#took me nearly a month to work up the courage to post rip time to bug out

[hai-nae]

just vibin'

#the vibe: 25 cent temp tattoos ig??? bc thats what i think when i look at his sleeve tbh #one of these was gonna be spicy but i self checked myself #simon ghost riley #cod ghost #cod #cod modern warfare #call of duty #my art #at no point was there a thought in my head for what i was doing and it shows just chasin a then nameless vibe #sorry i just got here idk what im doin #give me a character built like that? expect me to behave??? with a face i can do w/e with? bet. #only simon for now my gaz n soap ones are still cooking #took me nearly a month to work up the courage to post rip time to bug out #mw

[hobbitsnapes]

E-girls are ruining vinnies life

Vinnie Hacker x Reader

Warnings: smut, +18, NSFW, kinky sex

A/N: this is my first vinnie writing, and my second smut. Please go easy on me (unlike vinnie...)

Never in his life did he think this would happen. In the short time he’s been on social media, he’s kept his relationship life private. Fearing the criticism the pore girl would inevitably get. He had seen it countless times to his friends, as soon as they’d announce they had found someone, instant hateful words would flood not only their comments, but their partners. He swore he wouldn’t ever outright publicly show his girlfriend, or announce that he was finally taken. That was, until he met her.

Surprisingly, very little hate or criticism came for them when he announced it that fateful day.

He had posted just a short video, a few seconds of him laying down, with her head resting in his neck. Her face being hidden by her hair. He had posted it to his second account, testing the waters there rather than his main account.

After a few days, and many people speculating, asking who she was, some trying to figure it out, even some claiming it was someone, when it never was. Even some claiming they weren’t dating, just friends. He never responded to any of the questions or comments.

Days had passed, with relatively good reactions to it, they both decided to take it to the next step, by officially posting it to his main account, outing them completely to the world.

He had decided to use the yellow trend to do it, thinking it would be a perfect trend for the purpose.

The first few pictures were of his friends, some from shoots they did, to some when they went skating, to just candid pictures. But after about 3 pictures with his friends, came a photo of her. She was sitting in the grass, a lone dandelion in her hand as she smiled shyly for the photo. Next was a photo of them standing in front of the mirror, she was in front, with his arm securely around her. Next was them standing in the same mirror, only he was dipping her slightly as he bent down to kiss her. A few more pictures of them flashed in the video, ending with a small video he took the night prior. They layer in bed, faces being only lit by the brightness of the phone as he laid on top of her. Their lips only centimeters apart, as he whispered I love you. Both smiling as he leans in, connecting their lips as the video ends.

Love was flooding his comments, so many saying how beautiful she was, saying how happy he looked, and how happy they were for him.

The other side, was people asking who she was, nobody being able to figure it out.

That was due to the fact that, they wouldn’t be able to find out. Because in the world of social media, she didn’t exist.

Early on she told him she wasn’t a social media person. She never had an Instagram, a Facebook, Twitter, nothing but a YouTube account that she’d never post on. Only there to watch videos and play music.

They met by pure luck, at the skatepark. She was sitting by herself, reading a book that engrossed her. She didn’t notice his eyes trainer on her the entire time, fully captivated by the pages.

He finally built up the courage, and being pushed by his friends, to go sit with her.

He was a nervous wreck, barley being able to compose himself enough to say hello and his name.

She thought it was cute, how he stumbled over his words when he talked to her. It was endearing, seeing just how flustered the very attractive man was.

To this day he wonders how he didn’t screw up. But he hadn’t, getting her number an hour after talking. Promising to take her out that weekend. And the rest, was history for them.

Over the next few weeks, he would randomly post a video of them together, usually on his second account. They both would sit and laugh at some of the comments, finding it Hilarious how crazy people were getting at trying to figure out who she was. Some came to the conclusion that she didn’t have any, with most begging her to make one.

It had been a relatively uneventful day, some might even call it boring.

Vinnie had been out most of the day, informing her of the plans he had with some of his friends. Promising her to be home that night, sealing his promise with a chaste kiss to her lips as he ran out the door, her heart thumping in her chest as he walked away.

She laid on their shared bed, her legs bare as they rubbed against the soft blanket.

Only odorning a black tee shirt that covered her panties, barely shielding her from the cold outside. Thanking the heavens for the hearing system as she laid there, contemplating.

Agoraphobic played in the speakers as she laid there, drowning out any and all noise. She had grown a strong liking to the artist corpse, finding herself playing his music or humming the lyrics through the day. Vinnie would sometimes make fun of her, saying that she loved him more than her own boyfriend. She would scoff, kissing his plump lips, reminding him the love she had for the curly headed boy.

The song finally ending, changing to the next in her playlist. A smile disarming at her lips when she heard it. While agoraphobic was her favorite, there was just something special when she’s hear e girls are ruining my life. Vinnie would joke that this song was meant for her, how it reminded him of her each time he heard the lyrics.

She held her phone to her chest, looking up at the bright led lights above her. ‘Fuck it’ she thought, pulling her phone from her chest, going to the App Store, and downloading the one app she swore she’d never use.

One video she thought, just one. She looked at his videos first, reading a few of the contents, her heart thumping in her chest. An outcry of people asking him to have her make an account, some even begging him.

It wasn’t that she hated social media, it was just it had never crossed her mind as something she wanted to get into. She knew how popular vinnie and his friends were, having seen them when he would show her. She had especially been worried about making one when she first started dating him, fearing someone would find out and out them before they were ready.

She was even more fearful in a way when they announced it, fearing the ridicule she would face if she made one. But the amount of love people were showering both them and her in each of the videos, made her heart soar in her chest. Finally making her decision, she got to work.

His phone was vibrating in his pocket, confusion filling him. It wasn’t a phone call, no, it was notifications going off.

He pulled his phone out, seeing a plethora of tags from his friends flash over the screen. His brows knitted together in confusion, not understanding what was going on. Why was he being tagged and sent this one tiktok?

He got his answer when he opened a link sent by Jordan. He red the text from him, even more confused when he did. ‘You have to see this.’ The text red, seeing a link sent right after.

Shock filled him when he watched it, questions filling his mind as he sat there, eyes glued to the screen.

It was a video posted by his girlfriend, from her own account. It was simple really, well, that’s a bad word for it.

She sat on the floor, leaning against their shared bed. A mirror proper in front of her, showing her and their empty bed.

He had the mirror installed in front of the bed a month prior, contemplating on having it placed above the bed.

It was a surprise for her, having it done the day of their 5 month anniversary. Worry filled him that she wouldn’t like it or find it weird, but he was proven wrong that same night. It was one of the greatest nights they had, finding every way to fuck in front of it, their pleasure heightened with being able to watch as they both came undone.

Since then, they used it every time. Being able to sit in front of it, with her facing it as he makes her watch as he slams into her, loving being able to pull her hair back as moans slip from her lips as he makes eye contact through the mirror.

She sat on the floor, only wearing one of his black shirts, barely covering her clothes core. She was sitting there, a chuckle making its way out of him when he heard the song. He knew if she ever made an acount or video, she would use one of corpses songs. She loves his music, barely being able to deny the fact due to how much she’d listen to him. E girls he knew was one of her favorites, finding her humping the lyrics on the daily when she’s being going the most mundane things.

His eyes bulged out of his head when he looked behind her, his heart thumping in his chest even worse. His cock throbbing in his pants when he saw it.

There in the background, was a pair of handcuffs secured on their headboard.

Having used them only the night before, his cock grew almost painful Ashe thought of the memories.

The sounds of her moans ripping out from her as she tried pulling free her hands as he rocked harshly into her played in his mind. Making it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything beside her and the memories. And the thought of what was to come when he got home.

His heart pounded in his chest when he looked at the comments, one sticking out. People had caught on to the handcuffs, not many, but the numbers were rising. But one comment, had one reply. ‘ARE THOSE HANDCUFFS I SEE 👀’ it red, being highlighted by being liked by the creator, with a reply by creator. ‘Like my bracelets? 😊’

His footsteps echoed throughout the large home, barley being able to hear them due to his heart pounding in his ears. He could feel the blood coursing through him as he bears his door, hearing nothing from the other side.

He opens up the door, instantly his eyes trained on her like a hawk. There she laid on their bed, again, only clad in his shirt.

Her eyes met his, a smile forming on her face. “Hey lovey.” She chirped, getting up from their bed, a pep in her step as she neared him.

She got up on her toes to reach him, him bending his head down, connecting their lips in a sweet kiss. She could feel the need in his lips as he wrapped his arms around her torso, feeling him tighten his grip ever so slightly.

He opens his mouth slightly, darting his tongue out, licking her lip lightly. Her granting him access as they stood there in each other’s arms. She pulled away with a chuckle. “What’s gotten into you?” She asked, a teasing smile on her face. “Take a wild guess.” He grunted, crashing his lips to hers again. She pulled away again, chuckling at his grunt of frustration when she did. “I don’t know? Tell me?” She teased, making his grip on her tighten even harder. “Maybe, it has something to do with that little video you posted. Maybe it might also have to do with the fact that you hadn’t hid those handcuffs. Now everyone will know.” He grunted, tightening his arms even harder around her.

She could feel his cock pressing hard against her stomach, excitement growing inside her.

He leaned in to crash his lips with hers again, but she out her hand in the way before he could. He looked at her questionly, making her chuckle. “Before we do anything. I need your help with another video.”

It took every ounce of sheer willpower for him not to bend her over and fuck her right there when they recorded it. His cock throbbing even worse the longer it took. But in the end, even he had to admit, it was worth it.

Same song as her last one, only this time, the video was entirely different.

She had the camera facing her side profile, her facing him and not the camera. Him discreetly out of the frame.

As the lyrics started, he reached his hand up, grabbing her by the throat as she lip synced the lyrics, his hand having a firm hold on her delicate neck. As the song continued, he moved his hand up, pulling her bottom lip out, sticking his thumb between her reddened plum lips.

She gave a simple caption, one they knew would make everyone who watched it go insane. ‘The other version.’

A groan rips from the back of his throat, her hands tangling in his curls harshly. Their tongues battled as they pant, neither one wanting to pull away from one another.

His hands held tightly to her thighs, gripping the soft flesh as a moan rips out of her. His rings axing to the sensation as she pulls his hair even harder.

He pulls his lips from hers, letting out a chuckle when she chased his lips momentarily. He duped his head down into her neck, running his lips along the skin, until he felt her legs wrap around him as a moan slips past her lips. He starts sucking harshly on her skin, feeling her trembling under him.

