couldn’t promise not to punch the bitch in her stupid face; so I took on the visitations with Abels birth-mother. Wendy was kind. She was trying to turn her life around – and though it was difficult for her, to see another woman taking on the role as parent to her son – we grew friendly. I even began to look forward to her visits.

---

Six months and three visits, in to Jax’s sentencing; I was running down the hallway of the house – trying to catch Abel. “Pants, Teller!”, I yelled after the squealing toddler. Once I’d finally caught him; and wrestled him into a pair of blue pants – I placed him in his high chair, to get him some lunch.

The door knocked; and Chibs and Opie stepped inside. Their faces were both white. “Hey, guys”, I smiled. “Breakfast?”. Chibs swallowed hard. “You’re gonna want to sit down, luv’”, he said. I went cold. “What happened?”, I said. Abel began fussing in his chair; and Opie picked him up; kissing the top of his head. “Opie?”, I whimpered.

Chibs took my hand; and pulled me over to a kitchen chair – coaxing me to sit down. He pulled out another chair, and sat down to face me. “Cat… Jackson was stabbed”. I let out a desperate gasp; finding it hard to get air back into my lungs. “He’s alive, luv’… they’re working on him right now”. “No…”, I whimpered. “No, he’s not…”. I began sobbing. Chibs pulled me into his arms; and stroked my back. “Breathe, Cat. Don’t black out on me”, he muttered. “He has to come back… we said…”. My whole world crumbled.

Opie handed Abel to Chibs; and pulled me up to stand – a hand on each of my shoulders. He looked deep into my eyes. “Jax is strong, Cat. He’ll come back from this”, he said. “But he needs you now. Abel needs you”. I looked at the whimpering boy in Chibs’ arms. He was reaching for me, and I took him from the scot. “I’m here, baby… I’m here”. I looked at Opie. “Gemma?”. “She knows”, he said. “She’s at TM. We can take you right away”.

We drove to the clubhouse, where the rest of Samcro was waiting. Gemma’s eyes were full of tears; and we embraced – Abel between us. The whole day, we waited for a call from the state penitentiary, to let us know what was going on. Clay finally got Tig on a prepaid. Jax was alive, but in critical condition. Some pissed off Russians had – for some reason – decided that Samcro needed to learn a lesson on humility; and had tried to take out the VP. Tig couldn’t tell us much more, and had to give the phone back to the person he’d paid to borrow it.

We waited at the clubhouse the rest of the night. I slept restlessly in the dorm – Abel cradled in my arms. Calling in sick to work, the next day – Monday – I told the office I’d be out for a week. I decided not to fall apart. Our boy needed me. He didn’t understand why momma Cat was sad, and it wasn’t his fault. I did my best to smile every time he reached for me.

Around noon, state pen called. As I wasn’t married to Jax yet, Gemma was next of kin; so she was the one recieving the information we’d all hoped for. Jax was alive and kicking. Literally. After waking up from surgery; he’d kicked a doctor in the face, thinking he was under attack. The doc had been kind enough, not to report him officially – but was nursing a black eye.

The news made the whole room erupt into cheers – and Gemma and I held on to each other for a good two minutes afterwards – crying in joy.

Jax was well enough to call us himself the next morning. I’d slept Gemma and Clay’s, and the call went there. After a few minutes on the phone; Clay handed it to me. “Hey, darlin’”, Jackson croaked. “Jax? Are you ok? How do you feel?”, I whimpered. “Shanked”, he chuckled, before whispering an Ow. “I’m alive, baby. I’m ok”. “Thank god…”, I breathed. “You didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?”, he said. “Not funny… I was scared to death”. “Yeah, well; I was almost stabbed to death – so that should make us even”, he said. Once again, I could hear his smile in his voice. “I’ll be back in gen pop in a little over a week”. I frowned. “Is that safe? What if they go for you again?”. “I’ll be fine… Clay has something set up”, he muttered.

