#I can feel the hyper fixation slowing inching closer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ssa-daddyhotchner · 3 years

Text

The Struggle of Loving You - Chapter 28

Chapter Selection

Three months later

Emily and Garcia made plans for the team. They had spoken to JJ and we all were going to get drinks later today.

I was sitting in my car driving over to the coffee shop, I hadn't gotten any for the apartment and the coffee at the office tasted burnt.

I stood in line and my mind wandered over to Hotch, it was earlier in the morning... maybe he wanted some. But I also thought about when he was hurt. When the arrow was sticking out of his body.

"That's my girl", what did he mean by that. Why did he say that?

It could've been from the blood loss. That he was disoriented. Hotch was still getting over the injury, he had a close call in surgery. He had already lost so much blood laying on the floor waiting for the ambulance.

I was sitting in the waiting room for hours, I never left to the hotel.

When he woke up I was the first person he saw. With a weak smile spread across his face, he was happy to see me. Nothing ever happened after that though, no little moments.

Other than staying with him in the hospital I was rarely there.

Emily helped him for the most part, helping him get home. Jack was staying with Hayley until Hotch was fully recovered.

He couldn't wait to get back to work, when he did he wasn't allowed in the field. Being strictly confined to the office, but it was better than nothing at all.

We talked more than we did before that day but not as much as I would like. I found the awkward silence was better than breaking it so we barely said anything.

I ordered and decided on getting everyone a cup. After paying I got back into my car and drove to the office, walking inside and deciding on taking the elevator.

Before the elevator doors closed the person inside opened them for me, "Hey mama."

I smiled and remembered, "Oh here... got you some."

I handed him his cup and we walked inside the bullpen. "Are the rest for you", he laughs.

"Of course, you know I drink nothing but coffee." I went around the desks and placed their drinks on it.

"It would explain why you're always hyper and jittery", scoffing, I put Reids drink down in front of him.

"You have jokes now."

His boyish smile tugged on his lips and he looked back down at his book. I turned back and glanced up at Hotch's office, seeing his figure in the window.

Taking a few deep breaths I grabbed the last cup and walked up. Knocking softly I heard his deep voice rumble through the door.

He looked up from his desk, "Y/n?" He dropped his pen, I placed the drink on his. "Still take it black?" He huffed.

"Yeah", the small talk was over, I made my way towards the door until he stopped me. "Are you going with us tonight?"

"Wouldn't miss it", with that I walked out to my desk, getting started on the pile of paperwork that needed to be done. Being a slow day, there were no interruptions.

I took a few phone calls but nothing major. I knew who was coming up behind me when I heard the heels clicking.

"Y/n come on" , I tossed my head back and stood up collecting the completed files in my hands. "Alright hold on", Garcia waited by my desk while I dropped off my work.

"Done already?", he was a little surprised. "Hotch you have to know by now I always exceed your expectations."

"That you do."

We shared a smile, inside I was still grinning. I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy those very limited small conversations.

"We're gonna dress her up", Pen said to Emily as we joined her in the elevator. I got in my car and they met me at the apartment. Walking in I left the door open because they were right behind me.

"Bedroom now", Emily said and she shut the door, we all marched down the hallway.

I sat on the bed, not touching anything. I watched as they tore through my closet looking for a good dress. "Oh shit y/n, what about this."

She held out the dress I wore underneath my gown for graduation. The fitting skin tight dress, that hugged everything the right way.

It was also the dress I was wearing when Hotch and I ended up fucking in the club.

It brought back memories I didn't want to remember at the moment. "I don't know about that... I don't think it fits anymore."

"Try it anyways", she handed it to me and I wasn't going to fight her on it. I grabbed it and headed to the bathroom, closing the doors and threw it on.

I ran my hands over my body, feeling the fit.It still fit perfectly, I walked out and showed them, "See it fits, wear it."

"I would but I don't have any shoes for it", right as those words were said Emily pulled out the pair of black heels Chloe would let me borrow. "Who's Chloe?"

"Old friend", they shrugged and put my clothes back in the closet, cleaning up their mess.

"Aren't you guys going to change?", they walked into the kitchen and Em pulled out a bottle of wine.

