dj wash

Dork

Beca Mitchell does not drop the ‘L’ bomb.

Not to her father, or her mother. Jeez, especially not to her step-monster. She doesn’t say it to her friends, not Amy, Stacie, or not even Jesse. 

Beca Mitchell does not use the word.

It’s in the little things, Chloe notices, that Beca shows her love. Like in the way she makes her mixes, shares them, or how the DJ always wears the redhead’s sweatshirt, yet returns it to the older woman’s closet anyway.

It’s in the little things Beca does that Chloe can see just how much love that little brunette can muster.


Chloe’s noticed for some time now that many of the little things the DJ does that show love are often pointed at the Bellas. Silently, without making a big deal out of any of it the small brunette sprinkles her love an affection on each and every one of them.

For Stacie, each time the leggy brunette came home with a guy trailing her, Beca made sure she had plenty necessities in the bathroom for before, during, and after her company.

For Amy there was always an Advil and water next to her nightstand after a wild night out, and that there was no early practice scheduled for the next morning so the hungover Aussie would be able to rest in peace.

Legacy fell asleep hunched over her books so many nights that it just sort of became habit for Beca to turn the lights off in her room, cover the youngest Bella with a blanket, and close the book she was asleep on with a bookmark in it.

It was things like those that Chloe knew just how much Beca loved her Bella family, and showed her affection in the smallest of ways.

Whenever Chloe asked the young DJ to brew a cup of tea, full well knowing that her favorite yellow cup was dirty in the sink, the DJ would wash the cup before brewing the beverage for her redheaded co-captain.

It was just little things.


“You washed my cup,” Chloe said as Beca handed her the cup and curled into the couch of the empty Bella house next to the redhead.

“I did,” Beca smiled, grabbing some blanket and covering the two of them.

“And you’re in my sweatshirt,” Chloe set her drink down on the end table, grabbing at the fabric with her fingers.

“That’s true,” Beca said, her eyes looking right into the redhead’s.

“You don’t let anyone hear your mixes until they’re done, except me,” Chloe mumbled a little quieter this time.

“Uh huh,” the DJ nodded.

“You’re sweet,” Chloe smiled.

“You’re a dork,” Beca said.

And it was another mannerism. Another Beca idiosyncrasy. An oddity, a peculiarity. It was how Beca talked. It was how she said that ‘L’ bomb.

“I love you too,” Chloe said, snuggling back into the DJ.

“I… you know I don’t say that,” Beca looked at the girl who was nuzzled into her side.

“I know. But it doesn’t mean you don’t mean that. You wear my hoodie. And wash my cup. You let me hear your mixes,” she paused and grabbed the DJ’s hands, “you don’t have to say it, Beca.”

“I want to,” Beca sat up, “I want to say it.”

“Oh.”

“Chloe I… I don’t know how to put my feelings into words but I guess I’ll try?” Beca looked at their hands. “You’re my best friend and I… I have such a thing for you. Chloe I’ve been fighting this for long enough okay? I… crap. I love you.”

Chloe burst into laughter, reddening Beca’s cheeks.

“I love you too, Dork,” the redhead grabbed Beca’s cheeks and brought her in for a sweet kiss.

tuckington night club au where wash gets dragged out by north and york, who eventually leave him to go dance with some girls, even though they promised they wouldn’t. so wash is sat there by himself, angrily sipping the fruitiest, most flamboyant drink they had on the menu through a curly straw. then the dj, who wash may or may not have been glancing at says something before playing his last song

“this one is dedicated to the grumpy dude sat in the corner. you’re pretty cute though, so come talk to me or something.”

and wash is blushing like mad and kind of annoyed but he talks to tucker anyway and well

the night wasn’t as bad as he thought it would turn out to be

“Wait.  So, you’re telling me that you were raised by the Black Widow.”

“There were other- People there?  But Nat was there, yes.”

“You are being dense.”

“That happens a lot.  It’s not deliberate.”

“I know, I work with engineers.  But again.  The Black Widow was your formative female influence.”

“Yes.  Well, sometimes.  I know other females.”

“Okay…”

“Pepper, and Sue, and Ororo and Rogue and Jean and Agent Hill and-”

“So pretty much women in spandex, leather catsuits, and SHIELD uniforms.”

He thought about that.  "Yes?“ he said, not sure why it mattered.

She patted him on the back, her face sympathetic.  "You are never seeing me naked.”

DJ considered that.  "That’s really disappointing,“ he said at last.  "I mean, I am surprised by how depressed I am by that.”  He blinked at her.  "Really?“

She cupped his shoulders between her hands.  "Not.  Ever.”

lets dance

Summary: Tuckington nightclub au. Tucker as the DJ, and Wash as the pitiful friend who always gets dragged along to the nightclub, Errera.

based on this post

Errera’s neon lit sign flickered once as York, Wash, and North walked past the glass doors. The dance floor was packed with people, dancing to the loud music. Waiters moved through the crowd, serving drinks to those sitting at tables.

Keep reading