He widens her legs, looking down between them, letting out a grunt. He can see the wetness through her panties, nearly smelling her desire. He pulled them down her legs, watching in amazement when she opened up her legs to him. He had seen her naked plenty of times, but it still caught his breath every time he saw her core.

He went back to her neck, sucking on the bruised skin. He ran his hand down her thigh, feeling her tremble as small whines slipped past her lips.

He pulled his head from her neck, hovering his lips just enough over hers. A smile broke out on his face as his fingers finally met her core, a large moan breaking through her.

His fingers rut harshly through her velvety walls, making her yell out. His cock throbbed in his pants as her core sucked his fingers inside of her, making him want to replace his hand with his painfully hard cock.

She can hardly breathe as his fingers hardly pound inside of her, waves of pure bliss engulfing her at the feel. His rings adding a level of chill, making her shake as he speeds up.

He dips his head back into her neck as he bites her skin, rutting his hips into the mattress to relieve some of the pain.

As if it couldn’t get better, she feels him thrust his fingers even faster, making her jump when he hits that one spot. It’s been his mission, every time they had sex, he had to hit it each time. Whether it was with his cock or hands, he had to.

He feels her walls tightening as her moans grow louder, feeling her walls quiver slightly. He speeds his hands up, adding his thumb to rub her clit harshly, making her cry out. “Yeah that’s right, such a good girl.” He whispers, making her cry out. “God I love how your walls just squeeze my fingers, wishing it was my cock. Wouldn’t you love that? To feel my cock pound inside of you? To have it suck me dry as I make it mine forever?” “Yes! Please!” She yells out, making him chuckle. “Then cum for me sweet girl.”

A large groan breaks out of him when she lets out a yell, thrashing around as he feels her release, feeling her core tightened and suck his fingers inside of her even more. A cry breaking past her lips as it all grows too much.

She pulls his pants from him, eagerly trying to rip them from his body.

They both lay naked, chests flushed together. He feels his heart hammer against his chest, feeling hers beat in the same rhythm.

A groan slips past his lips as her hands glide along his shaft, making his arms shake as pleasure courses through him.

He grabs his cock in his hands, lining himself up to her entrance. A hiss breaking past him as his painfully hard head slips between her lips, the wetness of her core nearly making him explode.

He lays his forehead on hers, both taking in a deep breath as he eases himself inside her. They both shudder in a breath as he enters her, both shaking as his cock slides inside her. “Fuck I love your pussy baby.” He groans out, kissing her sloppily. He momentarily doesn’t move, stealing his breath.

He did this every time, always giving her a couple of seconds to get used to the feeling of his cock stretching her. Always easing into it slowly, rocking his hips at a slow place, gradually increasing his speed of his thrusts.

He wasn’t much of a speed guy, he always would go slowly but hard, not growing in speed till they both neared the edge.

He pulled out slowly, slamming himself back in hardly, moving her and the bed back as a cry rips out of her. He feels her walls close tightly around him as he thrusts inside of her, making him groan out. She pulls his hair harshly, pulling his head back as he hisses out. Making him slam into her harder.

They both can’t help but yell out as time passes, making it nearly impossible to stay quiet. His cock slamming into her harder, a cry ripping out of him when her nails take down his back. Making him arch into her. His hand slips from her thighs to her neck, pushing on the sides as she struggles for air.

Their lips collide in a sloppy kiss as his thrusts speed up, his hair sweaty and dangling in her face.

Knots grow in their stomachs as they feel their release approach, making him speed his trusts more. “I-I wanna cum. Please vin, fuck please.” She moans out, making him grip her hip even harder. He bends his head back into her neck, biting the skin harshly as his thrusts grow sloppy. “Hold it.” He grunts into her ear, making her cry out as she tries to ward off the impending orgasm.

He feels her wetness seeping down his thighs as he slammed even harder, making her cry out as she shakes, trying her hardest not to cum. “Fuck vinnie I can’t, fuck please I can’t.” She sobs out, tears streaming down her face as she shakes, using every last strength inside her to hold it. She feels it breaking as it approaches, nearly breaking as tears stream from her eyes. He gowns out in her neck, feeling her walls tighten and shake as he tries holding on. “Cum for me.” He groans out, a groan breaking through him as she screams out. Wave of pure Ecstasy take over her body as she squeezes him inside her, making her cry out as she violently thrashes.

He can’t hold it any longer, feeling himself break as he yells out a deep groan as he cumsinside her, making both shake as her walls suck out every drop he lets out, making him shake as waves of white hot pleasure rake over one another.

They both lay there, his arms giving out as they shake. Their arms grabbing onto one another as they try calming the aftershocks of their orgasms. He uses all his strength to lean up, connecting their lips as they pant.

Feeling themselves sink into the soft mattress, they both lay on their sides, his clock still buried inside her, making both their eyes grow heavy. Before they fall into a deep slumber, they connect their lips.

#vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie #tiktok #imagines #smut

[karajaynetoday]

i'll be honest, it's better off this way | luke hemmings

image credit 

hello pals! long time no writing! i know it seems a bit weird to post a luke break up fic just after he got engaged but to be fair, I already had this in the works before the news broke yesterday, so soz not soz. It is kind of a happy break up story though... kind of? this one features lyrics from our song by niall and anne marie that are in italics throughout the piece (you know i love a song lyric incorporation lol) and i’m a bit rusty, so any feedback is welcome! a big shoutout to my dearest @notinthesameguey​ for beta-reading this one for me, you’re a gem blanca! enjoy xo

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings:  mentions of a break up and a car accident/hospitalisation (minor/non-graphic)

(This is a fem reader insert)

More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here

I'll be honest, I'm alright with me

Sunday mornings, in my own bedsheets

The break up with Luke had been easier than you’d first thought. It’d been months of growing apart, feeling like a stranger in your own home, before you finally worked up the nerve to utter those four words: We need to talk. He’d been spending most days and some nights in the studio, and you’d been working overtime at your job too; you were ships in the night who barely had time to say hello and goodbye, let alone have any sort of proper conversation. You’d spent an entire evening rehearsing a script in your head, and as soon as Luke walked through the door and greeted Petunia, you mustered the courage to stand up and speak your truth. 

It turned out that you weren’t alone in feeling stagnant in your relationship, and although you could feel your heart breaking as you said the words, Luke’s hand on your knee was all the gentle reassurance you needed. Just like always, even when your relationship was falling apart, Luke was there for you. And that’s what he promised, that night in the living room. It didn’t make sense for you two to become strangers overnight after 3 years together, but you also both knew that you needed space to grow and heal, and that space needed to happen sooner rather than later. 

You could tell that part of Luke wanted to fight it, wanted to raise his voice, wanted to convince you to stay. But part of Luke also knew that it was time to walk away, no matter how much his heart was feeling like it was being ripped out of his chest, because he did truly love you, and if he loved you, he’d let you go. 

Even though Luke insisted you could stay in the spare room for as long as you liked, it only took a week or so to find a new place. An apartment in KayKay’s building opened up for rent, and thanks to her help, you secured the lease and started moving in as soon as you could. Ashton accompanied you to Ikea and then helped with assembling a new bed and dining table for you, while KayKay helped unpack some of your boxes. You could tell that they were trying to be sensitive, but at the same time were desperate to know what went down in the break up, and after a few slices of pizza and half a bottle of wine, you felt the emotions rushing to the surface.

“It feels dumb to get upset, after all, I was the one who suggested we should break up.” You sniffled, smiling sadly as Ashton handed you a tissue.

“Just because it was something that needed to happen, doesn’t mean you can’t be sad about it. You two shared a lot in the time you were together, it’s only natural that it’s going to take you a while to untangle yourselves from one another and to get your head and heart back on the path that’s right for you.” KayKay spoke softly, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

You knew she was right, and the healing would come; it was all part of the rollercoaster of walking away from someone you thought was the love of your life, but had turned out not to be. Time to adjust and find some independence, and re-shape the life you found yourself in until it was the life you wanted. 

But every time I think that I can get you out my head, you never, ever let me forget

Once you’d completely moved out Luke’s house, your reasons to contact him became few and far between. A few occasional texts to advise that he’d let his family know about your split, and a link to a new cafe nearby that he thought was your kind of vibe (and it absolutely was). Everyone in your friendship group was trying their best to help you both cope, but it was hard to avoid the awkwardness that came with a break up of close friends.  

You felt like you were walking on eggshells for a while, so you started to say no to invitations out. You threw yourself into a new work project, and barely replied to any group chats. Whenever your friends called, you had the perfect script rehearsed, about how you were going to be up for promotion, and after the next month or so, you’d have plenty more time for catching up with everyone. You were fairly certain that no-one believed your story, but you were sticking to it nonetheless. You’d seen photos online of Luke out and about with various beautiful women amongst the partying crew, and even though you knew better than to torture yourself with doom-scrolling through the internet, you couldn’t help yourself. You had to keep reminding yourself that it was YOU that wanted the breakup, and that it was for the best. Or something like that.

It was coming to the end of your big project, and the entire office decided to head out for celebratory drinks. You only stayed for a couple, because after a month of overtime you were ready for bed. Your boss took you aside to assure you that the promotion was yours and the new contract would be on your desk on Monday, and as you reassured him you were excited to take on the role, a song playing over the bar’s speakers made you stop in your tracks. You’d spent many a Sunday morning dancing around the kitchen making pancakes with Luke and singing these words; something you’d completely forgotten until this moment. As you stepped outside to await your Uber, the first person you wanted to call with the news was Luke. Your fingers hovered over his name for a good few minutes before your Uber driver honked and broke you out of her trance, and you settled for texting the group chat instead to share your exciting update. Lots of confetti and heart eyes emojis started popping up alongside congratulatory messages, and you let out a giggle when you saw that Luke had sent a photo of Petunia with “congrats!” scrawled across it in purple font. It was the last thing you remembered, before the squealing of tyres and your vision going black. 

Just when I think you're gone, Hear our song on the radio

Just like that, takes me back, To the places we used to go

The rhythmic beeping of the hospital monitors was the first thing you noticed as you stirred awake. The second was a dull pain across your skull, and the third was that your arm was in a sling. Fourth was the large, warm hand that was holding your own and gently squeezing; without opening your eyes, you knew it was Luke’s. You felt too weak to say any words, so instead you tried your best to squeeze back as you slowly opened your eyes. You heard a sharp intake of breath, before Luke’s smiling face came into view.