I looked at Clay, who was on his burner – talking to someone.

“Babe, I have to go. The doc is back”. “Ok. I love you”. “I love you, Cat. I’ll call when I can”. He hung up.

The russians decided not to make anymore attempts on any of the incarcerated Samcro-men. Apparently, someone named Otto - who had trouble seeing, due to his eyes being almost carved out - had tripped, and landed on one of their own; as he was holding a sharpened screwdriver.

---

9 months in, I was getting frustrated. I’d only seen Jax once since he was stabbed – and honestly; being a single mom was taking a toll on me. Samcro was on a “blooddrive” up north – transporting whatever it was they were transporting these days. Only Rat and Piney where left in Charming.

One night; after I’d left dance class – which Lyla had not attended that night – I got a call from a number I didn’t recognize. Thinking there might be a chance Jax gotten a hold of a prepaid – I picked up. “Hello?”. “Hey, it’s Ima”. “Hi… why are you calling”, I said. “It’s nice to hear your voice too”, she sneered. “What do you want?”. If you say “your man”, I’m gonna track you down, and burst both of those implants. “Lyla needs your help. I can’t get a hold of Opie”, she muttered. “What happened?”, I asked. “Can you just get down to the studio? Please? She’s asking for you specifically”. “Fine. I’ll be there as soon as I can”. I didn’t say goodbye – just hung up.

Gemma had Abel for the night; so I was free to go see what was wrong with my friend. Ima met me outside the large building that housed Cara Cara. “She’s inside… freaking out”, the blonde muttered, and showed me the way into the building. “What happened?”, I asked. “She took something…”, Ima said.

Ima walked me past a setup that resembled a doctor’s office; where all instruments where replaced with dildos and buttplugs. A pretty girl – who I recognized as broken nosed porn-star, from the lockdown months earlier – waved smilingly at me. It was then I realized, that the barely-there outfit she was wearing, was supposed to be a nurse’s uniform. “Hey Ima! Get your lazy ass back on set”, a bored looking man with a camera said. “Chill out, Dondo”, she said. “And get Lyla! She was supposed to be ready an hour ago”.

Ima led me to a door, adorned with a star. Inside, Lyla was curled up on the floor, sobbing and shaking. I fell to my knees in front of my friend. “Lyla! Sweetie, what happened?”, I said. “I’m sick…”, she cried.

There was an empty pill bottle on the floor next to her. “What did she take?”, I asked Ima. The porn-star shrugged. “Some uppers… I think”. I frowned at her; and began stroking Lyla’s hair. “Honey, come on. Sit up”. I pulled her up into a seated position. “How much did you take?”. “Two…”, Lyla croaked. Her pupils were blown.

“We need to get her to a hospital…”, I said, putting my friend’s arm over my shoulder – trying to get her to stand up. “No…!”, Lyla whimpered. “I’ve been clean so long… they’ll take away Piper”. “Shit…”, I muttered. “Where are the kids?”. “Piney… cabin”. I nodded. “Ok. Help me get her to my car”. Ima rolled her eyes, and put her arm around Lyla’s waist; and we walked her out of the room.

The guy with the camera saw us, and frowned. “What the shit, Lyla… What did you do? We got a movie to finish”. “She’s not shooting tonight”, I snarled, as we moved towards the exit. He walked towards us. “And who the hell are you?”, he growled. Miss nose-not-broken-anymore came over and grabbed his arm. “That’s Jax Tellers old lady”. The mans face went white. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Of course. Let me help”. He stepped over to us; and picked up Lyla in his arms. “Get her to my car”, I said.

Ima followed us outside. “She said she had a headache… I just thought she was faking it to get out of shooting”. I narrowed my eyes at her. “What did you do, Ima?”, I hissed. She rolled her eyes again. “Roll your eyes one more time, bitch…”, I warned. “What did you do?”.

