#[[ ofc it's a drunk voicemail -sigh- ]]

[countlessrealities]

RELATIONSHIP BUILDING || Accepting !

@advnterccs sent: 📱for a voicemail my muse left yours. { To your Rick from my Morty ! }

Rick almost dropped his phone as he tried to take another swing from the mostly empty bottle he was holding in his other hand. Half of the mouthful of liquor trickled down his chin, joining the stains that were already wetting his teal shirt, but he didn't seem to notice, too busy squinting at the screen to find the number he wanted.

Morty was mad at him.

The fact in itself wasn't news. It wasn't the first time and it sure as hell wouldn't be the last. However, this particular fight was bothering him as very few had, for more than one reason, and he couldn't shake off the bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Guilt. He had fucked up, he knew it and, for once, he was failing to deny it.

The phone rang and rang on the other side of the line, but no one picked up and the call eventually ended with a click, as it was redirected to the voicemail.

"G-God fuckin' dammit," Rick muttered under his breath and gulped down more liquor before raising his voice.

"M-Morty, what the hell, p-pick up the fuckin' phone! W-Where the fuck are you?! S-Stop watching porn o-or jerking it or...whatever you're doing. G-Geez, I can't believe tha-that you...you let me go to the goddamn voicemail, l-little shit."

A few other grumbled words followed, but they were distorted by a hiccup and thus unintelligible. He should probably specify whom he was. The last thing he wanted was for the teen to give shit to his boyfriend because of something he had done.

"I-It's Rick. Shit, I-I mean other Rick. Y-Your lame ass, bitchy, fuckin' ungrateful little freak of a boyfriend's Rick."

Alright, maybe insulting his own Morty so freely wasn't the smartest idea. He was trying to get his other grandson's help to make it up to his own and all that spiel was kind of counterproductive.

Fuck, the little shit makes stuff hard even when he's not around. Fuck you, Morty.

"L-Listen, you...you gotta call me back, Morty. I need...we got some shit to do. U-Urgent shit. An-And you have to come with. C-Can't do it on my own. I-It's a two-people job, y-you know? But don't...It's not weird stuff. N-No weird stuff involved." For once, he actually meant it, even if never say never when it came to a Rick-and-Morty related thing. "B-But you can't tell...gotta keep your mouth shut, m-my Morty can't know, got it, l-little buddy? I-It's...if he knows, it will be ruined. S-So we gotta be quiet an-and quick and...you know. G-Get it done before he knows."

There was a voice in the back of his head, one that sounded awfully like Morty's, that was telling him that this was a dick move. Using the teen's own boyfriend to get forgiveness when the latter had been part of the reason why they had fought in the first place.

Good thing that Rick was used to not playing fair and to cheating at every chance he got. Especially if it made it easier for him to get what he wanted.

"We...you...fuckin' call me back, little shit," he resumed, squinting down at the phone as if it had been the boy's face, before letting himself fall in his chair.

Or, at least, that had been his intention. What actually happened was that, in his drunken state, he bumped into it, sending it rolling away and tripping himself backwards. He managed to slow his fall down by grabbing the hem of the workbench, but he still ended up flat on his back, also causing a few tools and unfinished devices to hit the floor with him.

He also lost the grip on the now empty bottle he had been holding and it flew out of his hand, crashing on the ground and shattering in pieces.

Great.

More unfazed by the mess than anyone else would have been, the scientist merely fished his flask out of the inner pocket of his lab coat, took a long, noisy gulp without bothering to sit up and then belched in the phone, before speaking up again as if nothing had happened.

"Y-You got it, Morty? I-It's...life and death. F-Fuckin' life and death, Morty! Y-You don't want to risk causing a-another of those...those...shit, c-can't remember the goddamn word...! Eh, w-whatever." A shrug that the teen obviously wouldn't have seen. "B-But you get it, Morty, don't you? O-Of course you don't, b-but you're still going to do it. B-Because I'm asking you, Morty. I am fuckin' asking."

More like demanding, but those were details.

"S-So do it for the world. O-Or for your family. O-Or for yourself. Whatever. A-As long as you do it for me."

At the end of the day, what mattered was that he and his Morty made up and went back to do what they usually did without the boy glaring at him at any given turn and denying him. He couldn't stand that. Hopefully just having the other Morty there would make it better already.

"G-Good. Great. Just...fuckin'...yeah. Call me back. Soon, M-Morty, got it? Soon! O-Or I...I'll bomb your garden or-or piss on your comics or...put you in Jerry's body or...m-make you allergic to dicks s-so you can't touch one ever again or..." Damn, he had already run out of ideas. "I-It's gonna be awful. For you. I-I fuckin' promise you that."

And without another word, he closed the call, carelessly dropping his phone on the floor and returning the flask to his mouth. Good. A few hours and shit will be fixed. No need to worry anymore.

...Still, while he waited for his other grandson to get his shit together and call back, he would get drunker. You know, just in case.

[katsu28]

can you please write a drunk love confession (kinda like the Rachel/ross one from friends?) but super angsty (with a happy ending ofc) thank ya!! xx

i just reread your request after writing this and i think this was kinda what you were asking for, but i haven’t seen Friends in years so…i could be wrong. i hope you enjoy this even if i got it completely wrong <3 thank you for requesting, i had too much fun writing this!!

the one with the drunk love confession

pairing: JJ Maybank x reader 

summary: see request! 

warnings: swearing, kinda angsty, also way longer than i originally planned but oh well 

a/n: there wasn't a character specified for this, so i just picked my boy jj bc i missed writing for him! hope that's okay :)

masterlist + taglist

(gif from @jensensfanfic!)

You knew that calling JJ wasn’t the best idea. But you were slightly past tipsy (okay maybe a bit more than just slightly) and higher than a fucking kite, so that little voice in the back of your head telling you to put down your goddamn phone wasn’t a main priority at the moment. 

As the dial tone rang, you took another swig of beer, sighing in satisfaction at the cool bitterness of it sliding down your throat. Beer wasn’t usually your drink of choice, but it was all you had in the fridge right now—courtesy of the blond boy you were currently calling. 

“Yo, it’s JJ! I’m probably out doing some shit I’m not supposed to, but leave a message and maybe I’ll hit you back. Or maybe I won’t, I dunno. Peace!” God, that stupid voicemail always used to annoy the shit out of you, but right now, in your drunken haze, it kinda made your heart ache a little bit more. 

“Pick up your damn phone, J, I need to tell you something.” You mumbled, words slurred by one too many cans of beer. After a few seconds of waiting for him to answer before you remembered this was his voicemail, you chuckled drunkenly to yourself. “Hey. It’s me, your best friend. I just wanted to tell you that everything—everything is fine. Everything is totally fine. I’m happy for you. Happy that you—you found someone who makes you happy.” 

You hiccuped, letting out another airy laugh. “Anyways, the reason why I called was to let you know that I am over you. I’m over you, and—shit, I need to pee. Fuck. Uh, I’m—I’m not in love with you anymore. I’m totally over you. Yeah. That’s it. ‘Mkay, I’m gonna go. Love you, bye.” 

With that, you hung up, tossing your phone aside in favor of downing the rest of the remaining beer in the can before heaving yourself up from the couch and stumbling towards the bathroom. After you were done, you returned to your previous position, now fighting the sleep threatening to overtake you and very quickly losing. The last thing you remembered was thinking about the message you’d left JJ, and how you were proud of yourself for finally getting some closure regarding the feelings you had for him. 

-------

You were woken up in the morning by a pillow being thrown at your face, blinking awake slowly to see none other than JJ Maybank hovering over you, squinting at you curiously. JJ tended to show up at your place randomly, and after the time you almost smacked him upside the head with a baseball bat as he crawled through an open window instead of knocking, now used the key you’d given him to come and go as he pleased. 

“You look like shit.” He snickered, deftly dodging the palm you shoved up towards him. “What did you even do last night?” 

“Drank the beer you left in the fridge.” 

JJ’s eyebrows flew sky high. “All of it? Y/N, that was like, a whole pack.” 

“Mmhm. Smoked those joints I snagged from your stash too.” You mumbled, rubbing your eye furiously. 

“Damn.” JJ let out an impressed whistle. “Who pissed you off?” 

“I don’t even remember, man,” You pulled yourself off the couch, picking up all the empty beer cans littering the coffee table and tossing them into the trash on your way to the bathroom to find some painkillers. Vague memories of last night bounced through your mind in flashes, some more clear, but most of them just a blur. You remembered hearing JJ’s voice over the phone, but not really anything after that. “J, did you call me last night?” 

“Call you? Nah, I stayed over at Brianna’s last night. Haven’t even touched my phone since yesterday morning.” 

Right. Brianna, JJ’s perfect new girlfriend. Of course he was with her last night. Lately, that was where he’d been spending most of his time when he wasn’t working. But you weren’t bitter. Not even a little bit. 

“Huh, that’s weird. I swear I remember talking to you, but I was super wasted last night, so,” You sighed from the bathroom, dry swallowing two painkillers, then padding back out to the kitchen. “I probably dreamt it, or something.” 

“Sounds like you had a blast.” He chuckled, flopping onto the couch with a satisfied huff. You flipped him off behind your back, busying yourself with rifling through the fridge for something to eat and heaving out a sigh when you saw that the shelves were pretty much barren. You made a mental note to swing by the store after your shift at The Wreck tonight. “Yo, you called me last night. There’s a message right here.” 

“Really? It’s probably nothing, you can just—” 

Shit. 

Shit, shit, shit. 

Everything came flooding back in one go—calling JJ late last night, spilling your guts about being both in love and over him, leaving him that fucking voicemail. 

“Dude, you sound absolutely zooted. How much kush was in those joints?” JJ snorted. 

You slammed the fridge shut, all but sprinting towards him, even vaulting over the coffee table like some sort of freaking ninja. “Gimme the phone! Give me your fucking phone, JJ, I swear to god—” 

He sprung up from the couch with a surprised cry, sidestepping your attempts at grabbing his phone. “The fuck is your problem, Y/N? Stop it!” 

You took a chance, throwing yourself onto his back to try and snatch it out of his hand before he had a chance to hear the whole voicemail. But when he froze in place, you knew you were too late. He’d heard the whole thing. 

“Oh my god. Oh my god, this isn’t happening,” You whispered, squeezing your eyes shut as you slid off his back and faceplanted back onto the couch. He didn’t say anything for the longest time, and you were glad for it. Maybe he’d suddenly gone deaf and didn’t actually hear the message. Maybe he’d sprouted a sudden bout of amnesia and forgot everything that happened in the last ten minutes. Maybe—

“You’re over me?” He asked softly. You felt the couch dip down opposite from where you were buried in it. “You’re over me. When were you—when were you…under me?” 

“Oh my god,” You repeated, voice muffled by the couch cushion. 

JJ poked your leg once, twice, then a third time. “Hey. Y/N, look at me. What’s happening? Why are you—what are you doing?” 

“I can’t,” You groaned, finally sitting up. You still refused to look at him though, so he did the only thing he could think of. He kept poking you until you met his gaze, which only took about thirty seconds. “Fine. Lately, I’ve kinda, sorta, maybe…had feelings for you.” 

“Oh. That’s—oh.” His brow creased in thought. “You have feelings for me.” 

“Yeah, well, you had them first.” You didn’t know why you were suddenly so defensive, but you couldn’t take it back now. 

“Whoa, whoa, how did you know that? Who told you? Was it Kie? John B? I can’t tell anyone anything anymore, jesus fuck!” 

“It was Pope. You know how bad he is at keeping secrets.” 

JJ nodded. “That makes more sense. Uh, when?” 

“The night you went on your first date with Brianna.” 

“Brianna. Oh fuck. Bri—I need to go.” JJ spluttered, stumbling to his feet. His hands lodged into his hair as he made his way to the front door, then turned around to face you again. “No, I’ll stay. I don’t know.” 

You started to approach him, then decided against it, keeping both arms wrapped around yourself like you’d be able to shield yourself from the clusterfuck of awkwardness you’d unleashed into the atmosphere. “I’m sorry, J, I didn’t mean to make things weird. I was really drunk last night, and I—” 

“You…you were in love with me. But you’re over me now.” He interrupted, letting his hands slap against his sides. “You are over me now, right? We can just forget this ever happened?” 

You wanted to tell him you were really over him, but you were honestly tired of keeping this huge secret for so long. And as daunting as it seemed, it was time to own up to your feelings and lay it all out there in the open. 

“No.” 

“No…as in, you’re not over me?” 

“I’m still in love with you, JJ.” You mumbled, lifting your gaze from your socked feet to meet his very conflicted one. 

“I can’t do this right now, Y/N, I should—I should leave. Yeah. I’m gonna,” He retreated towards the front door yet again, fumbling for the doorknob blindly, “I’m gonna go. I’m sorry.” With that, he left, the roaring of his bike engine fading into the distance being the only thing that jerked you back to reality. The reality where you might’ve just lost your best friend because of a stupid, drunken voicemail. 

Fuck. 

-------

You were wiping down the rest of the tables at The Wreck after closing when you heard the door open behind you. Plastering a polite smile on your face, you turned around to tell whoever had just come in that you were closed. 

“Sorry, we’re closed, but we open for breakfast at 9 tomorrow morning if you wanna—” You stopped short when you saw it was JJ standing there, eyes widening. “JJ. Hi. What are you doing here?” 

“I need to talk to you.” 

“Look, if it’s about what happened this morning, I already feel awful, and I’m sorry, but I couldn’t lie to you anymore.” You sighed, spraying down another table to wipe. 

“You had no right to tell me you’re in love with me, Y/N. I’m with Brianna now, okay? And I like her, and I think she’s good for me!” JJ’s outburst cleaved through the terse silence like the sharpest of knives, cutting deep into your already guilty conscience like butter. He dragged his hands through his already messy hair, brows furrowing heavily. “Everything’s been going great with her until I found out about you.” 

“I was doing great before I found out about you too, asshole! You think I wanted this to happen? You think I wanted to be the one to mess up your relationship? I know you’re happy, JJ, and I’m happy for you.” You weren’t kidding about the last part. Seeing JJ happy was all you’d ever wanted. But seeing him happy with someone that wasn’t you, that was what hurt. “But this is—you think this is easy for me? Seeing you with her all the time? Because I’m telling you right now, it’s not.” 

“Well then, you should’ve said something before I met her instead of leaving that bullshit voicemail last night!” 

“I didn’t know then, and I was fucking drunk yesterday! I didn’t do it on purpose!” You exclaimed, throwing the towel down on the table rather forcefully. “And how come you didn’t say anything either, huh? If you were in love with me too, why didn’t you just tell me?” 

“I couldn’t! You’re one of my best friends, and me telling you I was in love with you would’ve fucked everything up!” 

“Fucked what up?” 

“The friend group, our friendship—fucking everything!!!” His hands were linked behind his neck now as he paced back and forth between the tables, head tilted up towards the wooden beamed ceiling to avoid looking at you. “You guys are all I have, okay? I can’t lose you. Any of you. And you and me…it would’ve driven a wedge between everyone. No Pogue on Pogue macking, remember?” 

“You’re gonna let a stupid rule we made when we were kids get in the way of things?” You scoffed, crossing your arms. “God, I thought you were braver than that, JJ.” 

A muscle in his jaw flexed as he turned his glare on you. “Guess I’m just a coward for thinking of the group then.” 

“Don’t fucking do that, don’t hide behind our friends. I know you, and I know that you’d never let a stupid rule stop you from doing something you wanted to do, so stop blaming this on it. This is on you.” 

“This is on me? What about you?” 

“Me?” 

“Yeah, you! How come you didn’t say anything?” JJ shot back, jabbing a finger in your direction. “You go around flirting with everyone, hooking up with Tourons, and then you say you’ve been in love with me the whole time? The hell am I supposed to think about that?” 

You knew JJ was just lashing out because he was angry, but there was something in his accusation that struck a nerve. Even he could tell that he’d hit it by the way you shrunk back the slightest bit. 

“Fuck you, JJ. Stop making it seem like I’m throwing myself around at every single fucking guy who comes around!” You snarled, eyes flashing dangerously. 

He faltered, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily, and when he opened them again, they were that soft blue that always made your heart skip a beat. “No, I didn’t—I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just…you have really shitty timing, you know that? Bri and I are just getting good, and I can’t do this with you right now, Y/N!” 

“Then don’t! Just ignore me like you’ve ignored your feelings for god knows how long!” 

“I can’t.” JJ muttered, shaking his head. “It was one thing when I thought I was crazy for being in love with someone I could never have, but now that I know how you feel…it’s different.” 

“Do you still feel the same way about me?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Yes, you do. Gut answer. Go.” 

“Yes. Fuck, I’m still in love with you, Y/N.” JJ groaned, digging the heels of his palms against his eyes furiously. 

“Then what are you gonna do about it?” 

“Probably something I shouldn’t.” He breathed, not even taking a second to think before he was crossing the restaurant floor and pulling you into his arms to kiss you fiercely. Although taken completely by surprise, you managed to steady yourself and kiss him back. 

Kissing JJ was better than you could’ve ever imagined, but you couldn’t stop the little voice in the back of your head from screaming ‘he has a girlfriend, for fuck’s sake’, and that was had you pulling away from him. 

“We can’t—we can’t do this.” You spluttered, pushing him away a few steps. JJ’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Dude, you have a girlfriend. You can’t be kissing me like…like that! We shouldn’t even be kissing at all!”

“Crap. Yeah, I know. I know, I’ll break up with her tomorrow.” JJ ran his hand through his hair frustratedly, nodding furiously when you shot him a pointed look. “Look, I’ll be nice about it, and I won’t bring you up. I’ll just say that…I don’t feel the same way about her anymore.”

“I feel horrible.” 

“Whoa, kissing me was that bad?” 

“No, because I’m basically a homewrecker!” 

JJ was quick to approach you again, sliding his fingers under your chin and tilting your head up to meet his stern gaze. “Y/N, you’re not a homewrecker. I love you. I want to be with you. I don’t care what anyone else thinks.” 

“But you said you and Bri were just getting good. That she was good for you.” You frowned, to which JJ smiled guiltily with a shake of his head. 

“I was lying. Kinda just wanted to make you feel bad for springing this on me.” He snickered. “Did I go too far?” 

“You’re an asshole, Maybank.” You shoved him away from you with a huff, but he came right back, trapping your wrists in one hand while the other came to cup your cheek as he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. “Stop kissing me.” 