“Hey there, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” Luke asked, reaching up to gently brush some hair out of your eyes.

“Like I was in a car accident.” You managed to croak out, shooting him a wry smile and earning a laugh in return.

“You are correct, you can pass go, and collect $200. A pretty gnarly accident, the car’s a write-off, but thankfully everyone’s injuries are relatively minor. Some dickhead ran a red light.” You could tell Luke was trying to remain calm, but under the surface he was pissed.

“Not ideal, but at least I get a few days off work.” You joked, grimacing as you tried to sit up. Luke stood and gently maneuvered your pillows to support your back and shoulders better, and you felt a zap of electricity as his hands brushed your arms in passing.

As Luke sat back in the chair next to the bed, you suddenly realised that it was just the two of you in the hospital room. 

“No offence, Hemmo, but what are you doing here? Considering we’re no longer significant others, and all…” You said awkwardly, looking down at your arm sling with sudden great interest.

“Very observant, dear. Glad to see the concussion hasn’t affected your short term memory, I was worried you’d forget me entirely. You did, however, forget to update your emergency contact details, so I guess I was first on the list for the hospital to call. Ash, KayKay and I have been taking shifts but they’re out getting food right now - “ The rest of Luke’s explanation was cut off by a gasp and a cheer at the door, signalling Ashton and KayKay’s return and subsequent delight at you being awake.

The days that followed were uncomfortable physically, but kind of heartwarming emotionally. You got home to your apartment thanks to KayKay’s assistance, and found that your friends had stocked your fridge and freezer full of ready-made meals and your favourite snacks. They’d also made a roster so not a day went by without someone popping in to check on you, although you noticed that Luke never came by. 

Your recovery was slow but steady, and soon enough the doctors gave you the all clear. At this point, it was nearly 6 months since you’d broken up with Luke, and you could feel your mindset shifting. He was no longer the first person you wanted to call with good or bad news, or the first memories that popped into your head when you needed cheering up. It almost felt like… relief? Because for the longest time, even though you knew the break up was for the best, detaching yourself from one another seemed almost in possible after so many years of so many memories. 

I've been waking up alone, I haven't thought of him for days

I'll be honest, It's better off this way

The tipping point came at Calum’s birthday party, a month or so later. Ashton had invited you out for coffee and nonchalantly mentioned that maybe, possibly, well actually extremely likely almost definitely Luke was bringing a date to the gathering at Cal’s house; a girl he’d been seeing for a month or so. Everyone wanted you to be comfortable, and everyone, Cal especially, wanted you to be there, but they also understood if you wanted to avoid any potential awkward encounters with Luke and his new love interest. You assured Ashton that it would be fine, that you honestly weren’t bothered, and laughed off his suggestion of setting you up with a super hot blind date to help level the playing field.

The night came along, and you found yourself stumbling along Calum’s front path in the dark as you tried not to drop the gift you’d bought for him (a new cookbook and a collection of various hot sauces).  “Bloody 5sos and the “no good party starts until 11pm rule”, you muttered to yourself as you almost tripped over again, and you heard an indignant shout that sounded very Ashton-like behind you.

“Oi! Don’t be mad at us, you know that rule has never let us down!” Ashton bellowed, as he came forward with his phone flashlight switched on, KayKay not too far behind him.

“Damn girl, you like fiiiiiine!” KayKay said, letting out a low whistle. You rolled your eyes, knowing she was exaggerating. Your outfit was essentially a denim skirt and a t-shirt - maybe you’d sexed it up a little bit with some thigh high boots, tousled hair and a red lip, but all’s fair in love and war, right?

The three of you made it inside, and a very tipsy Calum greeted you with open arms and a lot of excitement at your gift of hot sauce. It felt so nice to be back with all your friends at a house party, like the old days, and you found yourself stepping out onto the back patio for a moment of quiet reflection and to share some pats with Duke.

You’d exchanged a wave with Luke when you’d entered the house, but hadn’t quite worked up the confidence to go up and speak to him, especially when he had his new girl in close proximity. She looked really friendly, though, and you could tell from the spark in both of their eyes that their relationship was blossoming in the best possible way. Part of you thought you’d be upset about it, but all you truly felt was content. Content in your life as it was, surrounded by friends that loved you just as much as you loved them, and actually quite proud of how far you’d come over the past year. You’d learned to stand on your own two feet, and you’d grown into a much more settled, independent human as a result. 

You were lost in your train of thought when you heard the song change on the speakers inside. Duke’s ears perked up and he licked your hand attentively when you stopped patting him as the song registered - it was your song. Or at least, it used to be. You felt a smile creep onto your face when you remembered the Sunday mornings of pancakes and singalongs, and the smile grew wider when you saw Luke’s girlfriend dragging him onto the dancefloor, much to his (fake) protests. You made eye contact with your kind-hearted, softly-smiling, gentle-eyed ex-boyfriend, and for a split second you saw a flash of concern cross his face. In response, you raised your glass in a cheers and shot him a wink, which earned a smile and a small laugh from Luke before he turned his attention back to the beautiful girl in his arms. You took a sip, and smiled to yourself. It truly was better off this way. 

When I hear it, I just can't stop smiling, I remember you're gone

Baby, it's just a song on the radio, That we used to know

Taglist: If there’s a line through your name, I couldn’t tag you, so please message me to let me know your new URL or what the go is!   @suchalonelysunflower @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @loveroflrh @spicycal @notinthesameguey @metalandboybands @cheekysos @ashton-trash  @another-lonely-heart @queenalienscherrypie  @becihadshawn  @allthestarsandthemoon  @oyesmendes​ @andrianawinchester @333-xx  @findingliam-o @hoodhoran @rbforsmileycal @myloverboyash @myhappylittleyoutubee @saywhatnow07 @secretsicanthideanymore @ar1analara  @killmywildflower​

#my writing #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings one shot #luke hemmings fan fiction #5sos one shot #5sos imagine #5sos fanfiction #lol how do i even write things anymore #i feel VERY rusty #but alas #hopefully it's okay #lmk what you think!

[calamitykaty]

A Twist of Fate

Charlie x Fem! Reader

Word count:7670

Warnings: Slight Swearing, I think that’s it?

Requested: Sorta? It’s a multi writer topic by @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic​ revolving around the idea of y/n finding an ad to rent a date for Thanksgiving. *You can find the first writers fic HERE

A/N: HUGE thank you to @dream-a-little-bigger-x​ for reading every rough draft of this that I sent her, along with bouncing ideas with me! Also a huge thank you to @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic​ for supporting me when I got stuck and reading my super rough draft! 

I wasn’t gonna post this until tomorrow but now I have a Christmas Reggie fic that I want to post tomorrow so...Happy Reading.

 Y/N wrapped the buffalo plaid scarf around her neck and pulled her favorite slouchy red beanie over her thick mop of curls. Her cellphone was pressed between her right shoulder and ear as she buttoned up her navy peacoat and half-listened to her mom rattle off the preparations she needed to make for Thanksgiving.

“Mom, I really need to…” Y/N attempted to interject only to be cut off by her mother. She placed the phone on speaker and set it down on the counter while she slipped her feet into a pair of black boots. She had stopped listening to her mother’s droning voice nearly a half-hour beforehand, but her ears perked up when her mother asked the dreaded question.

“Are you bringing Noah this year honey? I know you guys like to alternate holidays with his family, but your Aunt Martha is going to make it this year and she is just tickled to finally get to meet him.”

Y/N pursed her lips and ran a hand over her face, she hadn’t told anyone that Noah broke things off with her two months prior. She hadn’t meant to keep it a secret for so long, but her mom loved Noah and she just knew she would blame her for ruining a good thing. She had been dating Noah for three years and it was perfect until Noah started talking about marriage and Y/N began to realize that she couldn’t picture her entire life with him. Noah felt like a moment in time to her, not an eternity. 

“I’ll have to check, Mom, I don’t know what Noah is doing yet.” Y/N settled on a half-truth to buy herself some time. She placed her elbows on the edge of the counter and rested her head in her hands.

“Honey, I need to know by the end of the week, okay?”

She could hear the irritation in her mother's voice at the non-answer that Y/N had given to her. Her mother was a meticulous planner and she could not stand curve balls making a mess of her perfect holiday plans. Her mother treated every holiday as if the editors of Better Homes & Gardens were going to drop in at any moment and do a two-page spread on her decor and perfect meal. 

“Got it, mom! I have to go!” Y/N quickly ended the phone call and shoved her phone into her pocket. She huffed out a heavy sigh and made her way to her front door, grabbing her keys from the catch-all bowl on the table next to the door. She quickly locked up her apartment and rushed down the two flights of stairs to the small community lobby. She adjusted the scarf around her neck and reached for the door but stopped as a new flyer on the community board caught her eye. She took a step back and ripped the paper from the thumbtack that held it to the cork board and shoved it into her coat pocket before pulling the door open. 

Her hair whipped around her face as she stepped outside and was met with the cool autumn breeze that had settled in over the last month. Y/N looked both ways before stepping off of the sidewalk and hurrying across the street where her best friend, Leigha, was already waiting for her inside the small corner cafe. 

“How is it that I have to drive from the other side of town and can make it on time but you literally live across the street and can’t?” Leigha teased as Y/N unraveled her scarf and took her coat off, draping both over the back of her chair before sitting down. 

“Sorry! Sorry! My mother…” Y/N rolled her eyes as she recalled the phone call.

“Enough said!” Leigha laughed, she had one of those laughs that turned heads. Her laugh was always a little too loud and sometimes she would snort, it always caused Y/N to break into a fit of giggles. Leigha had been Y/N’s roommate all the way through college and they had been inseparable since the very first day they had met. 

“So,” Leigha crossed her arms on top of the table,” did you work up the courage to tell her about Noah?”

Y/N shifted her gaze across the cafe and bit her lip “not exactly…” 

“You are unbelievable, y/n ” Leigha sighed, exasperated.  

Y/N snapped her eyes back to Leigha and held her hands up in defense “I tried! Well...I mean…I tried to try…” 

“You know if you show up stag and your mother already has a place setting for a plus one, you might as well just go ahead and bury yourself, honestly” Leigha tutted. 

“That’s why I have a plan!”  Y/N turned around and rustled through the pockets of her peacoat before placing the crumpled flyer on the table. She smoothed her hands over the paper and pushed it towards the middle of the table. 