Ima sighed. “I gave her a couple of pills. Told her they were advils, so she’d take them”. “You drugged her?”, I growled. Dondo managed to open the door to the back seat of my car; and deposited Lyla there. “They were just uppers… thought they would get her in a better mood”. I drew my lips back in a snarl. “Dondo. Movie’s dead. Pay the girl inside”. “What about my money?”, Ima asked. “Find a corner, skank!”, I roared at her; and got behind the wheel to drive away.

I took Lyla to my house; helping her into mine and Jackson’s bed. She was shaking and crying. I frantically called every number I had to the men on the blood drive – trying to get a hold of Opie. No luck. I spent the night stroking Lyla’s cheek, and holding her hair, when she threw up. In the morning, she finally fell asleep. I called Piney to let him know he needed to keep the kids for at least another day; and Gemma, to ask her to keep Abel.

Opie called me back around noon. Once I’d explained the situation, he promised to head back as soon as possible. Lyla was out cold for most of the day. In the afternoon, she woke up; and I helped her into the shower. Afterwards, I wrapped her up in my robe; and fed her toast and coffee. Opie arrived in the evening; and she fell crying into his arms. I left them alone in the living room, and went into the kitchen.

A little while later, Opie joined me. “She’s sleeping again”, he muttered. “Thanks…”. “Of course, Ope… you did the same for me”. A smile ghosted his face. “Ima did this?”, he asked. I frowned. “She’s a bitch… but she wasn’t trying to hurt her. At least I think she wasn’t”. I sighed. “Don’t hurt her, Ope… she’s just a sad, stupid woman, who doesn’t know better”.

Opie looked down. “Can Lyla stay here tonight again?”. “Sure. You both can”, I smiled. “Take the pullout in Abel’s room”. He hesitated for a second, before walking over to give me a slight hug. “I get it… why Jax loves you”, he said. I blushed.

After getting the couch in the nursery ready; Opie carried his fiancée into the room; and tucked her in. We shared a smoke; and both turned in for the night. The next day, Opie took Lyla home.

Jax called in the evening. “I heard about Lyla…”, he said. “How?”. “Opie called pen. Said she was my sister, and that I should be told about what happened”. “Why?”, I asked. “Guess he wanted me to know how amazing my old lady is…”, Jackson muttered. “I’m pretty awesome”, I joked. “You really are”.

---

A year. 12 months.

I’d lived. Danced. Been a momma. And I’d missed Jackson so fiercely, I felt it in my bones. This was the day.

Abel was seated with me on the tabletop of the picnic-table, where I’d first kissed his father. “Daddy”, he chuckled. “Yeah, daddy’s coming home, baby”, I smiled. “Bike”. “Yup, he’s coming in on his bike, in just a few minutes”.

A roar of engines sounded from the street, and our boy made sputtering sounds with his lips, to join in on the sound. Gemma walked out onto the middle of the lot; shielding her eyes from the sun. Bikes came driving in, Clay leading the group. He got off, and went to kiss his wife – before looking towards me and Abel with a big smile on his face.

I closed my eyes; and listened. I recognized the sound of Jax’s bike. For some reason, it was separate from the others. More cheerful. Opening my eyes again, I saw him driving into the lot, surrounded by the three men who’d been with him on the inside.

My heart skipped a beat; and I stood up on the seat of the table.

Jax drove all the way up to the front of the clubhouse; and halted – killing the engine. He got off his bike; and looked at me for a second; before running over – letting me falls into his arms. I straddled his waist; and held his face between my hands – looking into his bright blue eyes. His hair was cropped short, and his smile was brighter than the sun, but I had only a second to enjoy the beauty of the man I was looking at; before he put his lips to mine, in a passionate kiss. All around us, people were clapping and cheering for the returning heroes – but all I could focus on in the moment, was the man I loved; in my arms again.

“Hey, darlin’”, Jackson smiled against my lips. “Hi… you’re back”, I almost sobbed. “I am”, he said. “I’m here. It’s over”. I chuckled in glee. “I love you”, I said, and kissed his lips again. “I love you too, Cat”. “Are you going to put me down?”, I grinned. Jax shook his head, and squeezed my bottom. “Not in a million years”. “You mom might have a problem with that. She wants to hug you”.