“Oh, please, you don’t really want me to stop kissing you, do you?” He snorted. “I mean, you are in love with me, after all.” 

All you could do was glare at him playfully, but you couldn’t deny that what he was saying wasn’t true. 

“C’mon, I’ll help you finish cleaning so you can close up and we can get the fuck out of here.” He chuckled, giving your hip one last squeeze before you grabbed the wet towel off the table and flung it at him. “You little shit! Get over here!” 

Safe to say, it took you a lot longer than usual to close up when JJ was with you, but you didn’t really care. 

All you cared about was that you were in love with JJ Maybank and he was in love with you, and it only took one pack of beer, two joints, and a drunk voicemail for you to admit it to each other. 

taglist!

@scenesofobx @milkiane @purple-flamingo @tenaciousperfectionunknown @strawberryforks @vesperluvsbillie @fearthewalkingbitch @like-gabriel-and-castiel @eichenhouseproperty @dpaccione @directioner5lifw @liltimmyst @lilygreennn @sunkissedsteve

[wiypt-writes]

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It

co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Ch7: Old Habits Die Hard Part 3

Summary: Stella faces the aftermath of her actions in Mexico, and heads home to stay with her mom for a while. But Jake’s hot on her heels, and he’s not giving in without a fight.

Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson

Warnings: Bad language and a whole heap of angst.

A/N: So here is the final part of Chapter 7…and well, we hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. We do not own any characters in this series bar Stella Stevenson and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

TLAYLI Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 7 Part 2

So lay down your weary heart, stay by my side, and I promise I’ll be here, till we run out of time

"Hey, Pumpkin." Evan gave Stella a small smile as she answered the door and Stella found herself grimacing at the pet name.

"Hi." She gave him a little smile back as he leaned in to kiss her. Automatically, she turned her face to the side so he caught her cheek and not her lips. He frowned a little as she stepped back to let him in and glanced at her for a moment, his eyes sliding downwards for a split second and Stella saw something flash on his face, but she couldn't quite place his expression. Without a word, he stepped into the apartment, following her to the living area. When she reached the couch she took a deep breath and opened her mouth to say something but he jumped in.

"Listen Stella, I’m so sorry. I was an ass, I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did and left you to go to the wedding alone."

"So you weren’t working then?" She shook her head as Evan let out a sigh. "I didn’t think so

Evan licked his lips and dropped his head a little. "No, I wasn’t. Like I said, I reacted like an ass. I shouldn’t have lied to you, I'm sorry."

"But you did and," Stella shrugged, "it doesn’t matter anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"It’s over, Evan."

Evan blinked, and then frowned a little. "Is this because of what I said the other night?"

Stella sighed. "In a way, yes, it is." She looked at him for a second as the hurt spread across his face before she took a deep breath and glanced down at her hands. She felt awful. Guilt was flooding her system, not only at the hurt on his face but the fact she'd done what she had. But she knew she had to stand strong. It wasn't fair on him, and it wasn't fair on her. "It caught me unawares and I didn’t know how to react," she looked up as she tried to explain, "I panicked but the truth is I didn’t say it back because I couldn’t Ev. I still can’t."

"Stel, look," Evan swallowed and took a step towards her, "I get it. You’ve been hurt in the past and you’re worried about how fast it’s going and, maybe you can’t say it yet, but you know, that doesn’t mean you don’t or you won’t."

"I thought it could be that way but I can’t lie to myself. Not anymore." She shook her head. "I don’t love you Evan. And I’m not sure I ever will."

Evan blinked, and in an instant the hurt on his face slid into something more akin to anger as his jaw set. He gave a scoff, shaking his head and gestured towards her with his right hand.

"You know, you’re never gonna be able to love anyone else whilst you’re still letting Jensen into your head and your bed." The slap his arm made as it swung back to his side rang loudly across the silent apartment as Stella felt her eyes widen.

"What? That’s not," she desperately tried to protest, even thought it was a blatant lie, "I haven’t-"

"No?" Evan gave a scoff. "The mark on your neck tells me a different story."

Stella felt the heat in her neck, she'd been well and truly caught out, and she felt like shit. She took a deep breath, deciding to come clean, he deserved that at least. "I’m sorry. I was drunk and it was a huge mistake. I shouldn’t have done it but that’s nothing to do with why I’m ending this."  

Evan shook his head. "I should have come with you. Fuck!" He seethed. "I shouldn’t have left you alone with him."

"But you didn’t come, and I cheated on you." Stella remained calm. "I'm not proud of it, I've never done this to anyone before and I feel awful, I really do." She swallowed and sighed. "You’re a great guy, Evan, and you have to believe me when I say, what happened this weekend has nothing to do with why I’m... "

"Why you’re breaking up with me? Really, Stel? You expect me to believe that?"

Stella licked her lips and blinked back her tears. "It’s the truth. I’m sorry."

"For what exactly, Stella? For leading me on? For making me fall in love with you when you’re still clearly hooked on your ex? For cheating on me? And with him nonetheless!" Evan's voice gathered volume as he ranted, all the time his eyes boring into hers, "fuck Stel! After everything I did for you!"

Stella looked down, unable to meet his eyes as a tear fell down her cheek. "I wasn’t leading you on. I really did, I mean do like you I just," she looked up, "I can’t lie to you or to myself anymore. This isn’t right. And I think deep down you know that it ain’t gonna work."

“Of course it ain’t gonna work. Because you’re not putting any effort into it!"

"It shouldn’t have to be an effort, Ev." Stella responded, wetting her lips a little with her tongue. There was a moment of silence, before Evan scoffed.

"Whatever. If you're happy to keep being a way for that asshole to simply get his dick wet then that’s up to you. But I tell you something, he’ll hurt you again. And don’t come crying to me when he does."

Stella took a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check. "It’s not like that. At all. He’s not, I mean I’m not..." she trailed off and rubbed at her temple. "This has got nothing to do with him, Evan. I’m breaking it off because I don’t love you and I’m really sorry but I can’t lie to you."

"The only person you’re lying to is yourself, Stella." Evan shook his head. "I’ll see myself out."

He turned to leave, Stella remained rooted to the spot. She looked up at the ceiling, wiped her eyes and then turned to him as he opened the door.

"Evan, I really am sorry." She whispered and he stopped, taking a deep breath before he turned to look at her, his blue eyes wet with tears which made Stella feel about as low as she ever had.

"So am I."

With that the door slammed, leaving her stood alone in her apartment, deadly silence engulfing the room. Her legs gave way and she sank to the floor, her back pressed to the couch, tears pouring down her face.

“Fuck!” She yelled, throwing her head back against the couch. She felt like shit. She never wanted to hurt him, she really did like him and never set out for any of this to happen. She'd wanted to have a future, with someone else, but the sad thing was, Evan had hit the nail on the head. As long as Jake was in her life and her heart, she was never going to be able to be with anyone else.

Because, as much as she wished it wasn't true, she still loved him.

As she sat there, her head awash with a flood of feelings and doubts, her phone rang. Shifting a little, she pulled it from her pocket and saw her sister’s name flashing on the screen. Stella took a deep breath, contemplating simply letting it go to voicemail but she realised she really wanted to hear a friendly voice, and despite the fact they were very different people, she loved her sister and knew that Rey would always have her back. With a shaking hand she swiped to answer the call.

“Hey Stel, how was Mexico? I want all the goss about you and Evs first little break! Well, maybe not all the goss as that’s gross and TMI but-“

At that Stella let out the sob she had been trying to keep down and managed to stutter her sister’s name. Immediately, Rey’s tone flicked from its usual, bubbly nature to concerned.

“Woah, Stelly? What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

“Yeah. I just.... “ at that more tears came and her voice broke once more as she struggled to speak.

“You what, Stel? Are you ok?” Rey demanded. “Why are you crying Stel? Talk to me.”

Stella took a deep breath, fighting for control, eventually managing to find enough to stammer into the phone, “I broke up with Ev.”

“You did what?” Rey’s voice was nothing more than a hissed whisper, conveying her shock. “Why? Stel, are you out of your mind?”

At that Stella began crying even more. “I don’t know, maybe.” She wiped her face with the back of her sweater sleeve, giving a very undignified snort as she did so. “But I don’t love him Rey and...” She choked on her words, struggling for composure as her sister took a deep breath.

“You don’t love him? I don’t-“

“He told me he loved me and I couldn’t say it back. So I went to Mexico in my own and-“

Rey cut her off with a low groan. “Tell me you didn’t!” Stella’s loud sob was all the answer Rey needed. “Oh Stell!”

“I know, I know! But I was drunk and I felt lonely and mad at Ev and, it’s Jakey, Rey!”

“You still love him don’t you?” Rey’s voice was sympathetic, not a shred of frustration left. Stella swallowed, pressing the hell of her hand to her forehead in an attempt to relieve the pain that was starting to form from the force of her crying.

“I never stopped.” She stammered and Rey gave a heavy sigh.

“Shit, Stel.”

“Rey, I don’t know what to do.” Stella whispered, her voice trembling as she struggled for air, her throat felt tight and dry.

“Have you talked to him? To Jake I mean?”

“Sorta.” Stella gave another snort. “The morning after I mean, but I can’t face him. I can’t go there again Rey, I just-“

“And that’s fine, Stel, you don’t have to. Just avoid him until you clear your head. You can call me whenever you need to, I got you on this.” Her big sister placated, voice stern yet gentle. “And you got Clay there too. Talk to him if it’s too much, okay?”

Stella took a shaky breath. “Yeah. Yeah okay.” She wiped her eyes and her nose once more before she cleared her throat. “Listen, Rey, I’m gonna go get a bath. I’m exhausted.”

“Great idea, use some of that bath foam I made, it’s got lavender and rose hip in, perfect relaxation.”

Stella smiled. “Sounds like the perfect accompaniment to a large glass of red.”

Rey chuckled before she sighed. “Promise me you call me if you need me? No matter what time or when.”

“I will. Thanks Rey, oh, and don’t mention this to Mom. Not yet. I’ll tell her myself.”

“I won’t tell a soul.” Rey assured her.

“Thanks. I love you.”

“Love you too, sis.”

Stella cut the call, tossing the phone onto the coffee table before she hugged her knees to her chest, lending herself some comfort before he heaved herself off the floor and headed to the kitchen. She filled a wine glass full to the brim before she slurped a mouthful, wiping her tears once more before she made sure her door was locked, flicked off the lights and headed to the bathroom.

****

It was Thursday, four days after getting home, and Stella was sat outside on her small balcony, wrapped in a warm sweater in the April sun with a book and a coffee when there was a loud knock on her door. She hesitated for a moment, as it had to be someone who had access to the building and her mind immediately went to Jake, before she heard Clay's deep baritone.

"Stella, it's me. Open up."

It was a command, not a question, so she placed her book down on the table, picked up her mug and headed inside. She opened the door and turned away, leaving him to follow her, which he did, shutting the door behind him.

"You want at a coffee?" She asked, heading into the kitchen. "It's not long made."

"Sure." Clay nodded, and he stayed silent whilst Stella made herself a fresh cup, and one for Clay, knowing just how he took it, before she slid it over the counter and for the first time met his eyes.

"You look like shit. Guess this mystery illness really has wiped you out, huh?”

"Thanks, Franklin." She said sarcastically and Clay snorted. "I haven’t been sleeping well."

"Yeah, you definitely caught-" Clay raised his hands and bend his index and middle fingers on both, making quotation signs, "-the bug. It’s annoying, right?" Stella looked at him, blinking as he took a sip of his drink, knowing full well that he had well and truly sussed her out. "And impossible to cure from what I hear. Not even a slap gets rid of it."

Stella let out a soft groan. "Should have imagined you saw that."

"Stell, sweetheart, the entire party saw it." Clay eyed her. "Gotta say, your dad would be proud. It was one hell of a slap."

She scratched at her neck. "In my defense I was drunk and angry."

"Yeah, I know. I caught your apology to Pooch and Jolene the next day. Just before you rushed to the airport ignoring the rest of us."

"I needed to catch my flight." Stella's gaze dropped to the counter, both her hands cupping her mug.

"Before the bug caught you sneaking away from the resort, huh?"

"Something like that." She sighed and took a sip of her coffee.

"So what you gonna do?" Clay asked, placing his mug down. "About your condition, I mean."

Stella shrugged, bowing her head. "That’s the worst bit, Clay. I can’t do anything can I? I couldn’t even be happy with someone else."

"You speaking about Evan in the past tense now?" Clay cocked his head and Stella swallowed.

"I ended it on Sunday."

"Well, I'm not gonna lie and tell you I’m sorry, Stella." Clay shrugged a little and Stella's mouth curled up inot a sad little smile.

"I don’t expect you to."

"You know as well as I do there was something off about that guy." Clay continued and Stella gave a little groan.

"Can we not? There was, is, nothing wrong with Evan. This is down to me and my inability to get some dickhead who dumped me years ago outta my head."

"And out of your bed from what I’ve heard." Clay eyed her shrewdly and Stella stilled, looking at him for a moment before she licked her lips.

"How do you know about that?"

"Practically everyone knew by breakfast." Clay gave her a sympathetic smile. "Turns out one spiteful, red-headed bridesmaid was on your floor too and you weren’t exactly quiet when you were shouting down the hall."

Stella groaned.

"Hell hath no fury, Arty." Clay's eyes twinkled with humour and Stella rolled her eyes.

"It’s complicated, Clay and I can’t face Jake. Not yet. Not like this." She signalled to her congested face and red eyes and Clay took a deep breath, his face sympathetic.

"He’s been worried sick. Says you’re ignoring him."

"Huh, maybe he isn’t as stupid as he looks." Stella shrugged and Clay gave a snort.

"Despite what we all say, he isn’t an idiot. He knows he fucked up. Again."

"It wasn’t just him. We both... well, I wasn’t exactly unwilling." Stell licked her lips as she shrugged. "And as much as I want to say I hated it..." She trailed off, her finger gliding around the rim of her mug. "But it just made everything worse."

"Well, one thing I can tell you is that sitting in here, hiding away isn't going to help." Clay spoke gently, and as Stella opened her mouth to protest he cut her off, holding his hand up. "He's not here. He shipped out with Cougs to support a specialist recruitment exercise at Fort Sill this morning."

"How long is he gone?" Stell asked, her voice quiet.

"He’s back Friday." Clay smiled. "Look, why don’t you take a few days off and go home. You could use some family time right now."

"We just got back from a few days away."

"Yeah, and you've been here, hiding so what difference does it make if you hide in New Hampshire? Besides, you're no use to me like this." Stella took a deep breath as Clay continued. "How long since you saw your mom or Rey?"

"Bout six weeks."

"Then go." Clay persisted. "It's not like you have anything pressing here to do, if we need you then I’ll send for you."

"Thanks, Clay." Stella smiled. "

*****

“What do you mean she’s gone home?” Jensen frowned as Clay looked at him, having just finished explaining to the pair of them where Stella was.

“Well, you know her home in New Hampshire?”

“Yeah?”

“She’s gone there.”

Cougar snorted and Jensen let out a low groan of frustration. He was tired and had just gotten back from a long, hard slog away from home to be greeted by this and he wasn’t in the mood for Clay’s sarcasm.

“When is she coming back?” He demanded, staring at his boss who shrugged.

“I don’t know if she is, Jensen.”

At that Jensen blinked. Was Clay seriously suggesting Stel had quit for good? “What? I don’t-why?”

“Why do you think?” For the first time since Jensen had started speaking, Clay’s frustration was evident in his tone. “After your bunk up in Mexico she finished with Evan and she’s cut up, big time.”

Jensen took a deep breath, as the flood of relief he expected to hear once he’d got that news never came. Instead, he felt nothing but a deep sense of guilt at the fact Stella was upset. And he was part of the cause of that.

“She’s hurting Jake, and I think this time it’s just gotten too much.” Clay finished, his voice a little less spiked than it had been. Jensen ran his hand through his hair, before he shook his head.

“Fuck.”

“Jensen, why don’t you call her?” Cougar looked at him and Jake rolled his eyes.

“You know I tried that, several times. She won’t answer my calls or messages.”

“And you’re gonna let that stop you?” Clay folded his arms across his chest and raised his brow. “What happened to fighting for your girl, Jensen?”

Jensen blinked, his eyes not leaving Clay as his words sunk in. He was right, he had to try and fix this.

“I need to go.” He mumbled before he turned and bolted from the office, a loud apology hitting their ears along with a shout from someone else he had clearly run into in his haste to leave.

There was a pause as both men simply stared at the open door, before Cougar broke the silence. “She’s coming back, right?”

“She didn’t say she wasn’t.” Clay nodded.

“So why did you make out to Jensen like she was done?” Cougar looked at Clay who simply smirked as he turned his head towards him.

“Why do you think?”

****

Less than ten minutes after leaving the office, Jake was in his car speeding down the freeway. With one hand he juggled his phone, pressing the button to call the one person he knew would help him.

“I’m coming home.” He blurted into the handset as soon as his call was answered and Jane gave a little scoff.

“I thought you might be.” Her voice was flat. “Rey called me last night on her way to pick Stel up, told me all about your hook up in Mexico. What the hell were you playing at, Jake!”

“Yeah, I know, I fucked up and I need to make it right. I’m on my way to the airport, I’ll be on the next flight into Logan that I can get and I need you to pick me up.”

There was a pause and Jane sighed. “Leave it with me, I’ll get online and see if I can book one for you.”

“Thanks.” He mumbled before he tossed his phone onto the passenger seat and pushed his foot down on the gas, hanging the exit that would connect him onto the road for DC and the Airport.

Jane called back ten minutes later saying there was a flight an hour or so later which he was on. He arrived twenty or so minutes later and parked in the first space he could find on the long stay car park. As he climbed out, he grabbed his wallet, phone and jacket and debated taking his kit bag but, deciding it would slow him down waiting through security, he left it and set off at a sprint to the departure area.

Thankfully, Military ID gives you certain privileges if you can sweet talk, and Jensen could sweet talk with the best of them, so he managed to skip most of the queues and made it to the gate as the last few people were boarding.

Whilst the flight was only an hour and fifteen, it was an hour and fifteen too long and he was restless for all of it. His leg was continually twitching, his hand running repeatedly through his hair and scratching the short layer of stubble that covered his chin and cheeks. He was aware that he was annoying the elderly woman sitting next to him as he could feel her glaring at him and in an attempt to keep his annoying, nervous little ticks to himself, he tried to read the paper that was in the seat pocket in front of him. But it was pointless, he’d been on the same article for twenty minutes, repeatedly losing his place as his thoughts strayed to Stella, so with a huff he folded it back up and leaned back, closing his eyes.