Leigha snatched the paper up as the waitress came over and took their orders, Leigha ordered a blueberry scone with a chai tea while Y/N ordered a croissant with a side of strawberry preserves and a coffee.

“I mean…” Leigha read over the paper before sliding it back over to Y/N, “you’ve got nothing to lose.”

Y/N bit her lip and stared down at the flyer, re-reading it for the fourth time before she pulled out her phone and scanned the QR code to bring up the app. 

“I can’t believe I am actually this desperate to try to literally purchase a date a week before Thanksgiving.” She muttered as she began to fill out her profile. 

“Wait! Thanksgiving is next week? As in a week from today? I haven’t even made my Thanksgiving Pinterest board yet!” Leigha panicked and grabbed her face.

Y/N looked up from her phone and shook her head at Leigha’s antics “why do you need a Pinterest board? You literally do the same thing every single year.” 

“Yeah…” Leigha jutted her bottom lip out in a pout, “but I want people to think that I am making all of these intricate and super cute appetizers and stuff. It’s the illusion that I care about!” 

Y/N looked up and thanked the waitress as she set the food and coffee down in front of her before turning her attention back to Leigha who was eagerly biting into her scone. 

“Help me answer these?” She passed her phone over to the girl and picked up the knife, spreading the strawberry preserves onto her croissant. 

“Beach or Mountains?” Leigha readout with her mouth half full. 

“Mountains!” Both girls yelled out at the same time and burst into giggles. They continued down the row of questions, passing the phone back and forth until Y/N finally hit the submit button. Leigha practically yanked the phone from Y/N’s hand as the algorithm began to shoot out potential matches. Her thumb scrolled through the pictures at lighting speed before she stopped and slowly scrolled back up before thrusting the phone in Y/N’s face. 

“This one! Oh my god, this one! And if you don’t select the platinum package so that boy can say he loves you then I will literally never speak to you again!” 

Y/N wiped the jam from her chin and grabbed the phone from Leigha. He was cute, there was no doubt about that but unlike Leigha, she cared about what his profile said about him. She scrolled through his pictures, one of him playing guitar, one hiking, one surrounded by friends around a campfire. Lover of nature, endless adventure, campfire songs, and sharing the love with my friends. I’ll jump if you jump, let’s take this plunge together? 

She felt her lips curl up into a soft smile as she whispered his name to herself, liking the way that it rolled so easily off of her tongue. 

“I told yooouuuu!” Leigha sang out and crossed her arms over her chest, a smug look on her face. 

Y/N placed the phone on the table and tried to control the blush that she could fill rising to her cheeks, “calm down,” she rolled her eyes, “I’m paying for a Thanksgiving date, not falling in love.” She selected the platinum option and typed in her credit card number before clicking the purchase open without a second hesitation. 

“I better be your maid of honor!” Leigha teased as the two girls dropped the appropriate amount of money onto the table and began to layer their coats and scarves back on. Y/N pulled the girl into a hug and placed a kiss on her cheek before heading back across the street towards her apartment.

 She had just placed the keys back into her catch-all bowl by the door when her phone began to ding. She felt her heart begin to race as she saw the approval message on her screen that Charlie had accepted her request to rent him as her Thanksgiving date.

“Oh my god...okay...okay, this is fine...everything is fine.” She muttered to herself as she received another notification that Charlie had messaged her. She set her phone down on the counter and peeled her coat and scarf off before slipping her feet out of her boots. She wiped her sweaty hands on her jeans and grabbed her phone, refusing to look at it until she had settled in on her couch. She crossed her feet under her and pulled a throw pillow to her chest before finally sliding up on the notification and reading the message that he sent. 

Let's get to know each other? Lunch tomorrow?

Y/N hesitated for a moment before her fingertips began to slide across the keyboard on her screen.

Sounds good! How do you feel about chicken & waffles? I know a place!

She read over what she had sent several times, worried that she sounded too eager. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she waited for his response, watching as several dots appeared and disappeared several times on her screen before he finally sent his response. 

A girl after my own heart! How is 12:30? Send me the address? 

She felt her cheeks grow warm at his response and mentally reminded herself that he was just being kind and that she was quite literally paying for him. 

500 Rue Kennedy Dieppe, NB. and 12:30 is perfect! I’ll see you then! 

Y/N took a deep breath and closed the app before her thumb hovered over her mother’s contact. She quickly clicked on her number and quietly whispered to herself “please don’t answer, please don’t answer, please don’t answer.” 

“Thank god!” she exclaimed as the phone sent her to voicemail. She rolled her eyes at her mother’s elaborate message before finally being told to leave her message at the sound of the beep. 

“Hi, mom...it’s me...I just wanted to let you know that you will need to make sure to set an extra place setting for thanksgiving. Love you.” She rattled off, keeping the message vague but to the point. 

The following day Y/N stood inside of her closet staring at her assortment of clothes trying to decide what said “I'm cool and  definitely not desperate even though I paid for a date for Thanksgiving because my family is insane.” 

She pulled a mustard yellow cable knit sweater from a hanger and laid it out on her bed before heading back to her closet. Her fingers sorted through the variety of skirts before settling on a silky, pleated navy skirt that was cinched at the waist. She laid the skirt out next to the sweater before moving over to her vanity. 

She sat on the poof chair and stared at her reflection for a brief moment before pulling the small drawer to the left open and lining up her primers, eye palette, eyeliner, mascara, and her signature red lipstick. She grabbed the mason jar that sat on the right tableside of the vanity and grabbed the appropriate brushes, lining those up as well. 

She used her middle finger of her right hand to gently swipe the eyeshadow primer onto her eyelids before dusting the brush across a shimmery gold eyeshadow. She used a maroon eyeshadow on her crease and slowly blended the colors until she achieved a golden and subtle smokey eye.Y/N shook her hands out to steady her nerves before slowly pulling the liquid eyeliner across her eyelids and flicking it softly at the end for a subtle cat-eye before she carefully built volume on her eyelashes with the mascara. Finally, she grabbed the matte red lipstick and carefully swiped it across her lips before blotting them with a tissue. 

Y/N jumped at the sound of her phone vibrating on her nightstand. She moved across the room and grabbed the phone from the charger. 

See you soon! 

She felt the nerves settle back into her stomach and wiped her clammy hands on her pajama pants before quickly undressing. She pulled the yellow cable knit sweater over her head, careful not to let it touch her face. She followed that by pulling on the pleated navy skirt,  the fabric falling just above her knee. She pulled on the fabric of the sweater at her waist so that it slightly hung over the waistband of the skirt before she slipped her feet into a pair of black pointed flats. She took one last look at herself in the mirror and pulled her curls over her shoulders before grabbing her purse and slinging it across her body. 

Y/N entered the bustling restaurant and let her eyes wander across the tables trying to find Charlie. She wrung her hands together and pulled her lips into a thin line when she didn’t see him, her heart dropping at the thought that she had been stood up or even worse, that she had really fallen for a scam. She turned on her left foot and reached for the door, barely pulling it open before she felt a hand on her shoulder. She let go of the door, resulting in a soft thud as it closed. 

“Y/N? You weren’t about to bail on me were you?” The soft voice teased as she turned around. 

 “I thought you had stood me up, actually.” She could feel the blush that dusted across her cheeks at the accusation. Her left hand fell to her right wrist, her fingers loosely wrapping around it as she looked up at Charlie through her eyelashes and offered an apologetic smile. 

Charlie’s green eyes crinkled at the edges and his nose scrunched up as he laughed “take the money and run, I wish I would have thought of that!” 

“Oh..” Y/N looked back at the door and then back towards Charlie, “if you don’t want to do this, it’s fi--” 

Charlie smiled softly at her “I was just teasing, I didn’t want to sit at the table by myself in case you didn’t show and have to do the walk of shame, so I was at the bar.” 

Charlie placed his right hand on the small of her back and guided her to a table in the middle of the bustling restaurant. He pulled her chair out for her before taking a seat on the opposite side of the table. Y/N tucked her hair behind her ears and glanced at the menu, though she already knew what she was going to order. The waiter, a young kid, probably seventeen stopped by their table and quickly took their order. 

Y/N  finally looked up to find Charlie staring at her, his face cradled in his hands with his elbows propped up on the table. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“I’m just trying to figure out why a very beautiful girl would need to rent a date for a Holiday.” 

Y/N felt herself blush at his compliment and shrugged her left shoulder “I got dumped.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry” 

She smiled and waved him off “It’s no big deal, we wanted different things out of life. He wanted marriage and I,” she hesitated, she hadn’t talked about this with anyone other than Leigha.

“You what?” 

 “I want adventure and I know that sounds silly. Like, of course, you can have adventure and marriage but Noah,” she paused, “that’s my ex.” 

Charlie nodded and gestured for her to continue, “Noah works in the financial district and he wanted marriage and kids and stability….and I barely know what I want to eat for breakfast let alone what I want for eternity.” 

“You’re a free spirit, nothing wrong with that!” Charlie interjected and Y/N felt her first genuine smile of the night spread across her face. 

“You get it.” 

“I do get it.” 

Y/N thanked the waiter as he sat down two beers along with their orders of chicken and waffles, before turning back to Charlie. 

“So, tell me about your family. What should I prepare myself for?” Charlie lifted the pint glass to his lips and took a sip of the amber-colored beer.

‘Well,” Y/N blew air into her cheeks and sighed, “my mother thinks she’s Martha Stewart. So be sure to compliment the decor as soon as you see her. You’ll win her over for sure...and maybe don’t mention the whole free spirit thing or you will definitely end up on her list of terrible suitors that I have brought home.” 

“Noted.” Charlie nodded before adding, “and your dad?” 

“My dad is easy going, just talk about beer and hockey and you'll be fine.” 

Charlie threw his head back in laughter and Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the way his whole face lit up when he laughed. She felt a flutter in her stomach as Charlie leaned forward so that his forearms rested on the table and his fingers lightly brushed across hers before he pulled back. Y/n pulled her hands off of the table and dropped them into her lap, her fingers lightly traced over the silky fabric of her skirt.

“Is everything okay?” 

Y/N inhaled a sharp breath and rolled her bottom lip into her mouth before exhaling, “yeah, but I should probably tell you something,” she looked up at Charlie through her eyelashes. 

“Well, c’mon then..” Charlie teased after several seconds of silence. 

“My folks don’t exactly know that Noah and I are….done...and I know there’s going to be a big event made of it when they find out.”

“Oof…” Charlie sighed and took a swig from his beer and a bite of his food. 