Jax sighed, and set me down on the ground gently – pecking my lips one last time; before his mother attacked him with a hug. “I’m home, mom. I’m good”. I turned around, and helped Abel down from the table. Jax looked towards us. “I didn’t know you were bringing him”, he muttered, his eyes filling with tears. “Of course we did, baby”, Gemma smiled.

“Go say hi to daddy”, I whispered to our boy; and the toddler did a waddling run towards Jackson, who crouched down, and caught his son in a loving embrace. “Daddy!”, Abel squealed. “Yeah, I’m home, little man”, Jax croaked. “You’re so big!”. He kissed Abel’s cheek – who wiped it instantly – and picked him up from the ground; walking over to put his arm around me as well. “Thank you…”, he whispered into my ear. “Thank you, Cat”. I smiled, and kissed the top of Abel’s head. “No!”, Abel grimaced. “Ok, baby”, I sighed with a grin. I turned my head to kiss Jax instead.

“Yo, princess!”, Happy called out. “Don’t we get any hugs?”. I tore myself from Jacksons arms; and ran over to jump into his embrace. The big guy lifted me of the ground, and swung me around. I followed up with Juice and Tig – Tig flipping me backwards, and planting a wet one on my lips. “Tig! Hands of my girl, shitstain!”, Jax barked. “Sorry, brother”, Tig grinned. “Haven’t touched a woman in a year”. “We got some waiting inside for you, brother”, Chibs smiled, and pulled his friend into the clubhouse; where drinks, women and food were waiting.

Jax set down Abel, who went to climb into his grandmother’s arms. He walked over to me, and kissed me again. “Shit, I missed your face”, he grinned. “Just my face?”, I smiled. He raised a brow at me. “There are a few other parts of you I’m hoping to get my hands on, once we’re alone”, he smirked, and slid a hand down to grope my bottom.

He was home.

---

We celebrated the homecoming in Samcro style – with alcohol a plenty, and a pair of pretty girls for each of the former inmates – save Jax, who had a hand on either my waist, my butt or my shoulder the whole time. The only times he wasn’t touching me, was when he was playing with Abel, or changing him. “Shit, kid… we need to get you potty trained!”, he laughed; after the toddler had delivered an especially putrid gift in his diaper. “Good luck, daddy. He’s terrified of toilets”, I grinned from the doorway to the dorm. Jax frowned. “Why?”. “He went into the bathroom here; after Piney had been there”, I sniggered. Jax took Abel into his arms. “Then, I don’t blame you, little man”. He kissed Abel’s cheek.

“No!”, the toddler squealed; and slapped his father over the nose. Jax was guffawed. “He’s at a no kissing stage”, I grinned. “Well, he doesn’t take after his old man”, Jax said, and winked at me. I came over to pack up the diaper bag for him. “Or me…”, I said – not sure whether to continue the conversation.

Jax cleared his throat. “How’s Wendy?”, he asked quietly. “She’s good”, I muttered. “She split up with her girlfriend”. Jackson’s expression darkened. “She stumble?”, he said, clenching his jaw. I smiled and shook my head. “No, she’s been doing really well, Jax”, I said. I looked down at the floor. “She… offered sit for us, for the wedding”. Abel was reaching for me; and Jackson handed him over. “Neeta can’t do it?”, Jax grumbled. “Yes, she can… she could be there as well”. I took his hand. “She’s not going to be alone with him… and I trust her”.

Jackson looked at me for a moment; before his eyes grew warm. “Call her. Tell her she can be there, if Neeta is”. I kissed the corner of his lips. “This is right, Jackson”, I whispered. He smiled slightly, and nodded.