Whilst sleeping on transport wasn’t normally a problem, being in the Army you learnt to sleep when you could, it totally evaded him and he felt like crying in relief when the pilot announced their descent into Logan. As soon as their wheels were down, he attracted the attention of one of the attendants and begged her to let him off the flight first, citing a military emergency, once more flashing his ID. Five minutes later she returned, smiling at him.

“Follow me, Captain Jensen.”

With a relieved sigh he stood up, grabbing his jacket from the overhead locker and followed her to the door which was just opening into the tunnel.

“Thanks,” he nodded at her as the door was latched into place, “by the way, I love your dress.”

He set off at a sprint through the airport. More abuse of his military privileges saw him clear security in record time and he hurried into the arrivals lounge where he saw Jane waiting for him.

“You have no bag?” She frowned as he gave her a quick hug.

“I didn’t have time.” He shrugged and Jane rolled her eyes.

“From what Rey told me, Stella is gonna be here till next week...”

“Yeah but you booked me a flight I had like an hour to catch...”

“Because you said there was a mad panic!”

“And there is.” Jensen shrugged as they began to walk towards the exit. “Like I said, I need to speak to her.”

“So, what is your plan today?” Rey smirked at him a little as they headed over to the car park.

Jake swallowed. He’d spent the last few hours trying to come up with a plan of sorts and had failed, miserable, so there was only one option. “I’m just gonna tell her I’m sorry and how I feel about her, honestly.” He shrugged as they strode through the rows of parked cars. “She might listen, she might not but I can’t leave it how it was. I gotta try, Jane.”

“Yeah I know Jake.” Jane stopped at her car. “But have you ever thought you can’t always have what you want when you want it and how you want it? It’s always been like that little bro and she’s not a skateboard or a football, she’s a person.”

“I know she’s a person, Jane! But I have to tell her, if she doesn’t wanna listen then-“ he shrugged as Jane unlocked her car, “-at least I’ll know.”

“Well, good luck, you’re gonna need because, according to Rey she is really bad.” Jane climbed into the driver’s seat and Jensen dropped heavily into the passenger one. “Oh, and you might wanna avoid Rey.”

Jake scoffed as Jane reversed the car out of the space. “Rey doesn’t scare me.”

“No?” Jane threw him a look as she drove towards the barrier.

“Nope.” He sniffed, pausing. “She terrifies me.”

Between not wanting to disturb his parents and also being unable to face the inevitable lecture about his behaviour from his dad, at least not until he’d spoken to Stella, Jane suggested he stayed with them. So, Forty-five minutes later, they arrived at Jane’s home, Gracie barrelling out of the house to greet her uncle. He swung her up, giving her a huge cuddle as she began to chat to him about her school and soccer. Jensen tried to listen and pay attention, but his mind was whirring about how he was going to get Stella to meet him. As he walked into the kitchen, Rob handed him a beer and clapped his shoulder as he sank into a chair round the table, letting out a sigh.

After he’d had something to eat and a shower, borrowing some of Robert’s clothes he tried again to reach Stel but to no avail, her phone remained switched off. And this was how it went for the next twenty four hours or so. He also tried the landline but it was always Jules who picked up and he couldn’t face speaking to her either so each time he simply hung up like some huge big cowardly chicken.

So, as a last resort, he begged Jane to help him, something Rob urged her to do too, although his reasons were slightly more selfish- he was simply annoyed that Jake was wearing his clothes and drinking his beer and being a general pain in the ass.

“Okay, okay, just,” Jane bit her lip, “let me talk to Rey, see if I can figure something out.”

She grabbed her phone and left the room, Jensen’s focus remained on the door as he could hear her softly speaking outside, but not enough to make out her words. When she came back a few minutes later she took a deep breath and looked at him.

“Rey’s taken Stella shopping to pick up Julie’s birthday gift. On the way back she’s gonna detour and head to the little cafe in their village, just off the main road through. You need to be there at five.”

Jensen gave a sigh of relief as he stood up and hugged his sister. “I owe you big time.”

“Yeah, well, just don’t be surprised if Rey punches you in the face.” Jane looked at him and Jensen took a deep breath, giving a little shrug as he walked towards the door.

“Be worth it if I can get Stella to listen to me.”

****

“Don’t fuck this up, it’s Stel ok?”

“I know. I know. Look, I’ll call you later, once…” he paused to take a deep breath, “well, once I’ve talked to her.”

Jane smiled at her brother sympathetically and reached over to kiss his cheek, giving him a hug. “Good luck, bro.”

“Thanks,” Jensen voice came out almost as a whisper, “I’m gonna need it, sis.” Taking another deep breath, he got out of the car, gathering what little courage still remained in some forsaken part of his nervous system. “Go Petunias!”

He instinctively pulled the collar of his waterproof North Face jacket round his neck against the rain and started walking with determination to the brightly lit coffee shop at the other side of the street. He jogged to avoid a passing car and soon he was crossing the threshold and being engulfed by the warm atmosphere of the place. He didn’t have to scan the room much before he spotted both Stevenson siblings sat at one of the far corner tables and he made a mental note to thank Rey for having made Stella sit with her back to the door.

Jensen breathed in and walked a couple of steps more into the shop to catch Rey’s attention and a wave of excitement washed his body when he saw her get up and say something to Stella before heading as if she was going to the counter but after turning to check her sister wasn’t looking at her she walked to him and grabbed his arm as she passed.

“You’re lucky I’m not shoving your head up your fucking ass.” Rey hissed only for him to hear.

“Nice to see you too Rey.” He smiled at the woman nervously.

“Fuck you, Jake.” Rey spoke again through gritted teeth.

“You flirting with me, Rey? ‘Coz-”

But Jensen didn’t finish whatever stupid quip his mind had come up with as Rey scoffed and left. He watched her go, and when he saw her picking her coat from the rack next to the main door he sighed.

Good start, Jensen.

In an attempt to placate his nerves, Jensen ran his hand through his damp hair and headed to Stella’s table, his nostrils registering the smell of freshly brewed coffee and sugary treats for the first time since he had stepped foot on the place.

Stella, who was checking the messages on her phone, looked up as she sensed the presence of what she thought was her sister but, much to her surprise, it was Jake Jensen she was looking straight at as he sat down on the chair in front of her.

“Hey Stel.”

“Jake.” She whispered, gasping a little with shock. “What are you doing here?”

“Clay told me you’d come home and I had to talk to you.”

Stella rolled her eyes and was about to protest when the waitress came over with the drinks Rey and her had ordered and, after placing the hot cocoa mug in front of Stella, she looked at Jake confused.

“Oh it’s okay that’s mine thanks.” Jensen said as he nodded. The waitress simply shrugged and placed the coffee mug down before leaving

“Don’t suppose there’s any point me asking how you knew I’d be here.” Stella asked, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched Jake spooning sugar into his drink. Jensen just shrugged as he kept on stirring his coffee, thinking it was a good thing she hadn’t run away the moment she had seen him. “Imma kill Rey.” She grumbled.

“You wouldn’t answer your phone.” Jensen offered, trying to keep it as simple and cool as possible.

“Maybe you should take a hint.” Stella sighed, knowing too well Jake Jensen had never been one for taking hints.

“Stel, why you being like this?” Jake frowned. “We didn’t leave it on a bad note after Mexico, I know you said it was a mistake but…”

Stella sighed again and looked down at her drink, not taking her eyes away from the random pattern of cinnamon sprinkles over the whipped cream. “I just need some headspace.” Her tone was a little softer than before, the surprise and anger at her sister setting her up slowly sweeping away. “That’s all, and you being here…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, instead she gripped her mug and took a drink and once she did she looked up to him for the very first time since she had started speaking only to realize Jensen was watching her, but his eyes weren’t looking straight at hers, they were fixed on something else.

“What?” She asked, varying between curious and concerned.

“Your ring.”

Well she hadn’t been expecting that. She cleared her throat and hesitated a little before asking. “What about it?”

“You had it in Mexico. Why are you suddenly wearing it again? You took it off months ago, when you started seeing Evan.” Jensen inquired, his eyes now effectively meeting Stella’s and he saw the surprise in her expression. “Yeah, I noticed Stel.”

“I actually stopped wearing it the day you dumped me for the second time.” She shot back and Jensen flinched at her tone. Her softness had disappeared and she was being snappy again. He only hoped she didn’t clam up before he could get his point made.

“I didn’t dump you, we were…” He sighed. That path wouldn’t lead him anywhere with Stel, so he decided to take a detour, see where it led. “You haven’t answered my question.”

Stella gave a little shake of her head. “Don’t read anything into it. I’m wearing it because I want to.”

“But, why?” He pressed again.

“I saw it in my jewellery box the day I was going to Mexico when I was looking for some earrings.” She shrugged as she explained herself. “It’s a nice ring.”

Jensen didn’t say anything. Satisfied as he was with Stella’s reasoning, he gave her a knowing smirk.

“Don’t smirk at me like that Jake.” She warned him as she narrowed her eyes.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” Jensen placated her before taking another sip of his coffee. “Clay told me you had ended it with Evan.”

“Yeah I bet you’re loving it.” Stella scoffed.

Jake frowned at her accusation. “No.” He shook his head. “I could never be glad you’re hurting.”

“And whose fault is that?” She glared at him.

“Are you saying it’s mine?” Jake blurted out, leaning his forearms on the table. “Look, the morning after we... you know, you told me you were splitting up with Evan and it was nothing to do with us sleeping together.”

“You’re right, I was!” Stella raised her voice, attracting the attention of the two women at the table next to theirs. “But that wasn’t an excuse for me to go and simply jump back into bed with you!” She hissed. “God, I’m so weak. Why did I give in to you?”

“I didn’t force you into bed, Stella!” Jake protested, visibly hurt.

“I never said that.” She shook her head, but avoided his stare.

“Well it kinda sounded like that’s what you were saying.” Jensen shook his head and leaned back on his chair. “You know, you can deny it all you want but that night was good, and I know you felt it too otherwise you wouldn’t be here so upset and accusing me of being the reason you’re hurt.”

Stella stayed silent. The confidence in Jake’s voice left no room for her denying it, there was no point, so she just looked away.

“Why have you got such a problem admitting there’s still something there between us?” Jake broke her silence.

“I’m not admitting shit, Jake. You can go now, back the way you came.” She shrugged, hoping her voice sounded as confident as Jensen’s.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He shook his head before taking another sip from his drink.

“I think you should.”

“Okay,” Jake placed his coffee mug down again, “you look me in the eye and say you feel nothing for me at all and I’ll go.”

“Piss off, Jake!”

“Not until you tell me.” Jensen challenged her as he crossed his arms over his chest. Maybe he was pushing too much, but he had to try.

“Don’t tell me what to do Jacob. You don’t wanna go? Fine!”  Stella shrugged as she got up and grabbed her purse which was hanging from her chair headrest. When Jensen finally registered what was happening he called after her but Stella just ignored him and left the coffee shop after taking her coat from the rack. Sighing with exasperation, Jake stood up and tossed some money down on the table before jogging after her.

The drizzle that was falling when he had first arrived had now turning into a real downpour. The cold air and heavy rain hit Jensen’s face when he stepped out and he needed a few seconds to spot Stella who was walking up the street under the rain, her wool coat failing to stop her from getting increasingly soaked. Jensen started jogging towards her as the same time he cursed himself for not having an umbrella with him.

“Stel.” He panted as he grabbed her arm.

“Don’t touch me!” She snapped, freeing herself from Jake’s grip.

He sighed but looked at her with determination. “You just can’t say it, can you?” But Stella wasn’t giving in and kept silent, staring back at him and after a few too many seconds Jensen had no option but to give up so he looked down and then back up, tears already brimming in his eyes. “My mistake. I’ll, erm, I’ll leave you alone.”

Stella watched, as he turned to go, his shoulders slumping before something inside her cracked, driven completely by the fact he looked and sounded so damned broken.

“Wait!” Stella pleaded, and he stopped, turning to face her as she took a deep breath, looking upwards before she shook her head. “I…damned, fine, I love you, okay. Is that what you wanna hear?” She snigged and shook her head. “I love you Jake but that doesn’t mean shit. I’m tired of hurting.”

“Me too Stel!” Jensen blurted out, his voice cracking. “Jesus, I hurt every dammed day when I saw you with that prick, because I only had myself to blame. I’m a fucking idiot and I get now, my reasons, you know I thought I was doing the right thing, that it would save us both so much heartache but all it did was cause us so much more.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Stella frowned at his sudden ramble. “You were doing the right thing? What kind of shit excuse is that? The right thing for what?”

“For you! I saw it in your eyes, the day we found out our postings and we were gonna be split up because we weren’t married!” Jensen tried to explain himself as the tears began to fall from Stella’s eyes. “The hurt and fear in those beautiful eyes, Stel and all I could think about was how worse it would be if something happened and,” he sighed as his eyes silently pleaded with her to show some sign his words were getting to her and when he spoke again, his voice was softer than ever. “I thought by ending it, then it would mean we could both move on and if something happened then you wouldn’t have to go through the amount of pain your mom did when she lost your dad.”

“Don’t you think I had the right to make that decision myself?” Stella practically shrieked at him, her chest heaving. “God, you’re a fucking asshole Jacob Jensen.” She sniffed and made a pause to rub her nose and wipe the tears and raindrops that were falling down her cheeks. “What the fuck? I’ve spent the last fucking five years of my life wondering what the fuck happened, trying to find a reason why you suddenly didn’t love me!”

“Stel, I never stopped loving you!” Jensen yelled back, before he took a deep breath and shook his head. “How could I? I’ve been in love with you since we were eleven.” He moved closer to her, trying to hold her hands in his.

“You have a strange way of showing it!” She screamed back, moving her hands to dodge him.

“I know, I know. I don’t have anything else to say other than I’m so sorry. And I love you.” He choked out. “I always will.”

Stella sighed, tears still running down her face. She was exhausted and tired of listening to him apologize over and over again. “All right, you’re sorry. So what? Apology accepted. Feeling better? You can go back to Virginia now.”

“If that’s what you want.” Jake said so softly Stella almost missed it as he put his hands in his coat pockets.

“Why suddenly it is what I want that matters, Jake?” She railed at him once more. “It’s always been about you and your stupid ideas and your stupid needs!”

“What do you want me to say, Stel?” He pleaded, his voice was beginning to break again. And, as Stella looked at him, his face suddenly illuminated by the headlights of a passing car, she realised that she had never seen him so vulnerable before.

“I don’t want you to say anything, Jake.” She swallowed hard, shaking her head. “I just want you to make up your mind once and for all and stop fucking with my brain.”

“Make up my mind?” Jake scoffed. “Have you listened to a word I just said?” He stepped forward a little. “You know what I want.”

Stella shuddered under his stare at those last words before muttering. “No, I don’t.”

“You! I want you.” He blurted out, his eyes never leaving hers. “Give me another chance baby. I swear, I’ll make you happy, I’ll do anything.”

“Jake…” Stella’s voice was a strangled whisper as she shook her head and Jensen sighed.

“What is it that is making you hold back?” He pressed, rain dripping off his hair down his face.

At that, she swallowed. “I’m scared.”

“Scared of what? Talk to me, Stelly.”

“Of being broken again, Jake. Because I don’t think I can fix myself again.” Stella blinked as the raindrops gathered on her eyelashes.

“You won’t have to.” Jake was fast to assure her. “I promise you that much. Just let me show you I can be the man you need, the man you deserve.”

“You promised me before you’d always be there Jake.” Stella started sobbing again. “And you left me.”

“I know, I know baby and I blame myself every day for that I... I just need you to trust me. I love you, I love you so fucking much, Stelly I can’t even think of you not being around.” His voice cracked completely on the last word and he sniffed loudly, his shoulders shuddering as he took a deep breath.

And, suddenly Stella’s defences, those defences she had fought so much to keep up, were nothing more than paper, paper that was disintegrating after being soaked by the rapidly falling drops of both her tears and the rain. Before she could draw in the air her body needed, she fell forward into Jake’s arms, melting into his form as she sobbed, her face pressing into the cold, wet outer layers of his clothing.

Jensen’s hands folded around her back, drawing her in closer and she could feel her body shake. “Stelly, shh, don’t cry baby,” he managed a whispered choke as she clung to him for dear life, “everything is gonna be all right. You’ll see.”

And as she continued to cry, Jensen simply held her, rocking her gently from side to side as he pressed a kiss to her wet hair before he pulled back, his hands cupping her face as he swiped under her eyes with his thumbs, the tenderness of the action more than Stella’s heart could hold.

“Please Stelly. Just give me this, ‘coz I don’t know what I’m gonna do if you don’t.”

As a response to his plea, Stella leaned into his hand, kissing his palm. “I never wanted you to leave in the first place.” She whispered and turned her eyes to his, to see a soft smile spreading across his face.

Jake swallowed, trying to find his voice. He wanted to speak, he wanted to speak real bad, because, God, there were so many things he wanted to tell her, so many built up wants and needs from over the years they were apart. But he couldn’t form anything more than her name. “Stel,” and, before he could attempt anything else, she reached up and grabbed his face tenderly before kissing him, softly.

The rain ran down their faces to where their lips met, each of them tasting the cold drops, but instead of detracting from the intensity of the moment, it simply took them to new heights. As Stella pushed her lips in more firmly, the wave that ran through her was intoxicating, a connection that showed the strength of the feeling, the mutual need. She paid no attention to the water which was soaking them through to chill their skin, because the sheer burst of love they were sharing was more than enough to keep her warm.

Nature might have brought the rain but Jake’s inner sunshine always came through for her in the end.

As Jake kissed the droplets from her mouth, she felt his lips smile against hers, making her head swim as she pulled back to take in his beautiful face and he was beaming at her.

“This is it, Jake. You fuck this up and I’m out of your life for good. In every way.” She declared with a sniff, but the warning felt less of a warning to Jake as she was smiling at him as she clung to his neck.

“Not gonna happen.” He smiled back. “We’re gonna do great and we’re gonna get married and make gorgeous babies.”

“You’re a fucking moron.” She snorted.

“Yeah.” He shrugged casually before tightening his grip on her and leaning in for another kiss, but it was cut short this time by Jake’s stomach growling, making Stella pull back and arch her brow at him.

“I haven’t eaten all day.” He offered as explanation.

She chuckled and then gave him a big grin. “Wanna stop at the Schwarma stand on the corner of Ruby Ave?”