Y/N felt her heart beating in her ears, “I understand if you, I mean if this is too much and you want to back out.” 

Charlie looked at her with a playful smirk, “are you actually going to eat that or?” He pointed at her untouched plate of food with his fork. 

“W-what?” Y/N looked down at her food and back up at Charlie before letting a smile slip onto her face. She didn’t understand how someone she had just met could put her nerves at ease without even trying. 

Charlie let his fork clatter on his plate before leaning forward on his elbows. Y/N watched with furrowed brows as he grabbed the maple syrup and poured it in a circle over her chicken before he leaned back into his seat and met her eyes with a soft smile on his face. 

Y/N picked up her fork and knife and cut into her maple drenched chicken before popping a small bite into her mouth, “are you happy now?” she teased Charlie before putting her fork back down. 

Charlie tried to hold back the smile that threatened to take over his face as he nodded his head. 

“So, what’s our story going to be? It’s gonna have to be a good one if I have to upstage Noah to win over your folks.”

The two spent the next hour concocting a believable, but very romantic story of how they met. They talked about their likes and dislikes, their quirks and habits, and all of the little things that couples are supposed to know about each other, 

Y/N felt butterflies erupt in her stomach as Charlie walked her to her car, his left hand just barely brushing against hers. She mentally scolded herself for feeling jittery over a guy that was simply fulfilling his job, but she also couldn’t help but hope that maybe he was feeling their connection too.

“I’ll pick you up next Wednesday at 4 pm, yeah?” Charlie asked as they arrived at her car. Y/n tucked her hair behind her right ear and nodded. 

She felt her breath hitch as Charlie leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek before walking backward and sending her a wave. 

A week later and Y/N found herself pulling on a green sequined, long sleeve dress, the hem set just above her knees. It was her go-to holiday dress, classic but not too formal. She painted her face with gold eyeshadow, a sharp winged eyeliner, and her classic red lips. Her hair hung over her shoulders in cascading curls. She sat on her bed, fastening a pair of strappy black heels when her phone dinged. She fastened the buckles of her heels and grabbed her phone, a smile instantly sliding onto her face at Charlie letting her know he’d be at her place in five minutes. 

She stood up and checked her appearance one final time before grabbing her gold clutch handbag and shoving her phone into it, just as Charlie knocked on her door. She quickly made her way to the front door and turned the lock before pulling the door open. 

“Wow…” Charlie breathed out as she came into full view. 

Y/N shyly smiled back at the boy, thankful that the blush she had on her cheeks already would mask the red glow that she could feel heating up her face.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she teased, her eyes trailing from his brown wing toed shoes up to his pristine white button-up and finally to his slightly coiffed hair.

“Shall we?” Charlie extended his arm out to Y/N after she locked her door. She looped her right arm through his left, her hand resting lightly on his forearm as they made their way through the corridor and outside to Charlie’s car. 

He opened the passenger side door for her and waited for her to get situated before closing the door and running around to the other side of the car. Their forty-minute drive was mostly silent as Y/N worked to calm her nerves down. She knew that she was going to have a lot of explaining to do when she showed up with Charlie in place of Noah and she was trying to memorize all of the details that they had agreed on a week prior. 

“Are you okay?” Charlie glanced over at her for a brief moment before returning his eyes to the road, his left hand took hold of the steering wheel as his right hand settled on her bare knee. 

His hand was warm against her cold skin and Y/N wasn’t sure why but she found her left hand moving to settle on top of his hand. Without hesitation, Charlie flipped his hand over and let her palm fall into his before his fingers slid between hers and gently curled. 

“Just nervous…”

Charlie lightly squeezed her hand before letting out a small chuckle “if I didn’t know any better, I would think that you’re the one about to meet my family.”

“Oh, I’m not nervous about them meeting you, they’ll love you,” Y/N clarified,” I’m nervous about the terrible things that I know my mother is going to say to me about ending things with Noah.”

Charlie licked his lips as he pulled into her parents’ driveway. He pulled his right hand free from hers and put the car in park before turning slightly in his seat to face her. 

“You know that nothing she says is going to be true, right? You don’t have to live by someone else's timeline for your life.”

Y/N pushed down the warming feeling in her heart and nodded her head at his words. 

“Yeah, I know...are you ready?” 

Charlie smiled brightly at her and pulled the keys from the ignition before getting out of the car. He double-stepped around the car to the passenger door and pulled it open for her, waiting for her to get out before closing the door. 

He slid his left palm into her right hand and tangled their fingers together before placing a soft kiss on her hairline and whispered “let’s put on a show.” 

Y/N could feel the nervous energy erupting in her stomach as they stood outside of her childhood home. She took a deep breath before twisting the doorknob and pushing the red front door open. They were met with the warm heat of the home and the smell of cinnamon as soon as they stepped inside. Charlie let his eyes wander across the walls of the entryway, scanning the line of pictures before tugging Y/N over to one. 

“This is you, yeah?” The question was rhetorical as it had been obvious that it was her in the picture. She stood on a cliffside, at the top of a mountain with a bright smile on her face, her childhood dog, Rex, beside her and the ocean behind her. 

“Yeah, I was seventeen and went backpacking by myself for the first time. My mom was so mad. This family that was passing by was kind enough to capture the moment for me and my dad insisted that it be hung on the wall of accomplishments…” Y/N rambled off the story before letting her eyes move from the picture and up to Charlie. 

Charlie smiled down at her and laughed, “this is gonna sound insane, but I think that was my family that stopped and took the picture.”

Y/N pulled her brows forward so that her forehead was pinched in the middle “shut up! No it wasn’t!” she finally exclaimed. 

“Rex….the dog’s name was Rex. I remember because I thought you were pretty and I got flustered and I said something dumb about Rex from Toy Story.”

Y/N’s eyes grew wide as Charlie recounted the story and she felt her cheeks growing red at the revelation “well, this is a weird twist in fate--” 

She was cut off by the sound of her dad’s deep voice bellowing her name as he turned the corner. Charlie pulled her into his side and let his right-hand rest on her hip, while her right hand rested on his chest. 

“Well, this certainly isn’t Noah!” Her father exclaimed a large smile on his face and his eyes soft. He had never been the biggest fan of Noah’s to begin with. 

Charlie dropped his hand from her waist and stepped forward with it stretched out towards her dad, “Charlie Gillespie, sir.” He was taken aback when her dad threw his head back in laughter and pulled him in for a full bear hug. 

“Nice to meet you, son” 

Y/N giggled at her dad’s antics, he had always been the type to do things like that. He was a stout man with laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. He had graying hair and a well-kept beard and he radiated kindness. 

“And you, little missy, are going to have a lot of explaining to do to your mother.” Y/N pulled back from her dad's embrace and blew the air out of her cheeks. 

“Yeah, I know…” 

Her dad gently squeezed her arm and gave her a reassuring smile before leaving the two to grab a beer from the kitchen. 

“Why do I have the overwhelming feeling to call your dad pops and ask him over to mine to watch hockey?” Charlie joked. 

Y/N shrugged and tangled her fingers with his, “I told you he was the easy one. Are you ready for the rest?” 

“Lead the way, beautiful.” 

Y/N tugged on Charlie’s hand and he followed behind her as they made their way to the den where her brothers were corralled around and a card table, intense looks on each of their faces as they held their cards close to their bodies. Their wives were set on the opposite side of the room. Y/N could feel the three women’s eyes on her as she entered the room with Charlie and she knew their hushed whispers were aimed at her and the fact that Charlie was very much not Noah. 

Her youngest brother, Josh, was the first of the three boys to look up and notice her. He dropped his cards on the table, face down, and scooted his chair back against the hardwood floors. 

“Junebug!” He yelled as he practically launched himself towards her. Y/N exploded into a fit of giggles as her feet left the floor and he twirled her around in circles. Josh was three years younger than her, sitting at nineteen but she had always been the closest with him. Her giggles quieted down as he sat her back down and turned to Charlie. 

“Well, you’re not Noah.” Josh quipped with a playful smirk on his face. 

Charlie rubbed the back of his neck and laughed “I have a feeling I am going to be getting that a lot today.” 

“You play poker?” Josh eyeballed him. 

“I know my way around a deck of cards, yeah.” Charlie shrugged. 

Josh turned to Y/N and lightly punched her shoulder, “looks like you got yourself an upgrade, Junebug!” 

Y/N rolled her eyes at her brother and wished Charlie luck as he was pulled over to the table and introduced to her two older brothers, Samuel and Michael. She felt her shoulders relax for a moment as the table erupted with laughter from something Charlie had said. He looked up from his cards and shot her a wink before turning his attention back to the game at hand. 

Y/N glanced back at Charlie one last time before making her way over to the prying eyes of Amy and Melissa, the wives of Samuel and Michael. The two women each held a mug of her mother’s homemade cider in their manicured hands. 

“Who’s the cutie?” Amy was the first to speak, her left eyebrow raised as she asked the question. 

Y/N looked over her shoulder for a moment with a smile before turning back around “Charlie…” 

“Oh! Well, you’ve certainly never said Noah’s name like that before!” Melissa looked at Y/N with wide eyes. 

Y/N shook her head at the two gossipy women “like what?’

Amy and Melissa both shot knowing looks to each other before Amy quipped, “sweetie, that boy’s name left your lips like honey falling from a spoon.” 

“It did not!’ 

“You can deny it all you want, but we both heard it!” Melissa declared and brought her mug up to her lips, taking a sip of the warm cider. 

“Looks like I’m out boys!” Y/N heard from the other side of the room. She glanced over her shoulder to find Charlie laying his cards down on the table before he slid out of his chair. She smiled at him as he made his way over to her. He stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist and tugged her back into his chest, his head resting on her shoulder. 

“Charlie, these are my sister-in-laws, Amy, and Melissa.” 

“Very nice to meet both of you.” Charlie beamed at the two women. 

Melissa and Amy stood up at the sound of heels clicking against the tile floor of the kitchen. Melissa made her way around Y/N and she gently squeezed Charlies’s bicep, “good luck honey.” 

Charlie pressed a kiss to Y/N’s cheek and tightened his arms around her waist as he felt her body tense in his arms.

“You’ve got this,” Charlie reassured before loosening his grip on her and letting her grab his hand. 

Y/N sucked in a deep breath and gently pulled Charlie behind her as she navigated through the formal dining room and towards the kitchen where her mother was sure to be found. 