"Trust me that'll take five minutes for me to get ready", Garcia agreed because she was already ready.

"So... do you like Hotch?", Em said pouring me a glass. I shifted away a few inches and took the glass. I brought it to my lips.

"He's okay", she raised her eyebrows and Pen just cocked her head to the side.

"What's that look for?" , she shook her head. "No reason— It just seems that both of you I don't know, like each other."

I almost choked on my drink, I started laughing a bit. I tried to act like she was lying but the blush creeping up my cheeks gave it away.

But I could blame that on the wine, "What makes you say that? We barely have spoken more than a minute and he doesn't even stay around me for more than he needs to."

Even Garcia was looking at me like I was crazy. Was it that obvious... I get they're profilers but we haven't done anything at all to insinuate feelings whatsoever.

"Really y/n you're going to stand there and say you don't like him... I'm not a profiler and I can tell the little subtle glances. How his eyes linger on you for a little too long. And you do the same thing to him. There may be no words but it's something."

I wasn't sure what to say... couldn't exactly say to them that I used to fuck our boss. That we broke it off because of the job.

"I don't know, I mean he's attractive yes but I wouldn't."

It pained me to say that... all I wanted to do was jump into his arms.

To have him kiss me until I couldn't breathe, my body yearned for his touch and my mind craved him as a person.

I wanted him back but that wasn't realistic, not right now.

Emily got a text and checked her phone.

"Let's go", Emily mumbled, trying not to spill her wine. I followed them out to the car and we drove to meet the team and JJ.

Getting there I was hounded with questions, they just wanted to get to know me more. But then it started getting personal and somehow worked its way back to Hotch.

"Okay can we stop", I mumbled. They barely heard me but they got the message. I was over it, talking about anything was fine but I wanted to stay away from that subject.

Constantly asking what he thinks of me and vice versa. Whether we'd be a good couple or not, I already knew those answers.

And those answers hurt more than anything because I also know how that ended.

Walking into the club I already saw where everyone was, Morgan was on the floor joined with a few women.

Rossi was in the corner working on the next Mrs Rossi, Reid was also at the bar talking to the bartender.

Hotch... he was talking to a woman that had made herself comfortable at our table.

I took a deep breath and made my way over with Emily and Garcia, "Is JJ he— hey." Em spotted JJ walking out of the bathroom.

"I missed you so much, how are you guys?" JJ came over and gave a big hug to Em and Pen. I stood there awkwardly, "This— is y/n she was the one I told you about." They pulled me closer to them.

"Hi, they told me a lot about you", I said with a smile. My eyes kept fixating over to Hotch that was now smiling at her and making her laugh.

"Nice to meet you, guys. I'm going to sit down." They nodded and said they were going to grab some shots for all of us.

I went over to the table and Hotch turned his head to the side, seeing me. As I got closer he started to ignore the woman he was with, me being his only focus.

I sat down next to him, "Who's your friend?" The woman said in a jealous tone.

"Kelly this is y/n, we work together", she looked me up and down. I wasn't having it, I wasn't in the mood for a pissing match. If she wanted him she could take him.

"You look gorgeous by the way", the woman scoffed and got up from the table. Now it was just us... together alone.

"Thank you", he was about to open his mouth when the team came back over with the drinks. "Aye look who finally got here." I laughed as Morgan sat next to me.

"I got here like five minutes ago not to mention the same time as Garcia and Emily."

"Didn't see you. You're not a very vocal person, but it's ok mama", he put an arm around me and kissed my temple. Smiling, I reached in the middle for a shot.

I looked around and didn't notice the woman Morgan was with, "Where are little lady friends."

He looked down at the drink in his hand and finished it, "Oh I'll be seeing them soon."

Tossing my head back I took a shot and my throat burned while it made its way down.

All joining me they went for it. "Reid what happened with the bartender, she was into you."

"No she wasn't"

"Reid I know I'm new and I get you're a profiler but how could you not tell, it's obvious."

"Really", Reid said, I could see the pink covering his face. He was embarrassed that he didn't notice.

"Yes smart ass, go get some", Emily told him and he took another shot for confidence and went back to the bar.