“Yes.” He groaned more than agreed. Stella smiled as Jake placed his arm round her, pulling her close to kiss her head as they set off. The gesture once so familiar to them that it filled them with the warmth that the merciless rain was denying them. “Hey, does this count as a date?” He quipped.

“Don’t push it, Jake.” Stella groaned as she jabbed at his ribs.

****

“What the hell have you two been up to?” Julie’s loud voice rang out and the pair of them stopped dead as they walked into the kitchen from the Mud Room, looking at her as she stood, her arms folded, leaning against the counter, wearing her best stern mom expression. “The pair of you are soaked!”

“Yeah, it’s raining.” Jensen nodded and Julie narrowed her eyes.

“Don’t get clever with me, Jacob. You’re not too big that I won’t give you a slap.”

He flashed her his best, cheeky smile and she rolled her eyes, her attention flicking to Stella before she frowned a little, her gaze then moving to their hands which were tangled together. She blinked, and then her face softened and she gave Stella a fond smile.

“You guys good?”

They looked at each other and Stella smiled, turning back to her mom. “Yeah. Yeah we are. But, erm, we should probably go get into some dry clothes.”

“There’s some sweats and a T-shirt in your room Stel, I think they’re Jake’s.” Julie smiled. “Drop your soaked things outside the bathroom and I’ll run them through the wash and drier.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Stella grinned as Jake let out a little noise of approval.

“Jules, you’re awesome.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She rolled her eyes but the smile never left her face. “Go on. I’ll fix you both some dinner.”

“It’s ok, we already ate so I think we’re just gonna...” She trailed off as Jake gently squeezed her hand and Julie nodded.

“Okay, well I guess I’ll see you in the morning?”

Stella dropped her head, shyly as Jake grinned. “Yeah, Jules. Have a good night.”

Thirty or so minutes later they were both warm, dry and settled in bed, Jake in the pair of grey sweatpants that had indeed belonged to him. As Stella snuggled up to him, he pressed a kiss to her head realising that it had been years since they’d done this, just been together, as a couple. He felt her shift a little next to him and he glanced down to see her blinking as she struggled to stay awake. Jake could tell she was exhausted and whilst he wanted nothing more than to get her on her back and love her the best way he could, he knew how tired she was, both physically and mentally. It had been an emotional day, hell, week even, and there was a lot to process. So instead he shifted a little so he was led on his side facing her, and drew her in for another soft, deep kiss, his thumb gently stroking her cheek bone as she sighed happily, his lips slowly and sensually caressing hers.

“Do you remember the first time we shared a bed, Stelly?” Jake grinned as he pulled away, tucking her hair behind her ear.

She snorted. “Summer camp when we were thirteen. I could feel a storm brewing, so I came to your tent.”

“And we got caught so your mom came to ours,” Jake grinned as she gave a chuckle, “sat with mine around the kitchen table, giving us both ‘the talk’. Good times.”

“I remember how it grossed the pair of us out.” Stella giggled. “You pointed out that Rey and Jane would share a bed when they stayed over with each other and your dad was protesting that it was different because they were just friends.”

“So were we at that point.” Jensen mused as Stella’s hand traced his bicep.

“Yeah that’s what you said. And then you pointed out that they might have been lesbians so his argument was invalid.”

Jensen snorted. “He was being platonaphobic, and of course when I told him so, he had no idea what it meant.”

“No one did because it was a word you just made up!” Stella laughed and Jake shrugged.

“It means you’re biased against platonic relationships.” He grinned before he took a deep breath. “Truth is, Stelly, there was nothing platonic on my side even then. I wanted you from the day I saw you.”

“You were eleven, Jake!” Stella shook her head.

“Just be glad it wasn’t until I was fourteen that I started getting boners over you.”

“You’re disgusting.” She rolled her eyes and Jensen pouted.

“Hey, don’t complain. You were in all my fantasies”

“That’s a back handed compliment.” She shook her head and Jensen flashed her a cheeky wink.

“It’s the palm of my hand that remembers.”

At that she slapped his arm and he laughed, pulling her closer to him as she nestled into his warmth, the top of her head tucked under his chin.

And that was exactly how she fell asleep a few minutes later. Jake felt her relax against him completely, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head before he too drifted under, happy and satisfied that he was holding his girl in his arms, right where she belonged.

**** Chapter 8

[iflostreturntosteverogers]

Runnin’  Home To You

Characters: John x Gender Neutral Reader, Abigail (OFC), Nurse Astrid (OFC), Dr. Veil (OMC)

Warnings: ABO, Angst, Cheating, Nightmare, Sexual assault (No Details), Brief mention of vomit, Mentions of a seizure, Hospital

Word Count: 2601

A/N: This is my entry for @mariekoukie6661‘s Happy or Sad Challenge. My song was Runnin’ Home To You by Grant Gustin.

Beta: @fictionalabyss

Header: @sorenmarie87

Masterlist

       You turn over, reaching across to an empty bed. John’s cedarwood and lavender scent was stale on the pillows and sheets. It’d been weeks since the last time he’d been home, stumbling drunk, and smelling like another omega. You’d shoved him into the shower, roughly scrubbing away the lingering scent of whoever they were before crashing on the couch for the night. You’d flinched when he reached for you that morning trying to make amends. He’d dropped his hands and left again a mere hour later. You’d barely heard from him since. Maybe a text here and there, updating you on his location or asking you to research something for him. Sighing, you convince yourself to get out of bed and go about your day. 

You’re standing at the window drinking coffee when your phone rings. You glance down at it and frown. John. “Hello?” You try your best not to let the anger you feel seep into your voice. 

“Hey, babe!” He sounds like he’s smiling, but his voice is off. He’s hiding something. “I wanted to call and check on you. I should be coming home soon. What do you say we take a vaca-“ 

“Daddy,” he’s cut off by a whiny voice. “Come take a shower with me.” 

“Go to hell, John.” 

“Sweetheart, wait. Please, let me-“ You hang up before he can finish, throwing your phone across the kitchen with a broken scream. How dare he? How fucking dare he?! You drop the cup on the counter, coffee splashing everywhere, and sink to the floor. Tears stream down your face as you bring your knees up to your chest and watch your phone light up again and again from where it landed. Eventually, it stops. You continue to sit there even as the kitchen glows orange with the evening sun and your legs cramp. 

You shakily pull yourself up from the floor when there’s an incessant knocking on your front door. “I’m coming.” You call out. When you open the door, your business partner, and friend, stands there looking worried. Her eyes rake over you, taking in what must be a mess. 

“I tried to call, but it went to voicemail. Hun, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you look like a wreck.” You silently invite her in, closing the door behind her. She flicks on the lamp by the couch and sits down, patting the seat beside her. You sit and lean your head on her shoulder. “What’s going on?”

“He called this morning acting like everything was fine and talking about us taking a vacation. He was interrupted by some whiny bitch in the background asking Daddy to come take a shower with her. I told him to go to hell and hung up on him.” She looks at you shocked. 

“You mean John? Your John? What the fuck?!”

“Not the first time. The last time he came home, he came home smelling like another omega. I wouldn’t let him touch me and he left the next morning.” You look at your hands in your lap. Fresh tears well up in your eyes. 

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” She pulls you into a hug. You let her hold onto you for a moment before you pull back and wipe at your face. “Why don’t I stay here tonight? We can order dinner and watch a movie?” You shake your head. 

“I just want to be alone right now. I’m sorry.” 

“No, you have nothing to apologize for. I understand, but if you need anything you call me. Okay?” 

“Okay.” With that, she leaves and you’re all alone again. You force yourself to go upstairs and take a shower before crawling into bed. 

       You walk along the beach with John, his hand in yours. He smiles down at you. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, John.” You walk a little further, watching the sand for pretty shells to collect. Here and there little white crabs scuttle along. It’s perfect. He leads you to a blanket laid out on the sand with a basket full of food and wine to share. “What is all of this?” 

“I wanted to surprise you. To make up for all the times I’ve been hunting and gone.” His eyes crinkle with his bright smile.

When you’ve both eaten and drank your fill, you lay your head in his lap. He combs his fingers through your hair and hums. “Can't say how the days will unfold, can't change what the future may hold, but, I want you in it. Every hour, every minute. This world can race by far too fast. Hard to see while it's all flying past. But, it's clear now, when you're standing here now I am meant to be wherever you are next to me. All I want to do is come running home to you.” Your wedding song. He was so adamant that it was perfect for the two of you. And it was. He’d sung it to you at the ceremony too, much to his boys’ surprise. You open your mouth to tell him how much you appreciate all of this, but all that comes out is a cry of pain. “Oh, god.” He raises the hand that had been resting on your abdomen. It’s coated in blood. 

“John,” you groan, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Help me.” 

“I will. I swear I will. You’re not gonna die. I need you. I love you!” Tears track down his face and you don’t believe him. 

“John!” You scream as more pain rips through your body. 

You jolt up in bed with a scream, covered in sweat and heart racing. Then the pain hits. It’s too early for your heat, but this pain is all too familiar. You wrap your arms around your midsection and groan. What are you supposed to do without John? The pain only worsens at the thought of your missing alpha. Shit, shit, shit. Was this because of him? Because of his absence? Fuck him. Fuck your poor choice in an alpha. You never should’ve let his good looks and charm draw you in. 

You shakily get out of bed and stumble towards the medicine cabinet, finding and taking a couple of painkillers. You lean against the sink and look at yourself in the mirror. The dark circles under your eyes and sweat coating your forehead do nothing to boost the hope that you’ll be okay. You weren’t stupid. Omega abandonment was pretty much fatal, but you’d be damned if you called him for help. You’d rather die, but that wasn’t happening either. You were going to get through this bullshit and come out stronger. You splash some water on your face and hastily brush your teeth. 

Determined to keep going on with your life like you weren’t possibly dying, you take the stairs slowly and make your way to the kitchen. Your phone lights up from where you’d left it on the floor the previous night. You bend down to retrieve and roll your eyes. Among the missed calls and texts a new message pops up: I’m runnin’ home to you. Like hell he was. You’d have to change the locks before then. 

You make an easy breakfast of toast with jam and slam back several cups of coffee while you try your best to fight the pain and exhaustion making up every fiber of your being. Resting your head on the table, you decide a short nap won’t hurt anything. Right? 

Warm arms snake around you, lifting you from your place at the table. You fight the heaviness in your eyelids to crack them open. Your vision is blurry and you can just barely make out the large man holding you in his arms. Alpha, you’re home, you think hopefully. It’s as if you're being dragged back under by the exhaustion you register the scent and whimper. Not John.

       Bright lights and disinfectant are the first things you notice as wake. The pain and fever are next. You groan and shake your head back and forth against the pillow beneath you. It takes a few tries, but you finally get your eyes open, squinting at the harshness of the light. “Oh, good! You’re awake,” a voice from your left says cheerily. You turn your head to see a nurse checking an IV line. When did you get here? How? “I’m going to go get the doctor and we’re going to have a talk.” She sounds so disappointed. What did you do? You can’t remember. She hurries out of the room before you get the chance to ask. You take stock of everything while she’s gone. Your whole body hurts, right down to your pinky toe. You’re hot, extremely so, and sticky with sweat as a result. Your phone is on a nearby table, but none of your other belongings are anywhere to be seen. What the fuck happened?

“Hello! I’m Dr. Veil,” a short, beta man in a lab coat says, walking in the room. “You were brought to the hospital without any identification. Can you tell me your information?” 

“I don’t understand,” you croak. “What happened? Why am I here?” He eyes you sympathetically and sits on the edge of your bed. 

“Let’s start with your name and then I’ll fill you in as much as I can. Okay?” You nod. 

“Y/N Winchester.”

“Good. As for what happened and how you got here, you were brought here by an ambulance after a 911 call. An alpha broke into your house after smelling the intense pheromones you were giving off. He said he took you upstairs and had sex with you while you were unconscious.” He pauses to watch your reaction as chills run up your spine. The scent that wasn’t right, the arms carrying you. Your stomach rolls and you gag. The doctor is quick to get something under you and narrowly avoids being covered in vomit. The nurse from before appears and holds your hair back. 

“Poor dear,” she whispers as she rubs your back. “All done?” You nod and wipe your mouth. 

“Ready to continue?” The doctor asks solemnly. You nod and brace yourself for more information. “During the assault, you began to seize and the alpha panicked. He called 911 and told the operator everything, but he was gone by the time emergency services arrived. We were able to stop the seizures and bring your fever down a bit, but you are far from out of the woods. I’m assuming this is either an alpha death or abandonment.”

“Abandonment,” you whisper. “My husband. He- he’s always gone for work and I caught him cheating. He hasn’t been home in a while.” He pats your leg. 

“I’ll let Astrid finish getting your personal information and we’ll see if we can hunt down this husband of yours.” 

“No.”

“What?” 

“Do not contact my husband.”

“You’re sure?” You nod, mouth set in a grim line and eyes threatening to spill tears. “Okay, we won’t try to contact him.”

       John drives like a maniac trying to get home as fast as he possibly can. He knows he royally fucked up, and he just wants to fix things between the two of you. He’s pulling off the exit to your tiny town when his phone rings. He doesn’t bother checking the I.D. as he gruffly answers. “Hello?”

“YOU ARE ONE STUPID MOTHERFUCKER, JOHN WINCHESTER!” He holds the phone away from his ear and cringes. He should’ve known this call was coming. Your best friend was protective, to say the least. 

“I know, Abigail, I know. But I’m on my way home and I’m gonna fix this shit.” 

“Better detour to the hospital, you fucking dipshit.” His heart speeds up and he grips the steering wheel tighter. 

“Why? What’s happened?”

“Oh, now you fucking care?!” 

“Can it, Abigail. Why the fuck do I need to go to the hospital?” 

“Because your omega, and my best friend, is dying. I got the call half an hour ago. Alpha abandonment: uncontrollable fever, extreme pain, and exhaustion. Not only that but they were raped by a strange alpha and sent to the hospital because they were seizing. You better hope they fucking live, because I will kill you, John Winchester. This is all your fault.” She hangs up before he can say anything. He drops his phone and races to the only hospital in town. Pulling up to the nearest curb, he jumps from the truck and runs inside. The woman at the front desk takes in his frantic state with a bored look. 

“Can I help you?” 

“My omega. I was told they were brought here. Y/N Winchester.” A glare crosses her face. 

“Room 309. Dr. Veil will want to speak to you.” He rushes to the elevator and slams the button, impatiently tapping his foot as he waits. When the doors open, he pushes past the people exiting and hits the button for the third floor. People frantically move away from him as he sprints through the hospital halls, searching for your room. He skids to a stop in front of 309. There’s a sticker on the door that states ‘Omega in Distress’. His heart skips a beat. Abigail was right. He was a stupid motherfucker. He starts to push the door open when a hand lands on his shoulder.

“You can’t go in there, dearie.” He turns and near pleads with the stern-looking nurse. 

“I’m their husband. Their alpha. I have to see them.” 

“You don’t deserve those titles.” She shakes her head and sighs. “Dr. Veil will want to speak to you first.” 

“I’m here, Astrid. You can go.” The man waits until she leaves before he addresses John. “I’m not going to sugarcoat this. Your omega is dying. I couldn’t honestly tell you how much time they’ve got. Typically once the abandonment sickness sets in? A week, maybe two if they’re a real fighter. But I’m afraid the sexual assault on top of this is speeding things along. My staff was told not to contact you, so I can only assume it was the best friend who called?” John mutely nods his head. “Good. I’m glad she did. You need to be very careful about what you say and do when you enter that room.” 

“Okay,” John whispers. The doctor steps aside and lets John push the door open, entering your room. It’s alarming how weak your scent is. The sight of you so pale and attached to numerous machines is John’s nightmare. “Stupid,” he mutters at himself. Your eyes flutter open and you turn to look at him. “Hey, sweetheart. I-”

“Go.” 

“What?”

“Leave!” You yell, tears falling down your face. He starts to reach for you, but you push his hands away. “Get out! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!”

“Baby, please,” he pleads, eyes shining and body shaking.

“GET THE FUCK OUT!” He flinches. You’re screaming hysterically at this point. Nurses and the doctor rush in to calm you. “GET HIM OUT!”

“You will die without him, dear,” the doctor tries to reason. 

“I don’t care,” you sob. “This is all his fault! I want him gone!” The doctor solemnly nods to one of the nurses. She comes over to him and gestures to the door. 

“Sir, you need to go.”

“But-” He tries to argue, but she shakes her head and gently leads him towards the door. 

“No.” He reluctantly leaves the room; your screams and sobs the only thing he can hear as he slides to the floor outside your room.

Tags: @leave-me-2-rot-among-the-flowers, @hobby27​, @samfreakingwinchester​

[theycallmebecca]

Chris and Ellie;12

Alright, so I had some fun with this story, because it’s a callback to something mentioned in Episode 1.5 of the Chris and Ellie Series (I’ll put a link in my reblog but the story is posted on @theycallmebeccawrites). This is the story of Scott calling Chris to bring him beer.

Edit: It dawned on me early today that I messed up my timeline for Chris and Ellie. And because of that I had to edit a few minor details of the story below. Nothing major though.

Title: Drunk Dial

Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC (Ellie Spencer)

Rating: PG-13

Prompt: #12 - “Alright. How drunk was I?”

Warnings: kind of suggestive in places

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

Because of how tumblr can be silly about links, I will reblog this post with links to the masterlist and the prompt list.

December 2015

Ellie laid curled up against Chris’s side with her head resting on his naked chest as she let out a content sigh.

“Happy?” He asked with a chuckle.

“Very,” she replied.

His early Christmas gift to her had been a romantic weekend away at the bed and breakfast owned by his adopted aunties. It held special meaning to them since it was where they’d had sex for the first time.

They’d gotten to the bed and breakfast earlier that afternoon and had joined his Aunt Carina and Aunt Rosalie for dinner before “turning in” for the night. A creative use of the beautiful two person shower and another round in the comfortable bed later, they were both happily fatigued.

Sleep was coming for them both and just as Ellie was starting to drift off, her phone started ringing with “It’s Raining Men” filling the room, meaning that Scott was calling. She made to get out of bed, but Chris stopped her.

“I’ll get it,” he said as he got up. He strode across the room, showing off his naked body in the moonlight coming in from the windows.

Ellie glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table and frowned, seeing that it was after midnight. She hoped everything was ok.

“What’s up?” Chris asked into the phone after answering it. Knowing it was his brother, he didn’t bother to say hello.