She stopped just inside the doorway to the kitchen and turned to face Charlie, “you can still get out of this, ya know?” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Charlie placed his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her around, nudging her into the kitchen while he followed. 

Y/N stood silently for a minute as she watched her mother pull the green bean casserole from the oven and wipe her hands across her floral apron. Her mother was a thin woman with auburn hair that was almost always pulled into a chignon. 

“Mom? Can I talk to you?” Y/N hesitantly asked, suddenly feeling less like a twenty-two year old woman and more like a twelve-year old child. 

“What do you want to talk about, dear? Because if it’s about Noah,” her mother grabbed a wooden spoon and stirred the brown gravy that was simmering on the stove, “then I frankly don’t have time to listen to your childish reasons for ending the only good thing you had.” 

“You know?” Y/N choked out

Her mother grabbed the pepper grinder and began to twist the top over another pot of food, “I called Noah after we spoke last week since you couldn’t give me a straight answer when I called you.” 

“Oh…” Y/N placed her hands on Charlie’s chest and gently pushed him backward. Her eyes pleading with him to give her a minute. She didn’t want him to bear witness to the reprimanding she knew was about to come. Charlie hesitantly left her side and waited on the other side of the door. 

Her mother finally turned around to face Y/N. She placed her hands on the edge of the counter, her knuckles white from the tight grip. 

“Honestly, y/n. I don’t know why you can’t get your life together. You graduated college just to throw away your education for this silly photography hobby of yours and now you threw away a perfectly acceptable relationship because you want to travel and have adventures? You’re not a child, anymore, y/n. When is this going to stop? When are you going to grow up?”

Y/N stood silently as the words washed over her. She could feel the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and let out a shaky breath. 

“I…”

“What? You what, Y/N? What explanation could you possibly have this time?” Her mother cut her off. 

Charlie pushed himself off of the wall he had been leaning on from the other side of the door and quickly made his way back into the kitchen. He felt her mother’s eyes on him as he quickly pressed a kiss to Y/N’s cheek, his hand sliding across the middle of her back before he put on his best smile and made his way over to her mother. 

“You have a lovely home, Mrs. Y/L/N. My mother would be insanely envious of the spread you’ve created, it’s magazine worthy!” 

“Thank you, dear. You are much too kind! I am so sorry, but I don’t believe I caught your name?”

Y/N looked down at the floor and smiled to herself at the charm that Charlie exuded as he introduced himself to her mother and offered to help her bring the endless amounts of food to the formal dining room for her. 

“I’ll go gather everyone.” Y/N shot an appreciative smile to Charlie before she made her way back to the den to gather the rest of the family into the dining room. 

Y/N made her way over to the empty chair next to Charlie, the latter getting out of his own chair to pull her chair out for her before sitting back down. He placed his hand on the inside of her thigh and let his thumb rub circles on the top of her leg. 

Her dad stood at the top of the table and carved the turkey while small talk was exchanged between her brothers and their wives and suddenly the question finally came from her mother. 

“So, how did you two meet?” 

Y/N glanced over at Charlie not sure if he was going to take the lead or not and was surprised when he started spitting out a story that was definitely not the one they had agreed on during their lunch meeting, 

 “I met your daughter several years ago on a hiking trip with my family,” Charlie paused and looked over at her before continuing, “my older brother, Patrick actually took that photo that you have on your wall in the entryway!” 

Y/N’s heart was beating erratically as Charlie squeezed her knee before turning his focus back to her mother “your daughter took my breath away that day and I kicked myself for weeks for not getting her number and just having this missed connection. I guess you could call it a twist of fate, really, that I found her again.” 

Y/N’s mother smiled at the two of them and Y/N felt her body tense for just a moment before relief rushed over her at her mother’s words “that may be the most romantic thing I have ever heard in my life.”

“Can we eat now or?” Josh hesitantly asked as he grabbed the plate of yams and began piling a portion onto his plate. 

Y/N felt at ease for the rest of the evening as their shared meal went off without a hitch. Her family shared embarrassing stories of her with Charlie and she sipped glasses of wine as he endlessly complimented her. Her heart felt full as the night drew to a close and her dad pulled out the last Thanksgiving tradition. The wishbone was passed around the table until it landed in her hands. She turned to Charlie and gestured for him to grab the other end of the bone. They both tugged on the bone with their eyes closed until it snapped. 

Y/N opened her eyes and looked down at the fractured bone in her hand and then over to Charlie who was holding the larger side. 

“Make a wish,” she whispered to him with a soft smile on her face. Charlie shook his head and kissed her forehead. 

“I don’t have to, I’ve got everything I want right here.” 

Y/N dropped her eyes to the table and reminded herself that as much as she felt the connection between her and Charlie, that he was just playing a role.

She looked up as the sound of chairs sliding against the floor filled the room. She followed suit and slowly stood up from her chair. 

“Do you need help, mom?” 

“You go ahead and head out honey, I know you have a long drive.”

Y/N made her rounds of goodbye to her family before looking back at Charlie and grabbing his hand. They silently walked to his car and he opened the car door for her. Y/N hummed along to the songs that played on the radio during the drive back to her place. She tried to ignore the heat that she felt in her stomach as Charlie’s thumb ran across her knuckles every now and then. She watched the cars that passed by them, red tail lights lighting up her face as they drove on the highway. Before she knew it they were parked outside of her apartment. 

“I guess this is it then…” Charlie looked over at Y/N as she unbuckled her seatbelt. 

“I guess so.” Y/N agreed, her right hand rested on the door handle as she looked at Charlie, her eyes searching for any indication that he didn’t want her to leave. She let her hand pull on the door handle when Charlie didn’t respond. 

She swung the car door open and stepped out into the street before making her way to the sidewalk. She turned around at the sound of another car door shutting and was taken aback by Charlie running over to her side 

“I should walk you to your door,” Charlie answered the silent question

Y/N smiled and led the way through the apartment corridor until they stood outside of her door, her keys dangling in her left hand. She looked up at Charlie and smiled, “you didn’t have to see me inside, ya know?” 

Charlie rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand and shrugged, “all part of the job.” 

Y/N felt her smile falter and turned around to place the key into the lock of her apartment door. She quickly turned the key and opened the door before stepping inside. She turned to look at Charlie one last time, “well, thank you for giving me my money’s worth,” she let her eyes fall from his. 

“Goodbye, Charlie.” She closed the door and dropped her keys into the catch-all bowl before kicking her heels off and making her way over to the couch. She let her body slump into the soft cushions and pulled her phone out to call the only person that was going to understand. 

“Tell me everything!” Leigha demanded as soon as her face appeared on the phone. 

‘Well,” Y/N sighed, “I think I accidentally started to fall in love with him.” 

Leigha couldn’t stop the giddy laughter that erupted from her small frame “I knew this was going to happen! I so called this!” 

Y/N rolled her eyes at her best friend and poked her bottom lip out in a pout “it’s not funny Lee...I’m never gonna see him again and now I have all of these feelings to deal with.”

“You don’t know that!” Leigha argued

“I appreciate that you’re a hopeless romantic, Lee, but I was nothing but a paying customer to him...he basically said so himself.” Y/N frowned, thinking back to Charlie’s words as he walked her to her door. 

“Oh...hun, I’m so sorry.” 

Y/N let a sad smile slip onto her face, “I’m gonna go to bed, coffee tomorrow morning?”

Y/N hung her phone up and pulled herself up from the couch. She shuffled through the apartment until she reached her room and slowly peeled the sequined dress from her body. She made her way to the vanity and grabbed a makeup wipe and slowly removed the makeup from her face before she crawled into bed and pulled the covers tight around her body. 

It was 8 am when Y/N was pulled from her slumber by her phone blaring the ringtone that Leigha insisted she set for herself. She rolled over with her eyes still closed and fumbled around for her phone before slowly cracking her eyes to hit the green button.

“What?” Y/N grumpily answered

“Don’t what me!” Leigha chastised, “there’s a cute boy at the cafe and he just ordered your order! Like to the T!” 

Y/N set up in her bed and pressed her fingers into her eyes, rubbing the sleep away in small circles. 

“Ok? And?” 

“AND?! AND!!! His name is Charlie! I swear to god if you don’t get out of bed and make yourself look decent, I will literally kill you!” 

Y/N dropped her phone onto her bed and pulled the covers back. She quickly made her way to her bathroom and brushed her teeth. She stared at herself in the mirror and ran her fingers through her messy bed head, her curls tangling together between her fingers. 

“Shit..okay….okay…” She muttered to herself and opted to twist her hair up into a top knot. She secured it with a hair tie and ran back to her room where she threw on a pair of black leggings and an oversized jumper. Her heart nearly leaped out of her chest when she heard a knock on her door. 

She wiped her hands on her leggings and quickly made her way to her front door. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves before reaching forward to unlock the door. Her hand shook as she turned the doorknob and slowly pulled the door open. Stood on the other side was Charlie with a small brown bag and a hot coffee extended out to her. 

Y/N stepped to the side and opened the door wider, allowing Charlie to come in.

“What are you doing here?” She asked as she took the bag and coffee from his hands. She sat the bag on the counter and pulled the cup to her lips, taking a small sip. She hummed to herself as the warm liquid slid down her throat. 

Charlie stepped forward and hesitantly took the drink from her hands, setting it on the counter behind her. Y/N watched anxiously as Charlie’s eyes moved across her face, flickering between her eyes and lips several times before he lifted his hands and placed one on her right cheek while the other cradled her neck.

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” Charlie whispered into the space between them before catching her lips with his. Charlie pulled away before Y/N had a chance to react, his face glowing red as he held his bottom teeth between his top two teeth. 

“Is this free of charge?” Y/N joked as she placed her hands on Charlie’s chest and leaned forward, bringing her lips back to his. 

@straywonpil @siennanoelle01 @choppedhoundsludgeclod @cool-ultra-nerd @hxney-bunches-x @crybabyddl @sorryyoureoutofmyleague @dream-a-little-bigger-x @kcd15 @all-in-fangirl @ifilwtmfc @onlygetaway @iainttakingshitfromnobody @angryknightstatesmantrash @jazzyhales @bathtimejish @lanasfandoms @miranda0102 @emotionalbruv @aliandthephantoms @multifandombabies @kinda-really-lost @5sosmukefan @alexpjoyner @mo-d3ans @hannahhistorian92 @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @i-should-be-writing-my-own-fic @sunflowerbecca @n0wornever @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic

#charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie #luke patterson #charlie gillespie one shot #charlie gillespie fanfic #jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie and the fat ones #julie and the himbos #julie and the phantoms fanfic #luke patterson fanfic

[the-sympathetic-villain]

New Labels

AO3

Pairings: QPR Lociet

Warnings: Light insecurity/Anxiety

Word count: 3,989

Description: Logan and Janus rescue a kitten on their first date :)

[Reposting this for better formatting on my writing masterpost]

gosh part of me wants to revisit this AU lol

-

    “Well…I guess I'll see you later.”