Out in the bar area; the party was going into high gear. When Abel suddenly pointed at a redheaded girl in Juice’s lap, and exclaimed Boobies!, we decided to take our leave. Outside, Chibs, Opie and Lyla where standing – laughing at a story Chibs was telling them. “I’m telling you, Fiona refused to wear a ring. I’m not your property, Filip. Free Scotland – free Fiona!”, he chuckled. “God, I miss her sour face”.

“We’re taking off”, Jax said. Lyla ran over to hug us both; planting a lipstick mark on Jax’s cheek. “I’m so happy we waited. Opie really wanted you next to him tomorrow”. “Of course, sweetheart”, Jax smiled. “We’ll see you there”. He went over to hug Opie and Chibs; taking them both in his arms at once. “I’ll never forget what you did for my family this year”, I heard him mutter. “She’s a strong lass, Jackie”, Chibs said, and looked towards me. I smiled warmly at him. “Any time, man”, Opie said.

I went over to strap Abel in, in the back of my car, and Jax went to get on his bike. We drove home, Jackson constantly within view of my back mirror.

---

Once in the house, Jax went to tuck in Abel in his room. I slipped into the bedroom, to make two minor alterations to my outfit. Closing the buttons of my summer dress again, I went into the kitchen, to start the dishwasher.

“The wall…”. Jax was standing in the doorway, with a soft smile on his lips. “It looks great”. “It was just something to keep me busy”, I blushed. I’d finished the mural of the nursery wall a few months before. The motorcycle on it was a copy of John Tellers – which was to this day displayed in the Samcro clubhouse. “Well, it’s beautiful, babe… thanks”. I smiled softly, feeling strangely embarrassed.

There was a strange silence in the room. It was the first time in just over a year, we’d been alone together. I cleared my throat. “I’m, uh… I have the rings for tomorrow. You just have to put them…”.

Jax stormed towards me; and threw his arms around me. His lips were on mine; greedily kissing me. “Jax…”, I panted; pulling my face away. “Air!”. He grinned at me; and suddenly I was over his shoulder – his hand meeting my bottom in a soft clap. I giggled, as he walked me into the bedroom, and put me down on the floor – once again attacking me with kisses.

I pushed his cut of his shoulders; and he went for the buttons on my dress – almost tearing them off. “Slow down Jackson”, I giggled. “I like this dress”. “A year, doll”, he grinned. “I’d like it better on the floor”. I shrugged the garment off, pulling it down my body – leaving me in a bra and panties – as Jax shed his shirt and t-shirt.

I stopped, and looked down his torso. On the right side of his torso were three white scars, I’d not seen before. I ran my fingers over them. Jackson grabbed my hand, and kissed my fingertips. “I’m ok, Cat”, he smiled. I swallowed hard. “I thought…”. He pulled me close to his naked chest. “I know… me too. But I’m here”. He kissed the top of my head.

I looked up, and met his lips again. Warmth spread from my core, all the way through my limbs. Hooking my fingers into his belt, I smirked. “Pants, Teller”. “Yes, ma’am”, he grinned; and opened his belt and jeans; pulling them down. I bit my lip in glee, looking at the straining fabric on his boxers. Jax looked down himself. “Yeah… he’s been a little lonely lately”, he smiled embarrassedly. I reached over, and gave his member a gentle squeeze through the fabric - making Jax gasp, and send me a menacing grin.

He ran a finger over the top of my breasts; meeting the lace of my bra. “Take it of”, he said. I tilted my head. “I thought you’d want to do that”. Jax’s eyes lit up, and I braced myself for what was coming up.

With shaky hands, my old man reached under my arms, and behind me – opening my bra, and pulling it off me. His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. “Holy shit!”, he gasped. I grinned, and looked down at the tassels adorning my nipples; before meeting his eyes again. “I thought I’d give you a welcome home present”.