Sitting across the room, Ellie could only hear Chris’s half of the conversation but she thought she could hear loud music.

“No I won’t bring you beer!” Chris exclaimed into the phone. “I’m three hours away, Scott! And with my girlfriend.” Chris looked over at her and rolled his eyes about whatever his brother was saying. “Being out of beer isn’t an emergency. Regardless of what you think.” He listened for another minute before he said, “Bye Scott.”

He hung up the phone and made his way back to bed. This time, he curled up around Ellie, warming his chilled skin with her body heat.

“He needed more beer?” She prompted.

“He’s drunk,” Chris replied. “And wanted me to bring more beer for his party when I got home.” He sat up abruptly and narrowed his eyes. “He wouldn’t.”

“Have a party while we’re not home?” Ellie asked with a smirk. “Of course he would, he loves to throw a good party. Kind of like you do.” Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him back down. “Forget about it and enjoy our weekend together.”

To distract him, Ellie kissed him, inviting him to have his way with her again. Things were truly heating up again when the phone rang again with Scott’s ringtone. 

“You have got to be kidding me,” Chris fumed, making to get out of bed.

“I’ll get it, you stay,” Ellie ordered. She leveled a glare at him and then quickly crossed the room. “Hey Scott.”

“Tell him if it’s not a true emergency I’ll disembowel him myself when I get home,” Chris said loud enough for his brother to hear.

“Uh, wrong number,” Scott said quickly before hanging up.

Shaking her head, Ellie turned off her phone, knowing that if there was a true emergency someone would call the bed and breakfast. Turning around, she added a little bounce to her step as she made her way back to the bed and Chris.

The next morning found them in bed practically until lunchtime due to Ellie convincing Chris they shouldn’t go home early just so he could take advantage of his brother’s hung over state. Instead, they got up and showered separately, Ellie’s idea, then went into town to get lunch and explore the seaside shops.

It wasn’t until late Sunday morning that they left the bed and breakfast and started the trip home. As it was a beautiful day, they took their time making their way back home.

“Can we stop at the store?” Ellie asked as Chris got off of the freeway.

“Uh sure,” Chris replied. They’d stopped for a late lunch and he knew there was food at the house.

Regardless, he stopped at the small market near the house and waited in the car while Ellie ran inside. It wasn’t until she came out with a six pack of beer that he realized what she was up to.

When they got to the house, there were no physical signs that there had been a party there two nights before. In fact, the house looked suspiciously clean as they abandoned their overnight bags at the bottom of the stairs and went in search of Scott and Daisy.

They found Chris’s brother in the kitchen eating leftover pizza while Daisy was stretched out in a sunny spot on the hardwood floor. 

“Sorry we’re late,” Chris said, setting the beer on the counter while Ellie greeted Daisy.

Scott looked at the beer and then at each of them in turn, confused. Then the memories started to filter into his head and he groaned, “Alright. How drunk was I?”

“Drunk enough to call my cell phone half a dozen times,” Ellie said with a grin as she held Daisy. “I think I’ll save the voicemails for blackmail purposes.”

Scott’s face paled. “I left voicemails?” He asked, his voice higher pitched than normal.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out later,” Ellie teased. “Enjoy your warm beer.” She gave him an air kiss before leaving the room carrying Daisy.

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

FFT: virginia on my mind; adam page

Notes: 

okay, so this is a part of my Ivy x Adam universe. Specifically, it’s from the Wild Side version, which is nothing like and not to be confused with my What If’s version of the universe. Whew, that’s a mouthful. Anyway, this was sent to me by @adampage​ on snarkandsarcasmwrites and now I’m putting it here, on it’s own post.

Summary:

Ivy’s little secret’s come out and Adam didn’t know how to process the whole thing. Ivy’s upset with him because he’s gone distant, Adam’s upset with her for keeping her secret a secret in the first place and whew! - a mess is had. Angst here.

Pairing:

Adam Hangman Page x OFC, Ivy Barlow.

Warnings:

alcohol tw, exotic dancer ! ofc and annnngst.

“Adam, c’mon. I need to talk to you. I need to know you’re okay because I just saw your match and I saw you drunk on live tv and I’m worried and I just… Please pick up, cowboy. Please.” Ivy pleaded with the voicemail on his cell phone for what felt to be the ten-thousandth time. They hadn’t spoken since he left to go back out on the road and she knew he’d come home at least twice since then because she saw him posting on Instagram about how good it felt to be home. She took a deep breath and rubbed her temple, raising from the couch to pace her living room. “I know you hate me. I know you’re disappointed. I get it, okay? But you don’t.. Look, I love you. Only you. Just… Be safe out there, okay?”

Her friends were right, she needed to give up. The girls at the club were right, she’d been an idiot to think she could have a relationship and keep on working as a dancer.After leaving the message, she sat down the phone and wandered into her parent’s kitchen, staring out the kitchen window up at the stars.

“You’re still up, sweet-pea?” her father asked as he stepped into the kitchen, eyeing her in concern. Ivy shrugged and muttered that she couldn’t sleep and it wasn’t a big deal. “I never could stay mad at you or your mama long. If Adam feels the same way, hon.. He’ll get in touch.”

“I highly doubt it, Daddy, but thanks.” Ivy turned and wandered back over to her father, pulling the stern-faced man into a tight hug. She made her way back up the stairs and flopped across her bed, staring up at the ceiling. And the entire time, she couldn’t help but wonder what Adam was doing, if he was okay and if he was taking care of himself. She wiped at her eyes and settled down into bed. Maybe her friends were right, maybe she needed to give up. Maybe he just couldn’t get past this.

Her frustration lead to her sitting up in bed and picking up the cell phone, throwing it onto the floor. When she realized that she’d accomplished nothing but the breaking of her cell phone and now she’d have to get a new one, she curled into a ball under the covers and just let the crying take over. She hadn’t had a truly good cry in a while now, maybe it was for the best.

… just like maybe the broken phone is a sign to let go…

–

Adam sat in the bar and stared a hole through the bottle sitting in front of him. All he wanted to do was call her. All he kept hearing in his mind was their fight and the things he’d said and then that changed to the things he kept hearing Matt and Nick and Kenny tossing at him lately. She wasn’t gonna want him back, not now. He sighed and turned the bottle up, grimacing at the bitter burn of the ambery liquid inside. From beside him, Isiah spoke up.

“Thought about callin her?”

“Pretty sure she’s not going to wanna talk to me. I said more than enough to make sure of that at Christmas when I was back home.” Adam took a few more sips from the bottle and Marq spoke up from beside him. “Ever stopped to consider that maybe you’re wrong?”

“Oh trust me.. I’m not. The stuff I said, I.. I can’t even begin to make up for it. And now I’m realizin that I wasn’t even mad I was just worried about her. Scared somethin would happen and I wouldn’t be there to protect her. Jealous because I was havin to share her with all those old fucks down at the club.”

“Boy.. Who did she come home to every night, huh?” Isiah eyed Hangman and waited on an answer. Adam sighed and nodded. “I know that now. But I also know I messed up that night. I messed up so bad..” Adam leaned his head against his forearms on top of the counter, groaning. The headache was starting to kick in and the numb was starting to wear off. All he could think about was that if he hadn’t reacted the way he had and then just left without a proper goodbye or anything, if he’d actually stayed as opposed to shooting off his mouth and leaving during the night to get some space.. She’d be on the cruise with him right now. He’d be going back to her and maybe things would be a lot more easy to bear.

“Thought our boy was an optimist.” Marq mused as he ordered a beer and chugged it. Isiah nodded in agreement and Adam looked from one to the other. “There’s optimism and there’s knowin that realistically, I fucked it all up.”

He happened to look at his cell phone and see a missed call from her number. He bit his lip, eyeing the phone. “Well? You gonna do something?” Marq asked. Adam stood and grabbed the phone, making his way up to the upper deck on the ship.

He called back and it went straight to voicemail. He kept trying for almost two weeks after, too. But it went to voicemail. Maybe he was right. Maybe he needed to just realize that he completely messed things up. That he lost her and it was now too late.

Just the thought of losing her hurt like hell. But maybe it was better this way. After all, she didn’t deserve a loser. And lately, that’s what people seemed to be hinting that he was. The weak link; a loser.

[avidfanficwriter]

Failed repetition (Chapter 4)

Characters: Chris Evans X OFC!

Summary: For as long as Chris can remember, he’s wanted to get married. He has wanted the white picket fence, beautiful wife on his arm and a house full of kids unlike his counterpart who isn’t thrilled with the prospect of marriage.

Rating: T

Warnings: Cursing. 

Tags: @wolflhards​ @tacohead13​ @violetadefebrero​

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4.

Reagan sighs exasperatedly and rests her forehead on the wooden door, her dark blue nails remain on the doorknob useful if she needs a quick escape. "Reagan." He says in a breathless whisper, his voice caught in his throat. She's even more beautiful if it was possible.

"How long did it take her to break?" She questions.

"Ten minutes." He gives her a small smile that quickly fades when she doesn't return one. "Can we talk?"

"I don't have anything to say." Reagan says with annoyance on her voice.

"I do."

"I don't."

"I do."

"I don't want to hear it."

"Reagan..." Chris groans and rubs his face when he realizes how horrible he must look. He's beard is grown out, unkept and unclean. His eyes have to be swollen from the tears that fell and there's probably dark bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep. All signs that he's having trouble coping with this, which could play into his favor but also cost him. There is a part of him that hopes she will see past his appearance, that beneath this mess he's still the man that is devoted to her. "I want..I need you to know that I'm sorry." He pleads.

"I know." She gives him a nod. "I listened to your voicemails."

Chris mumbles a curse word under his breath, completely forgetting about those putrid calls. "I was-"

"-drunk?"

"Yes."

"I noticed."

"Reagan, I was drunk. I didn't..." He starts before abandoning his sentence he doesn't know where it was going or what point he was trying to make, she'd see past any lie he'd put up against her. He could blame it on her damn books but in truth it just goes to show how much she knows him. He looks up at her, catching her green eyes in his. Those beautiful emerald eyes he's missed waking up to force his heart to burst open. "When are you coming home?"

"I'm not."

"You're not?"

"No."

Chris inhales deeply, choking back a sob that threatens to escape. "Why not?"

"You know why."

"Because we had a fight?"

Reagan forces an uncomfortable smile on her face, trying to be calm. They can do this, they can have a conversation. "No, because we keep having the same fight and you..." Reagan swallows and exhales slowly. "you let a lot out a lot of shit last time and it's putting more shit into perspective and I'm tired of it."

"You're tired of me showing you that I love you?"

"Showing me you love me is cornering me in a room and hounding me over getting married? Even when I've told you I don't multiple times?"

"Is it wrong of me to want to marry the woman I love?" He asks, resting his hands on the door jamb. His blood pressure is rising.  

"No! It's wrong of you to keep asking when you already know what my answer is!" She raises her voice. "You act like everytime it comes up, I'm gonna have this new answer that will fit your lifestyle."

"My lifestyle? What the hell does that mean?"

"I don't know, Chris maybe that if we never get married we're never going to move past this stage in our life." Reagan drops her hand from the doorknob and groans. "I'm thirty-two years old, Chris, I'm not some nineteen year old kid who's still figuring life out, I know what I want. One of those decisions I've made is that I don't want to get married and the other is that I want to have children and being told that if I don't bow down to your wishes that's never going to happen is completely bullshit." She swallows hard, filling with more anger. "Why should I spend my time with someone who even though they want the same thing refuses to have that because they want a piece of paper that says we're married. You act like marriage is this big sign that I'm okay with having a baby and being with you for the rest of our lives, I've told you I want that. I don't know any other ways to get it to you. Do you want to me spell it out for you? Shout it to the world? I'm okay with gaining weight, getting aches and pains, enduring god knows how many hours of labour to bring your child into this world and you're throwing a fit because I don't want to get married but I'm willingly to push a six pound baby out of my fucking vagina for us. So tell me again, why marriage is a greenlight for us to have a family and be together? How do I even know marrying you would get us to that point? What if the next thing you decide is I have to stop working?."

"I didn't mean any of that."

"Oh, right." There's so much sarcasm on her voice that's trying to hide the tears forming in her eyes. "You just said it, right?"

"I was mad." Chris argues, dropping his head.

"I get mad, but I would never tell you we wouldn't move on if we didn't do something I wanted."

"I didn't mean it like that." Chris lets out yet another sigh, growing annoyed by how many times he's done that instead of being able to talk. They haven't reached the point of no return yet but are slowly approaching it. "I just... I want us to get married, I want--"

"Oh my god, you're ridiculous." Reagan gives him dry laugh and turns back into her room, quickly slamming the door behind her.

Chris is taken back by the force behind the door and barely manages to get his fingers out of the way before they are smashed. "Fuck." He lets with a frustrated breathe. His jaw clenches and he places his palm on the white door as if that will help him convey his emotions better."Re-Reagan."

"Go home!" She shouts from behind the door in a tone, he knows means he has to choose his words carefully.

"I'm not going home without you."

"I'm not going home!"

In an act of annoyance, he grabs the gold door knob and turns it, forcing the door open and is met with Reagan who's standing in the middle of the room with her hands in her hair. "Why didn't I lock the fucking door?" He hears her question in a quiet voice, mostly likely directed at herself. He looks around her room, the missing suitcase is against the wall near the bedroom, her latest book is left open on the couch, ruining the spine and he cringes over the anger she'll have when she realizes that.

"Is this how it's going to happen? You decide that it's over and I don't get a say?" He asks, slamming the door closed behind him.

"That's how breaks ups work. One person decides they can't do it anymore and leaves."

"It's not what I want."

She growls, throwing her arms in the air and facing him. "You want one thing with a hundred stipulations that I have to follow in order to even achieve happiness."

"I want us to get married, what is so bad about marriage?" He asks.

"I don't want too, I don't need a ring, or paper or a fancy wedding to say I love you. I don't want it. I have never dreamed about a fancy wedding or my future husband, I just wanted to grow up, fall in love and be with that person. And that person is... you." Her voice starts to break and her tears are back. "And as much as I love you, I can't see myself marrying you or anyone for that matter. Marriage has just been something I've never wanted."

"It's something I want."

"I know," Reagan nods her head, finally letting a tear fall. "but arguing about it and begging for it isn't getting us anywhere but back in the same mess."

"That's not what I'm doing."

"It's what we're doing right now! You came over here and still want to know why I'm not marrying you even after I've told you why. I'm tired of talking about this."

Chris holds his arms out. "Fine, you want to stop talking about it?" He asks, clapping his hands together and wiping them against one another as if to clean his hands of the conversation. "See done. No more, We won't discuss it anymore."

"Don't do this." Reagan begs. "just go home."

"Not until you do."

"I'm not going to live there anymore." It's a stab to his gut and a bullet wound to his heart all at the same time, pain radiates through his body. She's shot him. She always comes back, always does. No matter the fight, she would always come back to him. He's in trouble now so he shifts gears, fearing he's at risk of losing her for good this time. "We don't have to get married." He lets out in a rushed tone.

"Chris--"

"No, listen to me." He's begging with a voice so broken it hurts, he grabs at her hand, squeezing it in his own. "I want you in my life and If I have to give up marriage for you, I will. I want you."

"You're telling me that in ten years you won't bring it up?" She watches him chew his lip and say a quiet yes. "Even if we went to friends or family members weddings, you wouldn't ever bring it up?"

"For you, yes." There's a tremble in his voice that he wasn't as noticeable.

"Then why spend six years berating me to marry you?"

"I'm an idiot, Rea. I've been so caught up on this marriage idea that it's clouded everything."

Reagan swipes her thumb over his hand, "You're lying and that's why we can't be together. You're always going to want to get married and I'm not. If I stay with you and we don't get married, you'll resent me for not being able to give you that and I'll be unhappy because I can't. If we get married, who's to say you don't start to question why we got married one day? That you'll start to wonder if i married you because I wanted to or because you wanted me to?" She inhales sharply. "Either way one of us winds up hurt."

Chris stares at her as his own eyes fill with tears, his squeezing at her hand, silently begging her to stay. "I can't give up what I believe in because you don't like it." She adds.

"I love you." He pleads, dropping her hand and holding her face instead. Their eyes met, both full of pain. "I love you."

"I know but..." She touches his thigh, rubbing his left jean pocket and sighs. "that ring," She points out adding pressure to the circle hidden beneath the denim. "that you carry around everywhere you go hoping one day I will say yes, is why I can't. You wouldn't have bought a ring, you wouldn't have carried it around with you all these years if you could just move on."

Chris is desperate, his heart is racing threatening to jump out of chest and he can feel himself getting dizzy, it's like she's taking the oxygen in the air. "You're not going to give me one more chance?"

"I've given you six years worth of chances." Chris stares into her eyes, shaking his head as she speaks. "I can't keep hurting you. If we don't get married, you'll be unhappy and if we do, I'll will be. Neither of us will win in this situation."

He leans down, capturing her lips in a kiss. It's soft and innocent. He can taste the mint on her breathe and salt from her tears, he can't say goodbye to her. "I would be. I would be happy." He says against her lips.

"No, you wouldn't." Her hand pushes at his chest, forcing him to step back and she slips from his hands.

Chris stares at her, the woman he's been with and loved for six years, the woman whose future with him he had planned out after their second date. He envisioned everything, their anniversaries, wedding, the birth of their child. He saw it all. This wasn't in the plans. Losing her wasn't apart of it. "Reagan, I don't want to get married."

She inhales deeply, glancing at the ceiling before stepping towards him. "Tell me you love me."

"I love you."

"Tell me you want to spend the rest of our lives together."

"You know I do."

"Tell me we're going to have a family."

"We are." He says with a tear falling down his cheek.

"Tell me I'm all you need."

"You are."

"Tell me if we're going to get married in the future."

"We are." Chris closes his eyes and lets his tears fall. She played him. It was a dirty game that makes him want to scream with agony. He's going to have to say goodbye to her, the love of his life because he's an idiot who can't seem to move on from the subject of marriage. At this point, he doesn't even realize why it's so important to him anymore. His childhood was spent with hopeful wishes of his life, a husband and a family. A wife. a woman whose taken his name and promised to love him until they leave the earth. Now he's not married, not going to be getting married and he's just lost the woman he loves.