    “I would assume so. You do tend to frequent my place of employment rather consistently.”

    Ouch.

    Janus tried to hide his hurt as he smiled crookedly up at the cute barista that he'd only recently managed to work up the courage to ask out on a date. A crack of thunder rolled across the sky above them, and Janus watched as Logan pulled down the hood of his raincoat.

    Crappy weather for a date.

    Despite Logan's constant reassurances that he enjoyed the rain, Janus couldn’t help but feel that their date had been doomed from the start. He sighed and smiled. If he was being honest with himself, things could have gone worse. He knew he'd loved every minute of their afternoon together and he only hoped Logan felt the same. They’d had lunch at a quiet little bistro downtown that Logan had recommended and after they’d ran through the pouring rain down the block to one of Logan's favorite bookstores. A warm smile spread across Janus' at the fresh memory of following Logan through the aisles listening to him talk endlessly about all of his favorite authors. Logan could go on for hours and Janus was all too eager to listen.  The way his face lit up when he was excited was too pure and perfect. He was perfect. Logan had even inquired about Janus’ reading preferences and picked out some novels for him to read so they could discuss them later.

    Guess that doesn’t mean much though, if there's not going to be a second date.

    Janus swallowed sadly. The date really had been perfect.

    Why did I have to get invested?

    He'd been debating about asking for him for months. Janus knew his schedule at the coffee shop by heart at this point. They’d been taking for nearly a year and his best friend had talked him into at least asking him out.

    I'm going to kill Ro—

    “I have some concerns about your caffeine intake. Continued reliance on stimulants can affect your mood and sleep patterns.” Logan absentmindedly pulled his keys from his pocket and worked through the keys to find the right one. Janus felt his heart skip a beat as Logan tilted his head up to smirk at him. “Then again, if it weren't for your dependence on caffeine, I would see you much less and that would be truly disappointing."

    Janus stifled a squeak of surprise as flash of lightning illuminated Logan's porch. He played it cool, hoping the lightning had  distracted Logan from the almost certainly undignified face he'd made at Logan's words. With a devilish smile, he took a step closer to Logan as thunder rumbled around them. “I definitely would never put my heath at risk in order to see you more often.”

    This time it was Logan's turn to blush and Janus couldn't help the smile that quirked on his lips at the sight.

    Logan cleared his throat, and fumbled with his keys. Janus raised an eyebrow. He seemed to be stalling, even as he moved to leave. “Well, umm. Yes. I suppose we should part ways for the night.”

    Oh god. He wants me to kiss him.

    A slight shiver ran up Janus' spine at the thought and his smile faltered for a moment. It wasn’t that Logan was an unattractive person. Quite the opposite actually. Janus often caught himself staring at Logan whenever he wasn't careful. Janus swallowed nervously. Logan wasn’t the problem. Aesthetically, he was very attractive. Janus just didn't wasn't the type for romantic attraction, or sexual really, but he'd always been more repulsed by romantic gestures than anything.

    The hand-holding, sappy, over-the-top displays of affection that everyone in the world seemed to enjoy made his stomach turn. Kissing most of all confounded him. Why people seemed to enjoy trying to swallow each other’s tongues, he'd never know.

    But they do and I don't. I guess it’s better to rip off the band-aid now and tell him I'm aromantic. It's better to see if he can live with that before this goes too far.

    Janus swallowed nervously. Rejection was never easy, and he wasn't sure he could handle it coming from the barista who he'd seen nearly every day for the last year.

    God, I'm never going to be able to get a decent cup of coffee again.

    “Listen, Logan—” He started nervously.

    Mew.

    Janus stopped, seeing the confused expression on Logan's face. “Do you have a cat?”

    Logan shook his head, glancing around the porch. “I do not.”

    “It's pouring rain right now.” Janus glanced around at the puddles of water pooling in the shallow dips in Logan's yard.

    Mewww.

    The cat's call was longer this time and was almost shrill with fear.

    “Perhaps, we should locate this cat. It appears to be distressed and combination of rain and wind could pose potential danger for a small animal.” Janus could see the worry growing in Logan’s eyes, and he nodded, following behind Logan as he stepped off the porch to follow the noise.

    Mewwww.

    The calls were getting louder and more insistent as they approached the far side of the deck and peered through the cross hatch underneath.

    Mewwww.

    Janus eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness under the deck and he could just make out a small, black kitten cowering in the shadows.

    “It's young,” Logan looked over at Janus with a serious expression. “Barely old enough to be weaned. It must have squeezed through the gaps in the wood and gotten stuck.”

   Janus nodded. “Well, since I'm definitely slender enough to slip through that gap, do you have a drill?”

    Logan raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you going to take it apart?”

    “What?” Janus smiled teasingly at him. “I don’t seem trustworthy?”

    His coyness seemed to fall on deaf ears as nervous settled across Logan’s face. “Are you licensed?”

    “No, but I know what I'm doing, and if we waste time trying to find someone with the proper qualifications, that kitten is going to be iintrouble.” Logan still looked wary, but Janus was quick to reassure him. “Trust me. I've done this several times before. It's just a couple of screws holding it in place. It'll pop right back on when I'm done.”

    Logan nodded and Janus blushed at the subtle smile that appeared on his face. “Okay, I'll be right back.”

    Logan stood up and went inside, leaving Janus squatting in the drizzling rain as he looked down at the little kitten shivering near one of the supporting posts.

    “Hey there, little one.” He made a clicking noise with his tongue, trying to coax it closer. “It’s a little cold out here, huh?”

    Mew.

    “I know. We're going to get you out of there and find some place warm for yiu to stay. Okay?”

    Mew.

    Too his surprise, the kitten stood up, approaching him cautiously. Janus reached out a hand rubbing his fingers together and clicking. “Come on, buddy. Make this easier on us and just come out of there.”

    Mew.

    “How about you do me a solid and help me impress this cute boy I'm on a date with?”

    Mew.

    The kitten stopped just behind the crisscrossing wood and sat on the ground. Janus sighed and smiled. “Just like a cat to make things difficult.”

    Mew.

    “No? Nature itself would like me to fail?” Janus rolled his eyes. “That hardly what I ever would have expected."

    Janus reached his fingers through the wood, but stopped as the kitten backed away cautiously. He waited patiently as the kitten relaxed. Janus could feel the rain dripping down his face as the cat sniffed his hand. Janus smiled as the whiskers tickled his hand. The cat rubbed its face on Janus' hand and allowed him to reach up to scratch it's chin. “See? I’m not a bad guy, right?”

    Meewwww.

    The cat whined as Janus pulled his hand out from the gap. “Well, come out then if you want more.”

    Mew.

    The kitten trailed behind his fingers and reluctantly pushed it head through the door. Janus picked it up, cuddling it close in his arms. The little, cat purred happily in his hands as he scratched his chin. He slowly stood up, just as Logan came around the corner, with a drill in one hand and a towel in the other. His shoulders dropped in surprise as he noticed the purring kitten in Janus' arms.

    A subtle smirk appeared on Logan's face as the worry disappeared “I see you didn't actually require my assistance at all.”

    Janus' heart fluttered with pride at the smile on Logan’s lips, but he forced himself to play it off nonchalantly. “I only needed a moment alone to work my magic powers.”

    Logan smirked back at him. “Well, I will admit I am impressed.”

    “Yes,  it’s definitely that, and not at all the fact that you’re relieved that I don't have to take your deck apart.” Janus smiled smugly.

    “I won’t deny that is preferential to the alternative, but I am impressed you seem to have all the have all the beauty and power of a Disney princess.” Logan narrowed his eyes playfully at him.

    Great. At least I know Roman would approve.

    Janus rolled his eyes. “Are we going inside then?”

    Logan hesitated, suddenly nervous again. When he finally spoke, hos voice was friendly, but cautious. “I must admit I don't usually allow the men I date into my home on the first date."

    “Yes, because I often plan to rescue a scared kitten in order to gain access to my date’s homes.” Janus immediately regretted his sarcasm as a look of discomfort crossed Logan’s face. “You know what? That wasn't fair, Logan. If you're uncomfortable, I’ll go. Do you want to take—"

    Logan’s face softened quickly and he held up a hand to stop him. “You’re not going anywhere, Janus.”

    Janus froze in confusion. “But you just said—”

    “I know,” Logan smiled sweetly at him. “but these are hardly normal circumstance. You are helping me, and you’re soaking wet for your efforts. I think I can bend the rules for you. After all, you're hardly a stranger at this point.”

    The corner of Janus' lips twitched into a smile and nodded as Logan led him around the front of his house. Stepping inside, he couldn't help but notice that the walls of the room were lined with unpacked boxes.

    “Did you just move in?”

    “Yesterday.” Logan slipped off his raincoat to reveal the dark blue button up and tie he'd come to expect with him.

    “It's a nice place.” Janus glanced around. His home was small, maybe two bedrooms, but it was nicely painted and the dark leather sofa and end tables in the room were definitely high quality. The cloud cover outside dampened the natural light in the room, but a small lamp in the corner illuminated the room in a warm light. “Do you live alone?”

    Logan raised an eyebrow at him.

    Janus flushed, holding the sleeping kitten close to his chest. “Sorry. I suppose I it would have been wise to start with a less serial-killer-type question.”

    Logan laughed and Janus couldn't help but grin stupidly at the smile on Logan’s face.

  “I think I can find it in myself to overlook your red flags.” Logan opened one of the boxes and began to unload it's contents in neat piles on the floor. “I had a previous house mate, but he recently moved in with his boyfriend and I moved here.”

    “That's rough. I suppose money's a bit tight then? I can't imagine you make enough as a barista to easily afford a place like this.”

    Logan lifted the empty box with him as he stood up, giving Janus a strange look. “You are aware I own the coffee shop I work in, correct?”

    “What?” Janus mouth dropped open as he nearly shouted in surprise. The kitten mewed irritably, and Janus dropped his voice. “Since when?”