Minutes after that Morgan brought over more drinks and seeing as I wasn't really in the best state of mind because of what Garcia and Emily were talking about prior to the gathering, I was upset.

I continuously started drinking with no sign of stopping.

..........................

Permeant taglist : @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @oreogutz @qtip-blog @aberrant-annie @errorcosplay67

#aaron #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #hotchner #hotch #writing #fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #fanfic #aaron hotch fanfiction #Criminal Minds

14 notes · View notes

anastiel · 7 years

Text

High For This

1.6k. Jared/Jensen. Explicit. (ao3)

Bass thumps against Jared’s chest, a steady rhythmic beat; combined with the echoing banjo of Mumford & Sons. Jensen stands at his side, their forearms and shoulders brushing as they sway with the music. Austin City Limits is putting on a great weekend of music, and the festival is always one of the highlights of Jared’s year. The crowd screams as the first song ends, adrenaline high, and the band launches right into the next song, “Believe.” Jared, absorbed by the music, practically jumps out of his skin when Jensen’s warm hand presses onto the top of his shoulder, his mouth brushing the shell of his ear.

“Wanna smoke?”

Jared turns his head flashing Jensen a smile, momentarily getting caught up in how Jensen’s eyes sparkle in the lights flashing around them.

“Yeah.”

Jensen nods, lips quirked up into a smirk. He digs around in his front jean pocket, pulling out a joint, and waggles it at Jared with a wink. It lights up on the first try and Jared watches him, entranced, as Jensen places it between his lips and sucks in. His eyelashes flutter when he breathes out, white smoke billowing out of his mouth. He passes the joint to Jared, with a smile, loose and pliant, after his first hit. Jared takes it, placing it between his lips, shivering at the wetness on the tip leftover from Jensen’s mouth. He sucks in deep, filling his lungs and holds it in until he feels his lungs start to protest, then he releases it in a rush. He passes it back to Jensen, fingertips brushing in the process, and they take turns, trading back and forth until there’s a stub left, burned out and wet from the combined spit of their mouths.

The Mumford & Sons set ends with raucous cheers and the crowd around them starts dissipating while the crew sets up for the next performer. Jensen twines his fingers around Jared’s wrist, moving in close, hovering his mouth against Jared’s ear. “Let’s go somewhere more private, I have another one.” His hand lingers, touch full of latent intent on Jared’s skin, then he lets go for posterity’s sake, turning and pushing through the crowd.

They rented a tent on the outskirts of the large grass area for the weekend, it allowed for more privacy away from fans where they could be themselves. Both in the sense of being separated from constant surveillance for both them and Gen and Danneel. When you’re in an alternative relationship such as their polyamorous foursome and keeping it secret from the public eye, privacy is key.

Jared follows behind Jensen at an acceptable distance, heat thrumming against his pulse point where Jensen’s fingers had been a few moments ago. They run into Danneel and Gen leaving the tent. Both of their wives are giggling, fingers intertwined, with loose smiles on lipstick smeared swollen mouths. Danneel winks at Jensen as they pass, trailing her fingers seductively along his shoulder.

“Have fun,” she mouths at Jared, before giving them both a saucy wave and leaning over to kiss Gen on the cheek.

Jensen chuckles as he pushes open the tent door. Gen and Danneel know them so well. Jared ties the doors shut behind him, keeping out prying eyes. Jensen shrugs off his over shirt, and tugs the other joint out of his back pocket. Before Jensen has the chance to get his lighter out, Jared steals the joint out of his hand and lights it up himself. He rests the tip of it on his bottom lip, sucking in a good lungful, smirking as he exhales, watching Jensen’s eyes fixate on his mouth. Jensen steps forward, twining his fingers around Jared’s wrist again. Up close Jared can see his eyes clearly, his pupils so dilated, the green is lost in black. He tugs gently on Jared’s wrist, pulling him forward until the backs of his own knees hit the couch they’ve got set up in the corner of the tent.

He falls back down onto the couch, gazing up at Jared above him, and tugs gently on his wrist.

“C’mere,” Jensen urges, voice syrup thick. Jared obliges, automatically moving forward to straddle Jensen’s hips, resting his free hand on Jensen’s waist.