Reagan forces a smile as her own tears drop rapidly, she wraps her arms around Chris' broad chest and sobs. They hold one another, wishing things were different that their ideas for the future matched because they want each other but fate had different plans. Six years worth of a relationship, six years of 'I love yous' and mornings making breakfast. They rehearsed scripts, bought a home. Chris listened to her when she cried over fictional characters deaths or the outrageous theories she came up with when she couldn't stay awake to read her books any further. She held his hand when he went to the hospital with a bad case of the flu, stayed by his bed and kept him up to date on the scores for the football game.

Six years and it's over.

It's over.

[dracosollicitus]

damerey 70 please! you can decide the level of AnGsT

#70: “You know I wouldn’t call unless I was in pain.”

Warnings: Angst, Drinking to forget, brief, mild Poe/OFC

Poe stared at the bottom of his glass and propped his elbows up on the bar. He covered his mouth with a trembling hand, ran it up and down on his face, and then signaled to the bartender for another scotch.

“You might want to slow down, buddy,” Finn said anxiously. Poe fixed him with a bleary-eyed glare (a small part of his brain, the part not absolutely crushed by grief of his own making, knew Finn was right), and Finn raised his hands in surrender. “Suit yourself. Just give me your car keys because I gotta go pick Rosie up from her class, and I do not trust you to drive home.”

“I wouldn’t drive home,” Poe mumbled. It was Finn’s turn to glare, and Poe handed over his keys without another grumble. Finn’s hand was warm on his shoulder when his friend stood to leave.

“Look man, I know it’s not my place, and you’re both adults, but -” Finn cleared his throat. “If you feel like this, just call her.”

“Call her.” Poe snorted into his new drink, and felt his bottom lip tremble from the urge to cry suddenly. “Why the fuck would she want to talk to me?”

Finn squeezed his shoulder and gave him a sympathetic smile. Before he turned to leave, Poe asked the question he’d been trying not to ask all night.

“Does she -” he cleared his throat fruitlessly. The lump was still there. It had been there for five weeks. “Does she sound okay?”

Finn shifted his feet awkwardly and released Poe at last. “I shouldn’t tell you that,” he said. Poe nodded. It wasn’t fair to put Finn in the middle. “But…no, dude. She sounds awful. She misses you too, but you know-”

“I hurt her.” Poe nodded one more time, drained his glass. “I got it.”

“Yeah.” Finn shook his head. “It’s weird, you know? We always thought you two would be the ones who made it.”

“Me too,” Poe whispered. Finn muttered a good-bye, and Poe raised a hand in acknowledgment, and then he was alone. Like he deserved. He was a horrible person who hurt the best woman who ever lived, a woman he still loved desperately, a woman who he swore he saw every time he turned a corner, who he sometimes thought he could see in every tall brunette with a bright smile and a ponytail. But of course they weren’t her. No one was Rey Kenobi, except for Rey Kenobi, and she was in California, and he was in Colorado, in a bar, completely wasted, half his heart ripped out, and it was all his fault.

A minute into his miserable reverie, a person took Finn’s empty seat. “Anyone sitting here?” A pretty young woman batted her eyelashes at him. Poe stared at her for a second; short, blonde, bubbly. The exact opposite of what he wanted, of who he wanted.

“No.” He shook his head and gave her an approximation of the Poe Dameron Smile. “What’s your name?” He almost slipped and called her sweetheart, the way he would have three years ago before Rey Kenobi crashed into his life, before Rey became the only sweetheart he could ever possibly have.

Her name was Abigail; Poe ordered them both another drink.

The next morning, Poe could have sworn it was just the pounding in his head that woke up him. He groaned and rolled over, draping his arm over the cool sheets, grabbing blindly before he remembered the person he was reaching for wasn’t there anymore, hadn’t been there for five weeks. Poe opened his eyes and squinted at the clock; it was 06:00. “Fuck you brain,” he muttered. He should have had more water last night if his hangover was bad enough to wake up him this early.

The pounding started again, but this time it was outside his head. Poe sat up with a groan and wiped his eyes. He stumbled for the door, tripping over the pile of clothes at the end of his bed; the hallway light was on, and he turned it off quickly, unable to handle additional brightness on top of the now persistent banging at his front door.

Who the fuck even -

Poe reached the door, and groaned, “Alright, alright, I’m fucking coming, God,” and he turned the lock, tasting bile in the back of his throat. He pulled the door open, grumbling, “For fuck’s sake, what could possibly be so important that-”

He stopped, cold, in the middle of his sentence. 

Rey Kenobi stood in the hall, her hair falling around her shoulders in soft waves; she was swimming in the J’daii University sweatshirt Rosie had bought her when she was accepted three months ago, there were circles under her eyes, and her phone was clutched in her hand. 

“I tried calling,” she said quietly, looking nervous. “But your phone was dead.”

Poe stared at her, mute with shock. Rey was here. Rey, the love of his life, Rey Kenobi, who he’d imagined so many times as Rey Dameron he’d almost forgotten the sound of her actual name. 

“Can I come in?” She asked, laughing anxiously. He nodded, still unable to speak over the roaring emotion in his throat; he wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t vomit. Poe moved out of the way, and tried not to breathe in too deeply when she walked by; he failed, miserably, and the faint scent of jasmine made tears rush to his bleary eyes. This has to be a dream. 

But it wasn’t. Rey Kenobi stood nervously in his living room - and it used to be their living room, she used to have a key, the dissonance of her having to knock to be let in was almost too much, but if he opened the drawer of the table near the door, he’d find the key she left the day he ended things - and she wrapped her arms around her middle, and Poe fought with himself so he wouldn’t run to her side and pull her to him, hold her and bury himself in her until the last five weeks disappeared into nothing more than distant, fading memory. 

“Why are you here?” Poe asked, wincing at how brusque he sounded. He meant to say, have you come to forgive me? Have you come to drag me back from the dead? Because I’m dying without you. 

Rey gave him a sad smile. “I was worried you wouldn’t remember,” she said. “But I was hoping…”

He looked at her with a question in his eyes, trying to understand, and Rey sighed. She swiped her thumb over her phone screen, fiddled with it for a few seconds, and then tapped once:

A voicemail played on speaker. With his voice. 

Hey, Sunshine. He sounded like shit. In the present, Poe collapsed against the wall, and Rey stared at the floor while his pathetic, sad, slurred, half-crying words filled the living room. 

Am I allowed to call you that anymore? Prob’ly not. Look, you know I wouldn’t call unless I was in pain. And I am in pain, sweetheart. Fuck - I miss you so fucking much. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking, letting you walk away. I shoulda fought for you, Sunshine, and I’m sorry I didn’t. I’m sorry for fuckin’ everything up - 

I jus’ left a girl at the bar. Poe winced, part of last night coming back, and he blushed in remembering what had happened. Clearly Poe from last night had no such reservations, for that Poe launched into an explanation that this Poe would rather the love of his love would never hear:

Her name was - fuck, I can’t even remember. She kissed me. I don’t mean to say that to brag or to make you feel like garbage because I feel like garbage. She kissed me, and all I could see was you. All I could want was you. She sat down next to me, and you know the first thing I thought? She isn’t Rey. No one’s ever going to be Rey. 

It hurts, baby. I know I hurt you, but I hurt myself too. I miss you, and I’d give anything to see you again. Can’t keep doing this. I’ve been drunk more than I’ve been sober these last few weeks. I see you everywhere, hear your voice. It’s like you’re everywhere, but you’re not, you’re not here, and I’m dying, I’m fucking drowning sweetheart, and I need you. I need you so much, and I love you, and I’m always gonna love you. Fuck. I’m sorry. Delete this when you get it. 

I’m-

I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t fight for us. For you. You were worth it. You are worth it. No one should ever walk away from you, Rey. You’re my everything, and I meant it when I said forever. And I’m sorry. 

The call disconnected, and Rey fiddled with her phone again, not looking at him, her cheeks pink.

“That came in about 11 pm my time,” she said softly. “Right after Finn texted me saying you were going off the rails. I caught the earliest flight I could.”

“Why?” Poe whispered.

“To see if you were okay,” Rey said, looking at him at last. He searched her face, but all he could see was sympathy. 

She didn’t love him anymore, she couldn’t; she was just here because she was kind. Rey Kenobi was the kindest person he’d ever met. He opened his mouth to tell her he was fine, but not a single word could come out. 

“Why did you let me go?” Rey asked, nudging the coffeetable (the one they’d found at a flea market, the one she’d restored personally) with her foot, and avoiding his eyes again. 

“Because I was afraid,” he said, honestly. Rey looked up again, and he forced himself to maintain the eye contact. “You were going to school across the country, and I remembered that you were 24, and beautiful, and perfect, and I’m an old man who’s wasting your time, and I didn’t want you to realize that I was holding you back. Couldn’t have you resent me. Not when-” he shook his head. 

“When did you decide to end things?” Rey asked softly. “The day I got in? The day I decided to go?”

“You were reading the acceptance materials,” Poe laughed, closing his eyes against the painful memory. “You looked so fucking happy. I hadn’t seen you look that happy in months. Not with me. And every time you talked about the program while you were reading that packet, you said something like but then I can come back and visit you, or, this weekend looks free, so maybe you could come then, and I thought, ‘she’s going to fucking waste her time trying to plan around me, and she isn’t going to get everything she can out of this.’ And I knew I couldn’t handle you changing your life plans over me.”

“That wasn’t just your decision to make.” Rey looked angry, in a way she hadn’t when he’d ended things. She looked so accepting, that day, looked like she’d been expecting it, looked like it hadn’t surprised her in the least. “Honestly, Poe. Did you even think about asking my opinion?”

“I didn’t want you to lie to make me feel better,” Poe said weakly. She was so beautiful, and between the early light and her incandescent beauty, she was almost impossible to look at through his hangover. “You always sacrifice everything for everyone else. I wanted you to do this for yourself. It’s your PhD, sweetheart, you should be able to focus on it.”

“And I was happy with you,” Rey snapped, circling back, ignoring his argument. “I loved you, Poe, more than anything.”

“Loved?” He asked weakly, hating that he was focusing on the past tense. She ignored that, too.

“Explain to me the ring,” Rey said, arms still crossed in front of her chest. “Explain that to me.”

“What about the ring?” Poe hated the feet of space between them, wanted her in front of him, in his arms, and now. 

“I found it,” Rey said, angrily. “I found the box, the day before you broke up with me. You’d gotten it re-sized, Poe. I know you must have, your mother was tiny.”

He had. And it was still in the box, in his sock drawer, the weight having felt too strange when he tried to put it back on the necklace with his dog tags. It should have been on her finger. 

“Were you going to ask me to marry you?” Rey asked softly, the fight going out of her again. 

“Yes,” Poe whispered. “Yes, I’d been planning on asking on our anniversary.”

Rey snorted, and wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Well, that would have been last week. Huh.”

“Yeah.” Poe nodded once. It should have been last week. “I don’t know how I let you go. It seemed right, right up until I did it. And then.” He shuddered, remembered her quiet, almost serene acceptance. Her things had already been packed up, ready for her move, and she’d just nodded, taken her key off the ring, put it on the table in the foyer, and left, only stopping to grab her bag. Finn had come to get her stuff two days later, and he and Rose had silently loaded the U-Haul. Poe had already been drunk, staring off into space on the couch Rey used to sit on, before he fucked everything up. 

“Why didn’t you call before last night?” 

“I was afraid of what I would say to get you to come home,” Poe laughed bitterly. “I was afraid that you wouldn’t pick up. I was … afraid.”

“If you were afraid, you should have talked to me. We used to be partners, Poe. Partners help each other through things like that.”

“I know.” Poe nodded, miserably. 

Rey stood in his living room, and he fought with the idea that she was even here, was even five feet away from him, and when she smiled at him a minute later, he returned it.

When he held his arms out a minute after that, she walked into them, and held him like she’d never left, like he’d never -

“I don’t ever want to let you go again,” Poe whispered into her hair, tears rolling out of his tired eyes. 

“So don’t,” Rey said, her hands stroking up and down his back. “Don’t let me go.”

He wouldn’t. 

[youandmeandlife]

2004 (s.s)

Summary: Jane’s wedding is coming up, and Sebastian chooses the worst possible time to confess his love for her. 

Warnings: None really

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x OFC, OFC x OMC

Words: 3866

A/N: This is set in 2004, mostly before Sebastian started acting. And btw, Jane’s fiancé is not Tom Hiddleston. 

Her heels clicked loudly against the pavement as she moved down the street, clenching her coat closer to her body as the air blew softly around her. It had always been cold in New York and it was late September, going towards October. The cool breeze was playing with her hair and biting at her exposed skin. She had never been one for the cold, but she was used to, having grown up in London she knew how to dress warm enough not to freeze to death.

Stopping by the crosswalk she pressed a glovecovered finger against the button and waited patiently for the light to switch. Glancing across the street at the bar just ahead she could see her two friends at a table by the window. After a few seconds of waiting, the light turned green and she walked purposefully towards the entrance of the bar. The moment she got inside she sighed in relief. The place was mostly dressed in dark colours and the lights were dimmed down, giving it a dark, yet warm look to it. It wasn’t too warm there, but compared to outside she couldn’t complain.

“Jane!” One of her friends exclaimed as they saw her by the door. Jane smiled, taking her gloves off her hands and stuffing them in her pocket.

“Anna, Lilly,” She greeted them, her accent as thick as ever. Shrugging off her coat as she walked across the floor, she hugged them both, giving them each a little kiss on the cheek.

“We came a little early, so we just ordered a beer for you,” Anna told her, as Jane sat down in a chair.

“That’s lovely, thank you,” She replied and folded her coat in her lap, wanting to regain some warmth.

“Well…” The dirty blond of her friends said, drawing the word out. “Let’s see it!” She squealed impatiently, making Anna chuckle as well while Jane blushed. She held her hand out as both her friends grabbed onto her fingers to hold her hand still.

“Oh my God! What a rock!” Anna gasped, eyeing the huge diamond on Jane’s ringfinger.

“Wow, I am sooo jealous right now!” Lilly sighed dreamily as she eyed the beautifully designed ring.

“Yes, it is quite beautiful,” Jane agreed, wanting a be as humble as possible, not wanting to seem too eager.

“So, when is the big day happening?” Anna asked as the girls finally let go of Jane’s hand.

“Next Saturday,” Jane replied and lifted her glass to her lips, taking a nice, long sip of her beverage. As much as she loved dressing and acting all fancy, she was still a beer-type of gal. “Tom is coming home this Friday and then we’ll spend the entire week planning,” She informed them.

“So soon?” Lilly asked, taking a drink of her Martini.

“Well… yes?” Jane replied, not really understanding what her friend meant by it.

“Are you sure you’re not rushing it?” The dirty blond asked. Jane frowned.

“What she means,” Anna cut in. “Is that; don’t you think this is going a little too fast? I mean, you have know each other for only two months, then he proposes. And after only two weeks of engagement you’re ready to tie the knot?” Anna looked at Jane in such a way that made her look down. She knew this topic would come up.

“Tom is a great guy,” Jane explained. “He loves me very much, which is why he proposed,” Jane tried to justify it, not wanting to get judged by her friends. They couldn’t possibly understand the relationship between Tom and Jane. They were crazy about each other.

“But what about you?” Lilly asked. “Do you love him?” She questioned. It was silent for a moment as both girls stared Jane down as she looked for the best answer possible.

“We-well, of course!” She said. “I wouldn’t marry him if I didn’t,” She said and they both seemed to believe her; at least they let it go. The girls started discussing other things after that, everything from Lilly’s new job to Anna’s ex-boyfriend.

“So, who’s coming to the wedding?” Anna asked some time later that night.

“I’m not quite sure,” Jane answered, her fingers toying with the rim of her glass. “Tom’s mother is coming the Thursday before. I believe his step-father is coming as well. Perhaps other familymembers too, but I’m not certain who exactly he’s invited,” Jane answered with a shrug of her shoulders. “I’m sure you two are more than welcome to come if you want to,” Anna only smiled at her and Jane looked up and caught the eye of the rather handsome waiter who was walking between tables. He held her glance and gave her a short nod before he went to the bar. Jane looked down at her hand brought her fingers down to straighten the ring as it had twister around on her finger. By the time she had decided it was perfectly in place the waiter walked over to their table.

“What can I get for you guys?” He asked, his smile so sweet that his eyes lit up and his teeth were showing.

“I believe she wants another Martini,” Jane pointed at Lilly’s empty seat. “And I would like a pint, please?” She told him, watching as he wrote it down on the little notepad he had in his hands.

“Any kind you’d prefer?” He asked, looking down at her with a questioning look.

“Carlsberg or Heineken will do,” She informed him and watched as he nodded in understanding.

“And for the other lady?” He asked and turned to Anna.

“Well, this lady wants to get drunk,” Anna giggled, making the waiter grin and Jane roll her eyes. “A couple of tequila shots would be nice, and keep them coming,” She said strictly and he laughed.

“Would that be all?” He asked.

“Yes, thank you,” Jane smiled at him as he walked to the bar again.

“He was so cute!” Anna whisper-shouted as Lilly came back from her bathroomtrip.

“Who?” Lilly asked, looking around.

“Anna has developed a crush on the waiter over there,” Jane rolled her eyes as she nodded her head discreetly towards the bar. Lilly looked over and slowly nodded her head in agreement.

“Not bad,” She said, making all the girls chuckle. Not even a minute later the waiter came back with all their drinks, setting them down at the table. Walking away again, he told them to enjoy their evening.

“So, Jane,” Anna asked sometime later that evening, twirling her 6th shotglass around on the table. “How many people have you told about your engagement?” She asked, her tone suggesting something Jane couldn’t put her finger on. The warning look Lilly gave Anna didn’t go unnoticed by Jane, but she ignored it.

“Um, my friends I guess?” She almost asked, not understanding what Anna wanted to get at. “My colleagues at work… You know, everyone who I feel like needs to know,” She answered.

“What about Sebastian?” Anna asked and Jane saw Lilly’s eyes widen. There it was apparently; that’s what she was getting at.

“Sebastian?” She questioned, the name falling from her lips slowly.

“Yes, you know Sebastian, right?” Anna chuckled, her head bowed as she was staring Jane down.

“Well, I know a lot of Sebastians,” She joked, the tension suddenly a little uncomfortable. She knew exactly who they were reffering to.

“You know which Sebastian I’m talking about,” Anna said, almost in a challenging way. Jane sighed. Of course she knew. Sebastian had been her best friend ever since she moved to Seattle from England. They had had an instant connection and he was like a brother to her. Anna had always thought they were so cute together, almost not believing her friend when Jane said there was nothing romantic going on between them.