Jax dropped down to sit on the edge of the bed. He ran a hand over his face; before holding it out, as if he was admiring a work of art. “This… darlin’, you are the most…”. A smile, wider than any one I’d ever seen from him; spread over his face. “Did… could you…?”. I rolled my eyes, and bounced my body up and down for a second. The movement made the tassels spin around slightly. “Happy?”, I smirked. Jac lifted a brow at me. “Panties; off! Foreplay is over”.

He ripped my underwear down my legs; and with an arm around my waist, he threw me on the bed. His boxers disappeared quickly; and he began kissing the area around my nipples with a fervor. Moving his lips north, he licked over the sweet spot on my neck. “I want you – on top – making those tassels twirl!”, he growled into my ear. “Yes, sir”, I whimpered. He slid his hand down my belly; finding my folds; and sliding a finger inside me. I closed my eyes, and mewled. “You ready?”, he asked. I nodded.

Jax laid back on the bed; and I sat up to straddle him. Looking down on his wanton hardness; I took a deep breath; and began lowering myself onto it. Every inch that entered me, was heaven. Jacksons hands were on my hips – his fingers digging in to my skin. A desperate look in his eyes; he groaned. “Tighter…”, he gasped. “Bigger”, I panted. He grinned; and I began moving.

I put my hands on my head – making my breasts perk – and Jackson laughed, as I moved my body to make the tassels twirl. For a while I danced on top of my old man – moving my hips so that his penis thrusted in and out of me. I clenched my walls, and bit my lips. “Cat… please”, Jax pleaded. I did it again. “Holy sh…”, he almost roared. “Better than that calloused hand?”, I panted. “You don’t even know…”, he whimpered. “Show me”, I said.

Jax twisted his body; so that I fell to the mattress – his penis still inside me. He began thrusting rhythmically; and kissed me. Our tongues met and battled for dominance. “Pancakes again”, Jax smiled, when he came up for air. I rolled my hips upwards, to get him to hit my sweet spot inside. Jax caught on, and linked his arm under my knee – pushing into me hard, with a desperate groan. Before long I was feeling the warm sensation of an approaching orgasm. “Take me with you, baby”, Jax almost whimpered – and his words sent me over the edge.

I cried out; and came – my violent orgasm pulling Jackson into his own. He thrusted into me a few more times; trying desperately to prolong the sensation for us both. I was almost sobbing from the extreme jolts moving through my body; and I scratched my nails across his back. Jax let out a last hoarse groan, before – with a final thrust – he let himself go, and collapsed on top of me.

I held him in my arms, and kissed his temple. We were both panting, and had large smiles on our faces. “I love you”, I said. “I love you so much…”, he replied, and softly kissed my lips; before pulling out of me, and laying down next to me. Pulling me into his grasp, it was as if he thought I would disappear if he let go of me. “I’m here, baby”, I whispered. He smiled.

I looked down at my breasts. “Can I take them off now?”, I smiled. Jax grinned, and tore the patches off my nipples for me. “Ow!”, I yelped, as the adhesive pulled at my tender skin. “Sorry”, Jackson grimaced; and sucked gently at each of my nipples – sending another jolt through my core. He let out a slight chuckle, and put his arm over my belly; holding on to me.

“Thank you…”, he muttered. “This year… I only made it, because I knew you were outside, waiting for me”. “You had Abel”, I blushed. He shook his head. “I wouldn’t be able to be the father he deserves, without you”. I smirked. “If I’m so great, why don’t you marry me?”, I said.

Jax took my left hand, and kissed the crow on my finger. “I plan to”.

---

And he did.

Opie and Lyla got married the day after Jax had returned. He and I stood beside each of our best friends, as the two of them exchanged vows – all the while, sending each other knowing looks and smiles.