“Open up,” Jared whispers, bumping his nose against Jensen’s, then pulls back a few inches to take another hit. Jensen opens his pretty mouth for him, eager and waiting, and Jared’s instantly hard in his jeans. Jared lowers his mouth over Jensen’s their lips barely brushing, and exhales, flooding Jensen’s open mouth with hot smoke. Jensen sucks in and surges forward to capture Jared’s mouth in a searing kiss.

“Want some more?” Jared asks. He’s dizzy, euphoric on the pot, but more so on Jensen and his slick pink mouth.

“Yeah,” Jensen groans. Jared hands him the joint and Jensen sucks on the wet tip, moaning at the lingering taste of Jared’s mouth. Jared leans forward, sucking in Jensen’s exhale and grinds his hips down into Jensen’s. A stuttered moan leaves Jensen’s lips and he arches up into Jared, desperate for more friction.

“Jay,” Jensen groans, craning his neck forward, trying to get another taste of Jared’s mouth. “I‘m gonna come if you keep this up.”

Jared giggles, stealing the joint from Jensen’s fingertips, and a deep wet kiss from Jensen’s mouth.

“Good,” Jared murmurs, “Wanna see you come in your pants, just like a fucking teenager.”

He tightens his grip on Jensen’s hips, getting an even slow rhythm of grinding their cocks together through the stiff fabric. He toys with Jensen’s waistband, slipping his fingers beneath the band and stroking them across Jensen’s warm skin. Jensen is thick and hard against him, and Jared watches him slowly start to fall apart, going back and forth between whimpering and sucking in more pot.

Jensen’s eyes practically glaze over in lust when he holds the joint to Jared’s mouth, watching him suck in as he thrusts, hard and slow against him. Jensen takes the last drag before the joint goes out, dropping it to the ground and moving his foot to rub out the lingering spark. He’s hyper focused on Jared now, arms sliding up around his neck, pulling them closer together, so that with every circle of Jared’s hips, their cocks rub together. Jensen feels himself getting close, hips stuttering out of control, and he presses his mouth against Jared’s.

“C’mon Jen,” Jared groans, angling his hips and slowing the thrust of his hips. He leans down licking a line up Jensen’s throat, stopping right below his jaw to suck a mark into his skin. Jensen comes then, as Jared marks him up, groaning out a slurred version of Jared’s name. He continues thrusting against Jared until the aftershocks wear off. Breathing heavily, he slips his hand off Jared’s waist and palms at the front of Jared’s jeans where he’s still obviously aching hard.

“Your turn Jay,” Jensen says, rubbing the heel of his palm against Jared’s cock through his jeans and gazing up at him.

Jared bites his lip and wraps his arm around Jensen’s neck, grinding down on him. Jensen surges up and kisses him, hand still rubbing circles Jared’s against cock. They kiss lazily, as Jared gets closer, hips starting to stutter as he loses control. He whimpers into Jensen’s mouth as he comes, pressing their foreheads together and kisses him like his life is on the line and Jensen’s mouth is all the air he’ll ever need.

The aftershocks wear off and Jared leans back a little, stopping the movement of his hips, and runs loving hands down Jensen’s chest.

“Damn,” he says, smirking a little before leaning back in to press a soft kiss against Jensen’s forehead, “We need to get high like that more often.”

Jensen chuckles, moving his hands up to Jared’s shoulders and sliding a hand into his hair. “Anytime, Jay, anytime.”

Jared slides off, and plops down onto the couch next to him, wincing a little at the wetness in his boxers.

“Good thing I brought an extra set of clothes,” Jared says, standing up and moving over to where his backpack is resting, pulling a fresh pair of jeans and boxers out. He slips his dirtied clothes off, putting the clean ones on and when he turns around, Jensen is leaning back against the couch watching him appreciatively.

“See something you like?” Jared teases. Jensen smirks, getting up from the couch and walking over to him. He slips an arm around Jared’s waist and pulls him in for a sweet, lingering kiss.

“Yeah,” Jensen replies, pulling back to look at him, “I have for the past twelve years.”

Jared blushes a little ducking his head and knocking it lightly into Jensen’s. “Sap.”