“Of course I’ve told him,” She answered, a frown settling on her face. “I called him from the house telephone on Monday,” She heard Lilly clear her throat.

“And he was… fine with it?” She asked.

“Why yes!” Jane exclaimed. “He seemed surprised, but he’s happy for me,” Jane told them. “Why?” She asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Lilly answered, a bit too fast for it to be more than nothing.

“Seriously, girls?” Jane groaned. “What’s wrong with Sebastian?” She asked.

“He’s just… he’s kinda, I mean, he has a crush on you,” Anna explained, making Jane laugh.

“I know you guys think there’s something going on between the two of us, but how many times do I have to tell you there’s not? We are just friends. I talked to him about it last summer when you were sooo convinced that he was staring at me all the time when we were at that cabin. It was a misunderstanding. He doesn’t like me like that. We’re just… friends, he’s like my brother,” Jane explained to them, wanting them to stop the stupid idea they have about Sebastian having feelings for her. After the two girls finished exchanging very obvious looks with each other, they let the subject drop. Instead, they started discussing more about the wedding, what plans for the venue Jane had, what kind of dress she wanted, that they should all go dressshoping together. After spending another hour inside the bar the girls decided they better be heading home. It was nearly 10:30 and Anna was starting to get tipsy.

“I’ll make sure Anna gets home safely,” Lilly informed Jane.

“I’m not that drunk!” Anna protested, making Jane hide her smile as she raised her eyebrows at her friend.

“Whatever you say,” Jane shook her head with a smile.

“Do you want us to follow you home?” Anna asked and Jane shook her head.

“Oh, no! I’m alright. I see I have some missed calls and voicemails I need to check,” Jane informed them, holding up her Nokia flipphone. The other girls nodded in agreement. They both said their goodbyes and went their separate ways. Pulling off one glove so she could reach the tiny keyboard, she started going through her texts and missed calls. She decided to just ignore the text she had gotten from Lilly previously that night but never opened. She looked around her and leaned against the wall of a building, out of the way for anyone passing, so she could answer a text from her boss that she could in fact pick up a later shift tomorrow instead of her usual 8 o’clock shift. Once she finished that, she opened the text from Tom, smiling as she read his sweet words.

From: Tom

I tried calling you, but you didn’t pick up. I hope you’re alright. I just wanted to say good night to my lovely wife to be. Love you.

Instead of answering the text, she decided to call him, wanting to hear his voice. Putting the phone to her ear she decided to start moving again, the cold starting to bother her. She held the little phone to her ear with her shoulder as she struggled to put her glove back on. The phone went straight to voicemail, making Jane assume he had turned it off.

“Yes, hello, Tom. It’s me. I’m alright, I was just out having a drink with the girls, I guess I lost track of time. I guess you’re asleep now, but call me tomorrow, will you? Can’t wait for you to come home, bye,” She said shortly and hung up. Still with her glove on her fingers she carefully went to check her own voicemail. Having gotten a few insignificant ones, she just deleted those right away. Seeing that she had received one at 10:23 from Sebastian made her frown. Clicking the bottom to play it she held the phone against her ear.

“Hey, Jane!” Sebastian’s rough voice sounded so loud and enthusiastic in her ear she winced a little. There was a long pause, making Jane look at the display to see if that was all, but it wasn’t. She held the phone back to her ear and waited for the rest. “Hello?” His confused voice finally sounded again. “Jane? You there?... Oh, right this is your voicemail!” Sebastian’s giggle could be heard and Jane knew right away he was drunk. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that you’re so stupid,” Jane lifted her eyebrows at this, both at the remark and at the slur in his voice. “You can’t marry him, Jane. He’s not good for you. You don’t love him, and he doesn’t love you… not like I do. You should love me, and we can get married and be happy, and we can-”

Jane didn’t listen to the rest of it. She only stopped the 5 minute voicemail and deleted it. She took the next right turn, where she would normally turn left, and headed towards Sebastian’s apartment. She didn’t know if he was still awake, and she probably should’ve taken that talk with him when he was sober, but she couldn’t wait. She was so furious.

The walk to his apartment was short. Once she reached the right building she punched in the code to the apartmentcompex, which she knew by heart, and walked through the door. She climbed up the steps as fast as she could, stopping at the top of the stairs of the 5th floor to catch her breath for a few seconds before she knocked on the door of his apartment. Waiting for a few moments, she got no reply so she knocked again, harder this time. She could hear the faint sound of movement inside the apartment and moved away from the door. The door suddenly swung open revealing a very shirtless Sebastian. He looked confused for a moment then his face broke out into a huge, dorky grin.

“Jane!” He yelled, his breath reaching her and she narrowed her eyes at the reek of alcohol. Jane ignored his enthusiasm and pushed him out of the way as she walked into his combined kitchen and livingroom.

“What do you think you’re doing, Sebastian?” She asked him as she walked over to the kitchen isle and leaned against it. Twisting to look at him, she forced herself to focus on anything but his naked torso.

“What?” Sebastian asked, his words still a slur. She raised her eyebrows at him as he slowly closed the door.

“The voicemail you left on my phone, you bloody idiot!” She hissed at him, feeling angry and frustrated and scared all at once.

“What voice- Oh, that one…” He trailed off, shuffling across the floor to the kitchen area. Jane watched as he walked towards the fridge and opened the cupboard above. “I didn’t think I actually sent it,” Jane scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“Well, you did,” She snapped, folding her arms across her chest after taking her gloves off.

“Fancy a drink?” He asked and grabbed a bottle of vodka from out of the cupboard before closing it. Jane scoffed again and walked over to him. She snatched the bottle from out of his hands before he could protest and walked over to the garbage can. Stepping on the little peddle with the tip of her shoe, the lid opened and she dropped the bottle forcefully.

“You’ve had enough,” She told him strictly and watched as the lid slowly fell shut.

“You want cake?” He slurred and she heard the fridgedoor open this time. “I feel like you need a cake. I think I have brownies,” He said. Jane sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she took deep breaths. She walked over to him yet again, this time grabbing his arm and dragging him towards the livingroom. She dropped him down at the couch and took a seat herself in the leatherchair at the other end of the table. “But, cake…” He started.

“Sebastian!” She almost yelled, clearly starling him. “Focus,” She told him, softer this time but still firmly. She held his glance and waited until he nodded.

“Yes ma’am,” He said, almost sounding like a soldier.

“The voicemail,” She said and watched as he nodded again. “Why did you say those things?” She asked, slowly so she was sure his drunken self could understand it.

“I don’t know,” He said and moved to stand up. Jane watched as he lost his balance and fell back down. “I guess I needed to tell you I love you,” He slurred, a sound almost like a burp coming out of his mouth. Jane scrunch her nose up in disgust as she watched his face show a grimace of his own, almost looking like he was about to throw up. He held the face for a moment, then relaxed back in his seat again.

“You can’t just say things like that, Sebastian!” She told him, frustrated.

“Why not?” He asked.

“Because you’re drunk-”

“Just because I’m drunk it’s not true?” He cut her off, making her gape at him. She looked at him for a long second before standing up from her spot. Sebastian followed her suit, stumbling a little as he clearly rose too quickly.

“Forget it,” Jane mumbled, walking past him.

“Where you going?” He asked.

“Home,” She snapped, moving towards the door. “You’re drunk, and you’re talking nonsense. We should not have this conversation right now,” She informed him and reached for the doorhandle. The second she got it an inch open, it was slammed shut again by Sebastian’s large hand pressing against it. “Sebastian,” She warned and turned around to look at him.

“I meant it,” He said, leaning closer, invading her personal space.

“Sebastian,” She said again.

“I do love you,” He said so softly that it was almost a whisper. His alcohol laced breath fanned over her, and she tried really hard not to shiver.

“Well, it’s too late for that now,” She told him, forcing herself to look up at his face and not his bare chest.  

“Why?” He asked, head cocking to the side.

“Because I’m enganged, Sebastian!” She yelled this time, holding her hand in front of his face and flashing her ring. “I’m getting a married in almost a week! You can’t just come and say these things now! I love Tom and-”

“No, you don’t,” He cut her off again. With lightning speed he grabbed her wrist and pushed it against the door behind her.

“Sebastian, get off me!” She hissed, feeling trapped. She brought her other hand up as well, to slap him out of reflex, but it was caught mid-air in his much stronger grip. Sebastian wasn’t a very muscular guy. He was more slim and athletic, but he was still a lot stronger than her. He pinned both her hands against the wall and before she could even register it, his body was pressed against hers, his lips attacking her softer ones. Jane was stiff for a while, her whole body locking up as a self mechanism. She became suddenly aware of how much clothes she was wearing and how unclothed he was. And it felt so wrong, having his body against her like that, but also felt so right.

Within seconds she was closing her eyes and responding to his kiss. She couldn’t help it. She’d had a crush on him during high school, when they’d first met. She might even have been in love with him, she wasn’t really sure. However, as she grew up she believed he didn't feel the same so she never acted on those feelings. She had quickly forgotten about it, or so she thought. Right now, as she was kissing him like her life depended on it, she realized that she had suppressed those feelings, forgotten they were ever there. But now they seemed to bloom again, coming through the surface. And as she realized this, that’s when she pushed him away.

“What?” He asked confused, taken aback that she had somehow gotten her hands free and shoved him away.

“No!” She said as he tried to come near her again. Tears were welling up in her eyes. She was feeling all these emotions she had felt 5 years ago all over again, and it was too much. “Just… don’t,” All Jane wanted to do was to go home and forget that the last 10 minutes had ever happened. But she also wanted him to kiss her again, which was wrong. Sebastian sighed, finally staying away.

“Don’t marry him,” He said in a strangled voice, so quietly Jane almost couldn’t hear it. But she did. Jane shut her eyes and a few tears ran down her face. She tipped her head back against the door behind her and tried to stop… feeling all those stupid emotions.

“I can’t,” She whispered and she shut her eyes tighter as she felt hands plant themselves on her cheeks.

“You don’t have to,” He whispered back, his thumbs rubbing away the tears and probably smearing her make-up as well.

“Yes, I do,” She said, this time opening her eyes. “I gave him my word, I said yes when he proposed. What kind of woman would I be if I don’t honor my word?” She asked, looking him in the eye.

“An honest one,” He shrugged, as if it was that simple. “You don’t love him. Not really,” Jane just let out a shaky breathed laugh, not even denying it. Tom was a great man, he really was, but she didn’t love him. She believed she could one day, which is the reason she said yes in the first place, but she hadn’t gotten that far yet. “Don’t marry him,” Sebastian repeated. “Please don’t,” He breathed, begging. One of his hands left her face to take her left hand in his. His fingers toyed with the ring and Jane sighed.

“Sebastian,” She said slowly.

“Be mine,” He whispered. “Please,” There it was again, him begging.

“Sebastian,” It was the only word that she seemed to be able to get out.

“Just for tonight. I just want you to be mine for one night, that’s all I’m asking,” His eyes were searching hers and for a moment that seemed to be the only thing that mattered.

“Okay,” She whispered, regretting it the moment the word left her mouth. Sebastian pulled the ring from her finger and dropped it carelessly to the ground. Jane was about to look for it when Sebastian’s lips fell on hers again. This time she responded instantly. She knew that cheating on her soon-to-be-husband was a bad idea, and she felt terrible, truly, but she couldn’t seem to care. So, when Sebastian hands opened the ribbon of her coat and the buttons, she pushed aside all the guilt she was feeling and let him get rid of the clothing. Her coat was thrown away on the ground somewhere and when his hands immediately went to pull her blouse out of her skirt, she felt a slight panic settle in her. She stopped him when he tried to remove her blouse. “We can’t,” She mumbled against his lips.

“We can,” He assured her and pushed the material over her head. This time she let him.

[my-emotional-self]

Let Me Protect You Part 2/Chapter 9

Pairings: Chris Evans x OFC Emilia

Word Count: 1,485

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, So Many Emotions, Blood

Trigger Warning: Self-Harm

Rating: R (Mature)

Summary: Now that Chris and Emilia have established their relationship, she moves into his house after her brother decides to live in New York. Emilia is in bliss, thinking maybe her life will finally be at peace.  But are things always that easy in Emilia’s life?

 It had been a lovely two weeks since Valentine’s Day.  Things were going pretty smoothly.  You were off your meds, but still had not told Chris yet.  He was preparing to leave for Louisiana, to go to Wizard World Comic Con and you didn’t want to disrupt his mindset.  You knew he got anxiety about these things.

Lucky enough for you, there was nothing that triggered your mood swings, which made things very easy to hide these past two weeks.  Naturally, you stopped hoping things were always be this good, because let’s just face it, it never happened that way for you.  You were a walking bad luck charm in your own eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me beautiful?” Chris asked as he stood in the doorway of your craft room while you worked away.  “This is your thing Chris.  I don’t want to distract you from your fans, or your guy time,” you turned giving him a sweet smile.  

He let out a sigh as he moved towards you.  “Emilia,” he said cupping your face, “You are not a distraction alright?  And plus, the guys want to meet you.  They are getting annoyed with how much I talk about you and they haven’t met you yet.”

You stood up from your chair, wrapping your arms around his neck.  “I’ll be fine here Chris.  You go and have fun and I will see you on Monday.”

His eyes were searching yours, making sure you were going to be alright.  “Well, if anything happens, I left Matt’s number on the fridge.  He’s always home so he can watch Dodger if needed alright?” You nod to him, a smile gracing both your lips.  “I love you Chris.  Have fun.”

“I love you too beautiful. I’ll let you know when I made it there safely” Chris said before giving you sweet tender kiss.  

~~~

Later that night, you were curled up with Dodger on the couch, a glass of wine in your hand.  Tomorrow was Friday, and it was the day of Charlie’s hearing.  You told Chris you weren’t going to go, but you were going to anyways.  You would sit quietly in the back, unnoticed; you needed to know how long he would be locked up for.  He deserved to rot for years in a cell.  He stalked you, found out where you lived, beat you, and almost killed you.

Your phone chimed; Dodger peaked his head up at the noise.  Giggling, you scratched his head, “It’s just your daddy sill boy.”

Chris: Just got to the hotel beautiful.  We are staying at New Orleans Downtown Marriott at the Convention Center.  I’m in room 308.  

Emilia:  Sounds good baby.  You go out and have some fun with the guys.  Get some sleep tonight too ;)  I love you

Chris: But I’m going to be so lonely without you or Dodger :( I won’t get too drunk.  I promise.  We have an early day tomorrow.  I love you too beautiful

~~~

The next morning you were up early as you quickly showered, dressed and grabbed some toast for breakfast. It was all you could handle; your stomach was queasy just thinking about being in the same room as Charlie.  

Chris had texted you, letting you know he would be shutting his phone off.  He had so much going on today with panels, autographs, signings and interviews.  He said he would text you the first chance he got.  

Driving to the courthouse, your knuckles were white with how hard they gripped the steering wheel. Your stomach was in knots and you had to sip on some water to fight back to urge to vomit.  

You almost completely regretted doing this, especially alone, as you walked into the courtroom.  Sitting quietly in the back, your legs and hands were fidgeting.  

Charlie walked in, clad in an orange jumpsuit, hands cuffed behind his back.  Blood was pumping so hard in your ears you barely understood what the judge had said; your eyes shooting daggers into the back of Charlie’s head.  

“Because this is a first time offence, and your record is spotless, you will serve six months jail time and 250 hours of community service” the Judge stated before slamming his gavel down.

“Six months.  SIX FUCKING MONTHS! Are you fucking kidding me” you mind roared inside your head.  No, he deserved so much more than that.  Who cares if it was a first time offence, he almost killed you!  Your hand rose up to your throat, visions swarming your mind of when Charlie had his hands around your throat.  

Charlie rose from his set, his eyes scanning the crowd, landing on you.  He gave you an evil devilish grin, and then winked at you.  Your insides twisted and you felt nauseas. Standing up frantically, you clutched your purse and ran out of the courtroom, never looking back.

The whole way home you cried; your vision blurred by the waterfall of tears that were relentless. Luckily you made it home with no accident.  Bursting through the door, you flung yourself upstairs and to the bathroom at record speed.

Collapsing on the floor, your mouth hung open and all you wanted to do was scream; but nothing came out. You were in utter shock, rocking back and forth on the cold tiled bathroom floor.  Your hands were twisted in such a way that your nails were digging into your wrists.  Sobs wracked your body, causing you to tremble.  

Dodgers nose nudged open the bathroom door as he came to sit by your side, licking your tears. Usually he could always make you feel better, but not this time.  You let his wet tongue lick your face, while you sat there in a comatose state.  

The words “six months” kept singing in your head; a vision of Charlie doing happy dance.  That fucking bastard got off easy.  He would be out of jail in six months, roaming freely. Dodger whimpered by your side, causing you to break from your thoughts.  

You looked down to him and saw him staring at your hands.  Blood seeped from your wrists, your nails embedded roughly into the skin. You hadn’t even realized what you were doing in all this mess.  Freeing your nails, you hissed at the pain.  Crescent moon shapes from your nails were left covering both your wrists as blood pooled to the surface.  

In all reality, the thought of self-harming didn’t even come to your mind.  And yet it happened; you did it subconsciously.  Shakily getting onto your feet, you run your wrists under the warm water coming out of the facet.  The pain felt wonderful as your breathing started to return to normal.    

Once your hands were dried, you found our phone and called Chris.  It went straight to voicemail.  He hadn’t even texted you yet which meant he had yet to have any free time. Pacing around the bathroom, all you could think about was the pain on your wrists, and how you craved more. But you wanted to be strong.  Your eyes scanned the cupboard where you hid your razor the first night you moved in.  

Your mind battled with your heart over what to do.  Your mind telling you to do it, get that release, as your heart was telling you to think about Chris, how hurt he would be.  

Chris.  Your boyfriend.  You needed him and he wasn’t here.  Glancing down at the promise ring on your finger, his words from Christmas morning rang in your head. “This is a promise ring.  A promise from me to you.  I promise to be the man you want and need.  I promise to be there for you at any time, day or night.  If I’m not with you physically, I will only be a phone call away.”

Why is he breaking that promise??  He’s not really a phone call away because he won’t answer his phone!  Anger quickly started working its way through your body. You needed him at this moment in time, and he was breaking his promise to you.  Has he really not had any free time yet?  Not even enough to give you a text back?  Your heart was breaking at each thought that crossed your mind; both anger and sadness fighting in your body.  