Six months later, Jax stepped in to the bedroom where I was getting dressed. “You know, we forgot about the part where the groom isn’t supposed to see the bride before the wedding”, I smiled – struggling to close the zipper on the back of my knee-length, off-white dress, with a red lace overlay. “Well, we’ve already broken every rule in the book, doll”, Jax chuckled; and stepped behind me, to help. His finger brushed down my spine, before pulling up the zipper. “You’re telling me! Your mom is pissed, I’m not wearing white”, I muttered. “You still can…”. “It didn’t feel right”, I said. “And I like this dress”. “Me too”, Jax whispered; and ran his hands over my breasts. My neckline wasn’t plunging – but it was deep enough to reveal a good bit of my cleavage. “Jax, we’ll be late…”, I whispered. He kissed my neck, and pressed against me. “Come on, darlin’”, he said. “Gemma already picked up the kid… We got a few minutes”. I laughed. “Since when did you only take a few minutes?”. “I’ll take that as a compliment”, he smiled.

Jax sat down on the bed in front of me, and put his hands on my slightly swollen belly. “How are you doing, baby girl?”, he whispered at my tummy. “She’s good”, I smiled, and stroked his cheek. “Don’t kick your mom too much today. She already has to pee every 30 minutes…”, Jackson grinned. I yanked slightly at his beard, and scowled at him. “Go finish up, Teller”, I chided. He looked at me questioningly. “You sure about the flannel?”, he asked. “Absolutely”, I smiled, and bent down to kiss him.

Jax slipped away to get his blue flannel from the dryer, and I finished getting ready – putting on some red lipstick. I looked at my smiling face in the mirror. “Let’s do this”.

---

A large group of motorcycles were parked on each side of the TM lot – making almost and aisle for us, as Jax and I came riding in. Cheers erupted all around, as suited and leather-clad people saw us arriving.

Jax stopped his bike, and I gingerly got off it – Jax holding my hand to support me. My center of gravity wasn’t the best these days. After he’d parked his bike, I took Jacksons hand, and we went over to greet Clay and Gemma – who was holding Abel’s hand. “Momma Cat’s pretty!”, our boy exclaimed. Gemma looked me over. “Ok, I surrender. You’re beautiful”, she smiled. I hugged her tightly, and let Clay kiss my cheek. “Looking good, teach’”, the president said. “Thank you”, I smiled.

Jax pulled at my hand. “We have out of town guests”, he smiled. I turned around, and saw the grinning face of Mike, and his guys from Chicago. I stepped over, and gave him a warm hug. “Hey there, miss Rose!”, he said. “Not much longer”, Jax said, and hugged his Chicago brother. “We talked about that”, I said with a chuckle. Jackson rolled his eyes. “Rose-Teller. Whatever”, he said. “Let’s just get married”.

We walked into the clubhouse; Gemma and Clay at our heels – and Abel sitting on his father’s hip. Inside stood friends and family, and all of our brothers from Samcro. They cheered and whooped, as Jax pulled me in for a slight kiss. “Hands off, Jackie! You’re not married yet”, Chibs barked. “Does that mean the rest of us still got a shot?”, Juice grinned. Jax smiled at him menacingly. “Funny, man. Keep it up”.

I stroked Jax’s cheek. “You know what…?”, I said. “Let me have at ‘em, while I’m still a free woman”. Jackson looked at me with narrowed his eyes. I patted his butt, and moved towards to the group of bikers. Behind me, Jax set Abel down on the floor. “Any of your uncles get to handsy with momma Cat, kick their asses”, Jackson muttered to his son.

Waving at people to move back, I smiled brightly. “Move back people. Pregnant lady coming through!”. People stepped away to give me space. “Line up, boys”, I grinned.

The entire crew of The Sons of Anarchy, Redwood originals; lined up in a row – and I went from biker to biker – planting a soft kiss on each of their lips. Opie grinned; Rat and Phil – who’d both finally patched in – blushed; Clay, Bobby and Piney smiled; Happy let out a silent oh yeah; Tig licked his lips, once I was finished with him – and once I got to Juice, he slipped an arm around me; holding on just a little longer than I had planned. A tiny foot kicked his shin. “No touching!”, Abel yelled; and Juice grinned – ending the kiss, and letting me go.