“Only sometimes,” Jensen answers, smiling softly.

He bends down pulls out a new pair of jeans and boxers for himself, quickly changing out of them and tossing his ruined clothes in a pile on the ground next to Jared’s.

He smiles, reaching over to take Jared’s hand and tugs him towards the door of the tent, just as a guitar starts squealing from the stage.

“C’mon let’s get back out there.”

They only separate their hands at the last second before they step outside, matching dazed and satisfied smiles on their faces, ready to enjoy the rest of their festival filled weekend. And if they happen to stand a little too close to each other for the rest of the weekend, well, they hope no one is paying too much attention to notice.

#hi my trash self ships j2 now #j2 #nothingidputbeforeyou #fic #jared and jensen #mine

17 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 7 years

Text

I Remember You Differently (Trixya) - Chapter 4 - goth

One more high school lesbian AU for the good people of this blog. It’s the end of senior year, prom season, and Trixie thought she was finally over her crush on Katya from freshman year drama class. She was wrong. Kim is over it before it even starts.

A/N: Purely Trixya interaction, for the most part. Y'all deserve it.

Katya’s perched on the handrail leading to the restaurant, knees jutting out and legs tucked in, black jellies on the lower railing. Her fingers jitter against the metal, like she’s missing something. Trixie wants to hold her restless hands. She wants to kiss them. She wants them jittering across her skin.

Trixie doesn’t tell Katya this. Not in words, but in body language. Arms crossed tight across her chest, weight shifting foot to foot. She’s standing in front of Katya, about a foot away. It feels both like a mile and an inch apart.

She’s had girls before, and a handful of boys. It’s not virginal shyness holding her under. She thinks her problem might be its cousin: intermediately-experienced timidness. Trixie feels clueless around Katya, so fucking inept.

She pulls her arms around herself tighter.

Tonight marks the longest they’ve been around each other in years. Trixie breathes in the warm night air, steadying herself. They’re alone, in regards to other people. Cars are parked on the other side of the street, and an endless supply of cars drive past them. Trixie assumes they’re driving to other restaurants, and bars as well. It’s that time of night.

The last time she stood outside in the dark with Katya was their first date. It’s a lot to process, not adding-on and last date anymore. Prom night is going to end her.

To clear the air, it wasn’t entirely a date.

They were sophomores, then. Katya had left their high school after freshman year, enrolled in home schooling. Trixie thought that was that. She’d never talk to Katya again. She was so convinced, one night in the middle of the year, Trixie called Kim and begged she come over.

Trixie had a bit of a meltdown.

Kim saved her ass, quietly listening to her explain every interaction they had in drama class, nodding along. They sat still for a moment, on Trixie’s bedspread, before Kim flicked Trixie’s forehead. ‘She likes you, dummy,’ Kim said, rather matter-of-factly. ‘Ask her to go see a movie tomorrow.’

Again. Not entirely a date.

But she texted Katya fully intending it to be a date. After Katya said yes, Trixie danced in her room. She twirled and jumped around like an idiot. On the night of, when Trixie got back home, she threw herself across her bed, bubbling over with happiness.

Trixie remembers grinning into her pillow. They didn’t kiss or hold hands, Katya didn’t let Trixie pay for both of their popcorns, nor did either of them confess any pent-up feelings from the year before. Not quite the one of the love stories she had read in Cosmo.

Instead, they laughed like maniacs. An old married couple a few rows back even shushed them. The girls didn’t quiet down any, only laughed harder, slid further down their scratchy pleather seats. From there they talked over the movie neither of them were watching. Talked about topics like family drama, likes and dislikes, how things had changed since last year, and dreams for the future.

Katya said she wanted to design costumes. Trixie wanted to write plays. They joked about working together one day, loud mouths full of popcorn. Trixie thought it was magical. Better than any of the love stories she had read in Cosmo.

There were cues Trixie picked up. Things she noticed, one by one, when she glanced over at Katya throughout the movie:

Katya’s arm pressing against hers on the armrests; bony wrists digging into ample counterpart. Katya curled up in her seat, inclined towards her left, intruding upon Trixie’s space. Hair spilling over and mixing with Trixie’s own. Cologne mixing with Trixie’s perfume — Katya never wore cologne freshman year.