A thought occurred to you. Rushing into the closet, you got out your duffel bag and placed a few days’ worth of clothes inside.  You called Matt asking if he could come over to pick up Dodger and watch him for a few days.  Matt happily accepted, saying he had that code to get in through the garage and he’d be over in a few hours to get Dodger.  

Bending down, you gave Dodger a kiss on his forehead and scratched at his ears.  You locked up the house, got in your Jeep and headed towards the airport.  

Tag List; @iamwarrenspeace @ssweet-empowerment @always-an-evans-addict @patzammit @tacohead13 @littlemissacorn @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @miss-cap21 @missfirstavenger @thedoctorscamanion @captainamerica-ce @pumbibaby @remember-that-one-blog @wildestdreamsrps @kanupps06 @zohoffman

[iwantthedean]

Take It All Back

Part One

Summary: As season one filming comes to a close, Jensen gets some shocking news from home. Pairing: Jensen x OFC (Macy) Word Count: 1635 Warnings: Drinking, language, mentions of hospitalization. 

A/N: The new Jensen x OFC series begins! It will be twenty parts total, so hang on to your hats. Something new I’m doing with this: the intro stuff (summary, pairing, etc.) will pertain to that part in particular. Never too late to be added to the tag list if you’re interested! Also, if you haven’t already, check out this song, as it was the inspiration for this fic. 

Just a few more days of filming and the first season of Supernatural would be completed. Jensen had to admit, he had no idea that his life would ever bring him here, but he was sure happy that it had. Not only had he met some amazing people, including his now-best friend Jared Padalecki, but he genuinely loved working on the show.

He’d also met Macy in the process. She was a model who had guest-starred on an early episode in the show, and they had hit it off. Jensen wasn’t looking for anything serious, and Macy was content to be the only girl he was seeing, even if there was never any talk of future plans. That was the kind of girl Jensen could be content with, even if it was only for now.

Occasionally the success of his new show made Jensen wish for the quiet and peace of being back home. Not to mention, sharing all of this excitement with his friends and family would have made the whole experience even better.

“Hey man, you drinking tonight?” Jared asked, catching him as he walked to catch a ride back to the apartment building where he was staying while he was in Vancouver.

Jensen shrugged. “Yeah, I could down a few beers. Doing some packing up to head home for the hiatus, though.”

“No big deal,” Jared assured. “I’m good to nose through your shit.”

Jensen playfully pushed his co-star, and the two of them got into the car that would take them to Jensen’s apartment.

 Jared couldn’t believe the number of boxes in Jensen’s apartment. He was going to be shipping a bunch of things back home, and Jared told him just how crazy he was for that.

“I had intended to go through everything while I was here, and of course got far too busy to organize,” Jensen explained. “Doing some of that now, I suppose.”

“Yeah, right, organization,” Jared snorted. “I don’t know how Macy deals with all this mess.”

“She doesn’t. We meet at her place.”

Jared drank down some of the beer from the can in his hand, meandering over to a stack of pictures on the coffee table. He set his beer can down and plopped onto the cushion, looking through the photos one by one.

“Hey Jay, who’s this girl?”

Jensen appeared from the bedroom and saw the pictures Jared was looking at. “Oh, uh, just a girl from back home.”

Jared raised his brow. “That stack is like an inch thick, and she’s in every photo. She’s not just a girl from back home.”

Jensen took a few of the pictures that Jared had set back on the table, and smiled to himself. “Yeah, you’re right. That’s Journey Ryan. Her family moved in down the street when I was in third grade and she was in first. We were always friends, somehow, and when I was thirteen and she was eleven, we made one of those stupid promises about getting married at thirty-five if we weren’t married to anyone else.” He got lost in memories for a few moments before tossing the photos back to the table. “We dated for three years before I left for Los Angeles. Journey never wanted to leave home, so we ended it and we haven’t really talked much since. I see her every now and then when I visit home, but it’s always in passing.”

“You’re still into her,” Jared observed before finishing off his beer.

“Nah,” Jensen said, shaking his head, “I mean, she’s always going to be my first love and the love of my life. That was all a long time ago, though. I don’t know why I even keep these pictures.”

He took all of them then and put them in a nearby box. There was no throwing them away, but if Jensen packed up the pictures and never thought about them, that was more or less the same thing … right?

 Their final day of filming was a short one. Jensen checked his phone as soon as they were done filming, and a concerned look etched into his features.

“You all right?” Jared asked.

“I think so. Mom called seven times during that take. Listen, I’m going to call her back and head to the apartment. You’re still coming over later?”

Jared nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I get all my stuff together here.”

“Good deal,” Jensen said, cueing up his voicemail. “Oh, shit, Macy was supposed to meet me here. If I can’t get a hold of her, will you just let her know I headed back early?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Jensen walked away then, picking up the pace at his mother’s desperate tone in the several voicemails she had left.

 Macy had indeed shown up on the studio lot. Jared offered for them to share a cab to Jensen’s apartment.

“He didn’t tell me he had left,” Macy frowned.

Jared checked his watch. “He left more than an hour ago, said he was going to call you. He got a bunch of calls from back home – hopefully everything’s all right.”

Jared and Macy got in the cab then, and Jared gave the cabbie Jensen’s apartment building address. They chatted about their respective plans for the summer, and silence took over once they reached the apartment building.

The door was unlocked, so the pair let themselves in. Macy announced their presence before she realized the pictures that were spread over the coffee table.

“What in the world …” she breathed out, picking up a couple of them and frowning. “Jared, who is this girl?”

“Her name is Journey,” Jensen said, coming into the front room with a can of beer in hand. A few empty cans were already littering the floor. “She’s the love of my life.”

Jared’s eyes went wide. “Jay, maybe right now isn’t the best time …”

“She’s dying,” Jensen blurted out. “That’s why my mom called so many times. There was a car accident today. Journey’s car flipped several times, took them a long time to get her out. She’s on life support and her family will be deciding in the next few days whether to see if she survives it or if they should pull the plug.”

Macy sat on the couch next to her boyfriend, rubbing her hand over his back. “Jay, I’m so sorry. So, you know her from back home?”

Jared interrupted before Jensen could say anything. “You know what, you should eat something if you’re going to be drinking that much. Why don’t we order pizza? Macy, do you mind making the call?”

“Don’t wanna eat,” Jensen said, cracking open another beer. “The one girl in my life that I’ve ever loved is on her deathbed because some fucking jackass doesn’t know how to use a stoplight.”

The hurt on Macy’s face was obvious. Jared tried to intervene on Jensen’s behalf, but Macy stood from the couch and waved Jared off.

“This is obviously not a good time for me to be here,” Macy said, her voice shaking with the threat of tears. “I’ll head out. Uh, Jared, you’ll let me know if you boys need anything?”

Jared assured her that he would and saw her to the door with an apologetic smile. Turning back to his friend, he told Jensen sternly that he was going to eat something, and then they would drink as much and as late as Jensen wanted.

 The pizza was mostly gone, as was the beer. They had moved on to hard liquor, setting up short glasses and playing a game of quarters while Jensen told Jared stories about growing up with Journey and all of the memories he had with her.

“She was the first girl I ever kissed,” Jensen sighed. “I know that’s corny, but I don’t even care. That day I made her promise to marry me at thirty-five. Her eleventh birthday, actually. I gave her this bracelet that I got out of one of those quarter machines … anyway. I kissed her when she agreed. I thought she was going to faint, her face was so red when I stepped back.”

He bounced a quarter into a glass. He finished off its contents, then refilled the cup. He went on to talk about Journey sneaking out of the house to see him when she was grounded, and Jensen taking her out when he got his first car.

“And she may be dead before I even make it home to say goodbye,” Jensen slurred out. “How’d it end up this way? Journey, man, she’s perfect. She teaches deaf kids and volunteers at a nursing home. She still has supper with her family at least once a week. She’s never wanted for anything more than she has. Me, on the other hand, I left home because I wanted more – way more. I wanted more than the life I would have had with Journey. What the hell was I thinking?”

Jared clapped him on the back. “Miracles happen, Jay. Maybe she’ll pull through. Either way, I’m sure you’ll get home before they decide anything. You said that your mom was in touch with Journey’s family, and they know you want to see her.”

Jensen nodded, expertly moving a quarter over his knuckles. Finally, he let the coin fall into his palm. Before bouncing it into a glass of liquor, he took a deep breath.

“I just wish I could go back,” Jensen said. “I’d take it all back in a second if it meant that I had Journey, and that she was gonna be okay.”

The quarter landed with a muffled clink at the bottom of the glass; it was the last drink Jensen remembered having before Jared put his sorry, drunk ass to bed.

[avidfanficwriter]

Failed Repetition (Chapter 3)

Characters: Chris Evans X OFC!

Summary: For as long as Chris can remember, he’s wanted to get married. He has wanted the white picket fence, beautiful wife on his arm and a house full of kids unlike his counterpart who isn’t thrilled with the prospect of marriage.

Rating: T

Warnings: Cursing.Mention of sexual acts/Situations.

Tags:  wolflhards. @tacohead13

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4.

Take care, Reagan.

Take care, Reagan.

The note was ended as if they hadn't spent the last six years together, like they hadn't lived together for four years or the 'I love yous' shouted during nights of passion were meaningless.

The note closes as if they were strangers, two random people who accidently bumped into one another on the sidewalk. Distant, Cold and longing to get away from one another. This wasn't how two people in love parted.

Was this what he deserved? A note as a goodbye--In place of a conversation? No explanation. No speech. Just a discarded piece of paper left on the counter and an insensitive 'Take care.'

Twenty minutes after reading the note, it finally starts to sink in, Chris calls Reagan and leaves her a long rambling voicemail that says nothing more than, "I love you, please come back." in fifteen different ways. He promises he'll stop bring marriage up, that it's not even that important to him if it costs him her.  They should talk in person, he says the first thing that comes to his mind in the voicemail and it mimics someone whose entirely lost, which he is. She's gone and he's to blame.

The pain hasn't set in yet, right now it's just pure panic.

He wanders around the house, searching for anything to keep his mind occupied while he waits for her to call back. Two hours pass and he sends her a text message:

"Reagan I love you Im sorry just come home so we can talk about this."

No response.

The house feels like it's haunted with memories of Reagan, every space inside the home reminds him of her. The counter where she accidently spilled her tea onto one of his scripts, they spent three hours blowing drying the pages so they were legible. The couch in the living room that looked amazing in the store but they soon discovered looked terrible after being brought into their home. The hole in the wall from when they put the paintings up, Chris slipped and in order to avoid hitting Reagan with the hammer he slammed it into the wall creating a huge hole; it became a great conversation starter. If it's not the memories torturing him, it's his mind tricking him into believing she's home.

Chris starts to beat himself up, if he would have just told her he was awake when she came home this wouldn't have happened. If he wasn't stubborn for just one moment of his life, he wouldn't have lost the best thing to ever happen to him. Even if he would have joined her in the guest room or carried her into their bedroom, this could have played out differently. They could have spoken, he could have prevented her from leaving. He would be exiled to the couch but at least she would've been home.

By noon, Chris had resorted to drinking in order to prevent himself from calling Reagan, at first it seemed like a good idea, he'd get drunk enough to pass out and by tomorrow she would be home. His plan was flawed, instead of passing out, he wound up calling Reagan again.

"I miss you." He whispers into the phone, his body slack and head spinning. "I do. I miss all of you, your tiny smirk when I'd say something smart, the curl in your hair you always fought to get out of your eyes; the way you bit your lip when you read." He exhales deeply, closing his eyes and holding the phone tighter to his ear. "I miss how you sound when I'm buried inside of you, those fucking pretty little sounds you make. I miss feeling your thighs shake around my head while you pull my hair as you beg for more."

Sober Chris had boundaries. Drunk Chris didn't care. "The way you taste, how you linger on my tongue hours after we're done and all I want to do when I come home is bury my head between your thighs again. Fuck, Rea..." He groans, palming his erection through his sweatpants. "I love the way your lips feel against mine, how your heart rate increases when I kiss along your collarbone. How your chest rises as I kiss down your body like you're on full display for me. I love that... I love you, Reagan."

Phone call number two, is less sexual but not at all any better.

"Do you remember when we first started dating?" He asks, glancing at the photos of them along the wall. "You told me you only dated guys that took relationships series, I told you I was one of them and you made this big schedule of things for us to do for me to prove my worth? And one of them was cooking? You made this fucking amazing meal, that stuffed bell peppers stuff and a homemade cheesecake and when it came my turn It was so bad."

Chris lets out a small chuckle over the memory. "I tried to make some chicken recipe I found online but I burned it. The smoke detectors were going off, the house smelled like smoke and then you showed up and I thought you were going to run. I could see it, this look of fear on your face." Chris shakes his head, rubbing at his eyebrow. "I ended up making eggs and we had to eat them outside because of the smell. Then you made that pie for thanksgiving to take over to my mom's and I burned that too. All I had to do was take it out of the oven while you were in the shower but I forgot. We should do that again, Rea."

Chris closes his eyes. "My mother would kill me but I always loved your pies more. Blueberry was my favorite." He clears his throat. "Do you remember that blueberry one we made for my nieces fundraiser and somehow we ended up eating it on the floor in the kitchen? My sister was so mad at us."

Phone called number three is mess. Chris doesn't know what he's saying anymore or what he's even trying to get at. Words are just coming out.

"Reagan" He starts off, holding back a sob. "I walked into the bathroom earlier and your soap was gone. I started crying... over soap. Soap!" He sniffles and lets out a small laugh. "I spent twenty minutes just sobbing in the restroom. I was fine when I saw you took some clothes but that soap. That stupid grapefruit soap you took and it broke me." Chris starts chuckling as tears pile in his eyes. "I didn't cry over the note you left, I was shocked but that goddamn empty shelf in the shower broke me." He voices slowly trails off into a whisper.

Chris wipes a tear that falls from his eye, "You're not coming back tomorrow are you?" He questions with a deep sigh.  "I just...I just wanna hear your voice, just pick up the phone, baby. God, Reagan." He pleads. "if you just give me a second to explain...."

"If you’re satisfied with your message, press 1. If you’re not and want to re-record, press 2. If you want to delete and start over, press 3." The voicemail recording interrupts him.

Chris growls, "Fuck!" he shouts throwing the phone across the room.

There's pain ripping through his chest as the hours pass, all he wants is for her to call him back or magically walk through the front door. He wants her to yell at him, call him an idiot, kick him out of the house that would hurt far less than what she's doing now. If they were arguing or fighting and she slammed the bedroom door on him it wouldn't hurt like this was. This, Reagan leaving with her things, refusing to answer his calls was torture. It felt like his heart was being pulled out of his body as if the arteries were being stretched until they tore.

He's done drinking, it's not helping, it's only worsening his heartache. The liquid seems to only intensify his emotions, everything makes him cry. The sight of a book she left, feels like a stab to the chest. Her coffee cup in the cabinet, makes him hold his chest and collapse to the ground. The smell of her perfume on the sheets in the guest bedroom makes him ill.

The second day isn't any easier, there's still no phone call from Reagan, or text message; or even an email. He drinks a cup of coffee and stares at the harrowing note that he hasn't been able to move from the counter. It's been reread multiple times as if he's searching for something else, a hidden meaning behind one of the words; or the possibility he's misunderstood it. There's nothing new, no matter how many times he reads it, it's just more heartache.

With his head on straight and no alcohol in his system, he calls her one more time.

The phone goes to voicemail and his stomach drops. There was a tiny part of him that expected her to answer this time. It's been twenty-four hours since he's seen her and even longer since he's spoken to her.

"Reagan," He starts out, calmly. "Baby," he tries to focus on his breathing, slow and deep breathes so he doesn't lose sight of what he's doing here. He wants Reagan to come home. That's his goal, to get his girl to come back home. "I... fuck." With a loud groan, he drops the phone from his ear and rubs his face. He doesn't know what to say or how to began. He's left her countless messages that got him nowhere, if any of them counted this was the one.. "I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry. Just please come home, we can talk about this." He's bargaining, hoping she hears the sincerity in his voice before realizing his statement could be taken the wrong way. "No, I mean, we don't have anything to talk about. Okay? I fucked up, you're right. I shouldn't be forcing you to do what I want, I should've just shut up. I want to get married but if I have to choose between you or that, I choose you. I want you. I want you as my girl, my girlfriend, my friend, lover. Whatever we want to call it, I'm for. I can't lose you." He's rambling. "I love you, please just come home."

Three hours pass and the realization she may never come back home finally gets to him, he panics in the middle of making something to eat. It's a simple task but he caught sight of the Captain America: The First Avengers script Reagan had framed for him and it hit him like a punch to the gut.

His heart beat like a jackhammer, his mind is racing and he's struggling to breathe.

His fingers are tingling and the room is getting dangerously hot.

His body hurts and he's on the verge of passing out.

He can hear his heartbeat and feel it in his eardrums.

A panic attack.

Chris digs his cell phone out of his pocket and calls Reagan.

"Answer... Answer, Reagan. Please."

"This is Reagan, leave a message." Voicemail again.

He groans, hanging up the phone and grabs at his chest. The tips of his fingers are on fire, burning his skin, adding to the pain. Then he calls her again and again. Listening to her voice on her voicemail starts to calm him, his heart rate gets under control, the pressure on his lungs starts to dissipate. He can focus.

On the last phone call, he leaves one simple message. "Reagan, I'm so fucking sorry."

The next phone call he makes is wrong, it's not his place but if anyone knows how to get ahold of Reagan it would be her mother. She may have neglected to tell him where she was going but she would always tell her mother.

"Chris, she told me not to talk to you." Her mother says quickly after answering the phone.

He exhales deeply. "I just need to talk to her. She left in the middle of the night and she wont answer her phone."

"She's upset, Chris."

"I know!" He grabs his hair and groans. "I took it to far, I fucked up but I woke up and she was gone. Her stuff is gone and I'm suppose to just be okay with that?" He questions. "I don't get a chance to apologize or an opportunity to talk? I don't get to fight for her? She decides one night that we're done and that's it? I don't get told she doesn't want to be with me or that she doesnt love me to my face?"

Reagan's mother sighs. "Chris, honey..."

"We been together for six years, Margaret... six years. I love her. She's the last thing I think about before going to bed and the first thing I think about when I wake up. I can't... This can't end this way."

Chris knocks on the door, quietly at first before building up the courage to knock harder. The lock clicks causing his heart to race then the door slowly opens and there she is. Their eyes meet and she looks away, glancing at the ground with a sigh. "My mother?" She asks.

"Your mother." Chris says, shoving his hands into his pockets.