Lyla came over with a beautiful little bouquet of red roses; and a crown to match. She put the flower wreath on my head; and kissed my cheek. “You ready?”, she whispered. I nodded.

Someone opened the door to the chapel, where a flower arrangement with a reaper cutout was displayed on the table. “I charge by the hour, people!”, Lowen cried out, and stepped up to stand in the doorway. I was happy the club lawyer was also a registered officiant. It didn’t feel right to have anyone else wed us. Abel went over to hold Gemma’s hand; and Opie and Lyla stood on either side of the door, as best man, and matron of honor.

Jackson came over and took my hands. “Last chance to run, darlin’”, he said earnestly. “I wouldn’t get far before I had to stop to pee”, I smiled. “Besides… There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be, than here”. My old man gave me his trademark smirk. “Let’s get married”.

Hand in hand, we walked over to stand in front of our officiant. “Who gives this woman to be wed?”, Lowen said. A resounding We do!, came from the entire Samcro charter. “All right”, she smiled. “We’re gathered here today, to witness the union of Jackson Nathaniel Teller, and Catherine Rose. If anyone sees any reason why these two should not be wed, let them speak now, or forever hold their peace”. Gemma looked menacingly across the room. “I’ll put a 5-inch heel so far up your ass, you’ll be able to taste the dogshit I stepped in outside”, she growled. A low murmuring chuckle sounded all around.

“Jackson”, Lowen said. “Do you take Catherine to be your lawful wedded wife?”. Jax grinned – his blue eyes sparkling with joy. “Hell yeah. I do”. My cheeks flushed red. “Catherine”, Lowen continued. “Do you take Jackson to be your lawful wedded husband?”. “I do”, I smiled. Jax looked at Lowen. “Can I kiss her now?”, he asked. Laughter erupted. “Not yet…”, Lowen smiled. “Rings first”. “Shit, yeah”, Jax chuckled.

He waved over Abel, and took two bands from the boy’s hand. They had been JT’s and Gemma’s wedding rings. I sent my almost-mother-in-law a loving look. She nodded, and wiped away a tear. “Thanks, son”, Jax whispered, and kissed his son’s head. Abel hugged my leg for a second, before running back to Gemma.

“Do you have vows?”, Lowen asked. Jax nodded, and handed me the larger ring. I took his left hand, and held the band in front of his ring finger. “Jackson; with this ring, I vow my love and affection. I promise to try to learn how to cook, to dance on folding chairs whenever you ask me to – and to protect and cherish you and our children, with all I have. I will always be a faithful, devoted, and – sometimes – obedient wife and old lady”. I slid the ring onto his finger, and sent him a warm smile.

Jackson blew out a deep breath; and took my hand, holding the smaller ring in front of the finger I was already wearing my crow on. “Ok”, he said. “Catherine; with this ring, I vow my love and affection. I promise to do the dishes more often, to let you wear this flannel whenever you want…”. He gestured to the blue flannel he was wearing under his cut. “And to protect and cherish you and our children, with all I have. I will always be a faithful, devoted and respectful husband, and old man. I’ll treat you as good as my leather”.

Opie patted his shoulder. “What else…?”, he muttered. Jax grinned. “Come on! I already ride her, more than my Harley”, he chuckled. The whole room erupted in laughter, and I scrunched up my face in embarrassment. “But I promise to continue doing so”, Jax finished; and slid on the ring – kissing my hand in the wake.

Lowen looked at us both meaningfully. “Then; by the power vested in me, by the state of California – I now pronounce you; husband and wife”. Jax looked at her questioningly. “Now?”, he asked. “Now”, Lowen nodded with a smile.

Jax yanked me into his embrace, put his hand my cheek – and we kissed as husband and wife. The room erupted in applause. Abel’s tiny foot met his father’s shin. “No touching!”, he yelled, to loud laughter.

Jax looked at me, and smiled. “Nah, kid. I’m holding on to this one. And I’m never letting go”.

THE END

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