It was all needless, and Trixie’s stomach had churned at the possible implications of need. She felt a desperate tension between her and Katya that entire night. It’s building again. She can feel it. She’s been feeling it since Katya decided to reappear in her life.

Trixie doesn’t want to write plays anymore. She wonders what new dreams Katya has for herself.

Neither of the girls have said a word since Katya escorted Trixie out. It’s only been a minute or two, but time stretches out so much longer in silence. As much silence as there can be, anyway, on a busy night. A siren goes off a few streets away, but Trixie’s lost in a daze.

“P.F. Chang’s puts giant stone horses outside their restaurants in small towns.” Katya states, breaking the silence, pulling Trixie out of her stream of consciousness. “Can you imagine those here?”

Trixie takes the offering, runs with it, giggling at the imaginary scene. “I can imagine the pissed off Chicagoans. Petitioning for them to be taken down.”

Katya’s hands curl around the railing, supporting her slow bend forward. Trixie can smell the peppermint on Katya’s breath again. She can practically taste it. Trixie’s eyes trail up and down the length of Katya’s fingers, then up to the smirk on her lips.

“I’d want to mount one.”

That voice in Trixie’s head whimpers. Suggesting she say, ‘I want you to mount me.’

She’s on sensory overload: Katya’s curls, frizzing in the heat. Her red lips crooking up in one corner. Her green eyes, clear and bright under the artificial lighting. The colors make Trixie’s head swirl. Katya is like Christmas.

Trixie shrugs. “Of course you like lifeless things under your legs.” She plays with the hem of her dress, ignoring Katya’s instantaneous cackling, for her own sake. Trixie tries not to catalogue how the girl alternates between wheezes and squawks. The little breaths in-between.

She fails miserably; it’ll be what keeps her awake when she tries to sleep tonight. Trixie’s never heard a more ridiculous sound in her life.

Katya reaches out to tap Trixie’s shoulder, still laughing, and Trixie looks up. With each tap, her hand moves down goose-bump-covered skin, giggles heightening. Katya takes a breath to speak. She stole it from Trixie.

“Will you be free, Trixie? When you’re deceased?” The end of her sentence drops off. Trixie’s holding Katya’s hand. She didn’t mean to. It just felt natural, the way Katya’s was progressing towards hers.

Katya’s face is red. Again, past memories stir up within Trixie; she wants to scream. Moments ago, Katya alluded to sex with a stone horse, and here she is. Blushing, like how Trixie must be.

Trixie’s mind goes back even further. Minutes ago, Katya pressed her hand against Trixie’s lower back, guiding her, as if that’s how they’ve always been. Trixie realizes she’s holding that very hand, tips of her fingers brushing over veins. The skin is sweaty, but so is her own.

Trixie blames it all on the heat of the night.

One car drives by especially fast — how timely — giving a much needed breeze. Trixie’s free hand has to hold down her dress, and she shuts her eyes when Katya’s flick down to the movement. When she opens them, Trixie fixates on the blinking streetlamp up ahead.

She’s ready to let go, Katya’s skin is burning her alive, but Katya’s fingers squeeze down hard. Not enough to hurt — Trixie can feel the restraint. Katya could crush Trixie’s hand with ease. If desired.

She’s wet again.

Trixie holds back a whine, but she doesn’t hold back from mimicking Katya’s gesture. She’ll have to ask her friends about Katya’s metamorphosis from gangly pubescent virgin to whatever the hell she is now.

Katya clears her throat and cocks her head towards the restaurant entrance. “You said your friends wanted to meet—“ She doesn’t get to finish her sentence. Both of their heads whip around to the sound of the doors bursting open, and the sight of Adore ambling towards them.

If Trixie wasn’t aware of the short distance from Katya and her hand in her own, she would be hyper-aware, now. Katya’s grip keeps Trixie locked in place. Trixie would’ve had to fight the instinct to jump back, if not for that. The instinct of a closeted fourteen year old she’s finding herself reverting to.

Katya straightens up. It’s a merciful act, to pull back and taking the peppermint and cologne scents with her. Trixie cranes her head up to the murky black sky, saying a silent thanks.

As Adore comes closer, Katya’s jaw sets and her brow tightens. Trixie looks for a distraction and finds one in Katya’s legs gently swinging back and forth. The voice in her head screams at the contrasting image.

Adore’s soon standing next to Trixie but looks up at Katya. They look somewhat nervous, but mostly blazed out of their mind. Trixie spies a plastic baggie sticking out of their overalls. “The girls need to speak with you.”

“I’m talking to Trixie right now.” Trixie suspects Katya’s tone would be significantly cooler if the little freshman was replaced by a different friend of hers. She wonders if that was deliberate. It pisses her off, to imagine anyone taking advantage of Katya.

“Everyone’s getting upset. I don’t wanna get banned from another place. Please, Katya.”

So. This isn’t just a problem for Trixie’s friends. There’s humor to be found, somewhere. Trixie’s incapable, as every other emotion has a hold on her at the moment.

Katya sighs in defeat. She wiggles on-top of the handrail, better adjusting her position to hop off. Trixie backs up, helps her down with the hand still holding on. Trixie rolls her eyes at no-one but herself, feeling foolishly chivalrous. Adore eyes the two of them with a newfound smile.

Katya lets go when she lands. The embarrassment turns to mourning.

Trixie’s fingers flex. She’s convinced the lines of Katya’s palm are sure to be imprinted of Trixie’s own. She’s scared to check.

“Thanks,” Trixie almost doesn’t hear her over the cars driving by and the added sound of Adore smacking gum. Peppermint flavored. It must be Katya’s brand. She’s weirdly jealous of Adore for a hot second, then shakes her head to rid herself of the thought.

“I’m sorry, Trixie.” Her hand comes to Trixie’s arm, thumb rubbing a circle above her elbow. The movement is a languid rhythm, and Trixie shivers. “This’ll probably take awhile.”

Katya’s Docs make her about an inch taller, yet she has to lift her chin to make eye contact. It’s cute until it’s not; Trixie is hit with the full force of Katya’s jawline. She decides to only think about how tiny Katya has to be without her fucking boots.

Trixie bites down on her lip, concealing a grin. “I still have your number.” She stands stock-still, all she can do not to buckle at the knees. Katya’s thumbnail scratches her skin lightly. “I’ll text you.”

Katya smiles wide. “Do that.”

She disengages, thumbnail coming out of Trixie’s skin. Trixie feels cold without her touch. Katya turns around and pats Adore’s head before walking away, disappearing through the restaurant doors. Trixie’s confused as to why Adore isn’t joining her.

Every car passing by is louder now, and every light down the street is brighter. Trixie rubs the bridge of her nose. She can’t believe she’s going through fucking withdrawals with this girl.

Adore blinks at Trixie a couple times, before all-out laughing their ass off. Trixie frowns.

“What?”

“Hey,” Adore manages, regaining their breath. They reach into their back pocket with a smile. “You are nervous.”

“Your observational skills are astounding.” Trixie deadpans, crossing her arms. She watches as they laugh at her again, like they did earlier tonight.

There appears to be a problem removing the baggie from their pocket. It’s caught on something, and they mutter out a slurry of curses. Trixie doesn’t offer to help. It’s the little things in life.

After the short struggle the plastic is freed, and Trixie’s first guess is right: weed.

Much to Trixie’s surprise, after they open the bag, Adore doesn’t start another search for a lighter. But rather, they extend the blunt towards her. Adore practically pushes it against Trixie’s nose.

“Take this.”

Trixie just stares, squinting into Adore’s hazy eyes; the red lines are vibrant in the whites, and Trixie is reminded of late nights in Pearl’s smoky bedroom. She sighs, then plucks the blunt out of Adore’s fingers.

“You know,” Trixie rolls it around in her own, inspecting it under the light of the streetlamp. “I’ll probably need this later.”

#goth #i remember you differently #trixya #group fic #lesbian au #cisgirl au #trans katya #katya zamolodchikova #trixie mattel #fluff #tw drugs #tw anxiety #rpdr fanfiction #high school au #trans character

57 notes · View notes