    “Since it's inception.” Logan shrugged as he put the shallow box on the sofa. “The previous roommate I mentioned and I actually own a few of them throughout town.”

    Janus looked at him dumbfounded.  “Is that why you won't let me tip you?”

    Logan smiled at Janus’ shock and shrugged as he pulled a blanket off the back of the couch.  He tucked the blanket into the box to make a makeshift bed for the kitten in Janus' arms. “It’s not customary to tip the proprietor of an establishment.”

    “But you never said that was why.” Janus spat out. “You just played coy with me.”

    Logan smirked at him and laughed. “I was… I believe the correct phrase is, ‘being a tease.’”

    “Do you mean to tell me you've been flirting with me this entire time?”

    “Clearly.” He stated plainly, but Janus could see the subtle smile tugging at his lips. His smile grew as he reached his hands out. “Now, give her to me.”

    “Her?” Janus asked as he passed the kitten to Logan

    “I'm fairly certain judging by her size and physical traits but…” The cat chirped in protest of being lifted out of the warm towel and he lifted her up to examine her. “She is female. Although I suppose the pronouns are arbitrary, considering cats are not familiar with human social construct of gender—”

    “You’re trying to distract me from the fact that you flirted with me for a year, and as you can see, it's working flawlessly.” Janus crossed his arms and tried to look disappointed.

    Logan merely rolled his eyes and tucked the kitten under his arm as he reached into an open box to grab a small towel. He gently massaged the dampness off the purring kitten in his hand as he continued speaking. “I think that I enjoy having the figurative tables turned. Usually it is I who is considered the oblivious party.”

    “You mean to tell me I could have been dating you this whole time?” Janus put his hand on his forehead in dramatic, mock frustration. “Tragedy does strike at me yet again.”

    “You have been quite the conversation at the coffee shop. If I'm not mistaken,  there were even betting pools about when you were finally going to ask me out.” Janus blushed and Logan chuckled as the kitten started to climb his shirt. He carefully unhooked the kitten’s claws from his shirt and set her down in the box, and for a moment, they watched as the kitten began to knead the blankets, apparently enthralled by the soft material. Logan drew his eyes away and glanced up at him with a soft smile. “Personally, I'm glad you waited a while though. I prefer to know someone for some time before I consider them as a romantic partner.”

    Logan’s voice was carefree as he reached down to stroke the kitten, but Janus heart sank as he was reminded of the potential deal breaker hanging over his head. “Logan…”

    Logan's head shot back up at his serious tone.

    “Come sit.” He gestured for Logan to join him on the couch. Janus sat on one side of the box and Logan slowly dropped onto to other side. He hung his head and was quiet for a while, hesitant to break their easy chemistry.

    “Janus, if I have offended you in some way, I’m sorry—” Logan looked over at him with concern in his eyes.

    “You didn't offend me.” Janus hung his head, anxiety building in his chest. He watched kitten twirl around in the box between them and drop into the blanket, laying her head on her tail as she settled in comfortably.  “I just would prefer to have this discussion before either if us get too invested.”

    Logan stared at him for a while, but nodded and waited patiently as Janus gathered his thoughts.

    “Logan, I'm aromantic.” Janus looked up at him expecting disappointment, but was met with a confused expression.

    “Well, yes. You smell very pleasant. I don't know what that has to do—”

    “What?” Janus paused for a moment before the realization his him. “No. Not aromatic, Logan. Aromantic.”

    Logan paused. “I'm sorry. I'm not familiar with the term.”

    “Oh, right.” Janus hadn't considered that he may have to explain the concept. “Have you heard of the split attraction model?”

    Logan looked at him curiously. “No.”

    Janus smiled patiently at him. “It’s based on the idea that there are multiple types of attraction. Many people experience sexual and romantic attraction simultaneously  so they consider them to be the same thing, but there's a spectrum of people who experience attraction differently or not at all., and I'm one of those people.”

    Logan nodded contemplatively. “Okay.”

    “I'm still questioning some of my identity. I assume I'm demisexual, which means I only find people attractive with whom I've formed a significant attachment. To be honest though, I've never been in a situation where I've put that theory into practice so to speak,” Janus sighed and hung his head. “But I know I'm aromantic.”

    “Which means what exactly?” Logan inquired seriously, stroking the kitten between them.

    “I don't experience romantic attraction.” Janus watched Logan's neutral expression as he explained. “I’m not drawn to people, because I want to be romantic or lovey with them. I don't like holding hands or sappy romantic gestures. The idea of kissing is repulsive to me. I just don't enjoy being part of that kind of relationship, because that kind of affection makes me uncomfortable.”

    “So, you are just interested in the potential for sex?”

    “No,” Janus’ face scrunched in disgust. “I'm not looking for that at all.”

    “I’m sorry. I'm trying not to assume anything.” Logan paused and Janus could see the struggle to understand in Logan's face. “I'm just trying to figure out what your intentions for asking me out were, if they weren't due to some degree of attraction.”

    Janus looked up at him, desperation in his eyes. “I am attracted to you in my own way. I enjoyed spending time with you and talking today. I like listening to you laugh or listening to tall excitedly about books. My attraction for you is real. It's just not romantic.”

    Logan watched him carefully. “And you’re not just trying to tell me you just want to be friends?”

    “No.” Janus said tiredly. His anxiety gave way to exhaustion. “I am interested in a committed relationship with you. I just don't want the type of relationship you see in a rom-com. I want to spend time with you rescuing cats and drinking coffee.”

    Logan was quiet for a long time and Janus heart sank further and further with each passing second. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but he felt his heart shattering.

     “So,” Logan spoke slowly. “You want to spend time with me. You want to be in a relationship, but you don't want to kiss me hold hands or be affectionate?”

     Janus couldn't bring himself to look up at Logan’s face. “I'd be affectionate. It just manifests differently. Something like the thought of listening to you talk excitedly about the stars is more appealing to me that the thought of kissing you.”

     Logan was silent, and Janus finally looked up at him. His hand had stopped moving on the kitten's back. Janus heart shattered at the downcast look on Logan’s face. He felt tears in his eyes.

    Damn it. Why'd I get invested?

    Rejection sucks.

   He choked back a sob, and stood to leave. “I'm sorry. This is stupid—”

    “Janus—”

    “I'm sorry I wasted your time.” Janus turned to go, but Logan caught his wrist.

    “Janus, stop.”

    “Logan, if you don't want this, it's fi—” Janus’ words failed him as he turned to see tears in Logan’s eyes.

    Logan looked down at where he held Janus' wrist before moving his gaze up to his eyes. “I’m sorry. I needed a moment to process what you were saying, I think… I think I may be aromantic too. I just lacked a word to define my feelings.”

    Janus froze for a moment, but as Logan dropped his wrist, Janus turned to kneel in front of Logan. “Shit, I didn’t see that coming. I'm sorry. Are you doing okay?”

    “I'm not the only one." Logan’s voice was breathless.

    Janus' lip curled into a smile. “You're not alone, Logan.”

    Logan sighed and he chuckled softly as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “I'm sorry. I’m not usually prone to being this dramatic.”

    “You aren't being dramatic.”

    “Is that one of your blatant falsehoods that you hide under the guise of sarcasm?” Logan sniffed, but Janus could see a smile twitch on his lips.

    “No, I've never been so truthful about anything in my life.” Janus reached a hand out and rested it on Logan's forearm. “Society puts pressure on us to live a certain way. The release of knowing there are other options can be a lot to handle.”

    “I never even considered there may be alternatives.” Logan ran a hand through his hair and Janus couldn't resist smiling as Logan mussed his own hair. Seeing Logan let his guard down made his heart flutter. “I simply accepted that I would be slightly uncomfortable in my relationships.”

    “You don't have to do that,” Janus smiled up at the him nervously. “especially if I get a part in your journey.”

    “Janus?”

    “Yes, Logan?” Janus gently squeezed his wrist.

    “May I hug you?”

    “Yes. I’m certainly not dying for you to do just  that.”

    Janus stretched his arms out and a warm feeling flooded his chest as Logan pulled him close.

    “Thank you, Jan."

    Janus' heart fluttered at the nickname and he smiled. “For what?”

    “For giving me a word to explain what I've been feeling.”

    “I'm glad I could help you.” Janus pulled back as Logan released him. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of Logan’s warm smile and the wet streaks of happy tears glistening on his face. “Can I assume you’re still interested in continuing to see me then?”

    “God, yes.” Logan's face flushed and he nervously backtracked. “I mean, if that would be favorable to you.”

    “God, yes please.” Janus laughed. His face was almost sore from how wide he was smiling as he wiped away the tears that were now falling freely down his face. Logan laughed and Janus would have sworn that sound to be the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

    Mew.

    Janus tore his eyes away from Logan to look down the tiny, black cat crawling to the edge of the box. Realizing she was close to edge, he reached out to stop her, but his reaction was a moment too slow. With a tumble, the kitten fell over the edge of the box and landed softly in Logan’s lap. Janus leaned back on his ankles, watching Logan smile as he stroked the kitten in his lap. She purred loudly, bumping her head insistently against Logan’s hands in demand for more attention.

    “What are you going to do with her?”

    Logan looked up at Janus with a sad smile. “She is well taken care of a shows indications of prior human socialization, so I expect I should attempt to find her owner.”

    Janus smirked, seeing the growing fondness in Logan's eyes as he looked down at the satisfied kitten. “And if you can't find her owner?”

    “I have always desired the companionship of a cat. They're exceptionally clever creatures, but I never had the opportunity because my previous housemate was allergic.” Logan looked up at Janus with a sparkle in his eye. “So, if attempts to find her owner are unsuccessful, you may have just given me the perfect house-warming gift.”

    “Good, because I want to give you everything.” Janus smiled happily and his heart felt light in his chest as he stared into Logan’s eyes.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #ts logan #ts janus #lociet #New Labels #villain writes #qpr #qpr loceit

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

Hello! So, something that always intrigued me is the concept of “reverse aus,” and I’ve been thinking about that in the context of Cobra Kai for a while now. How do you think it would go down if Demetri was the one to get roped into Cobra Kai? Obviously, I don’t think he would be as into as Eli canonically was (probably due to it becoming a special interest for him), but I’d be curious to hear your take on it. Would Eli end up going to Miyagi-Do like canon Demetri did, or would Demetri and Eli sort of become the new Evil Karate Husbands™️? And possibly, how do you think Demetri and Johnny’s dynamic would go? (I’m just going to awkwardly add that this is cc-tinslebee, coming to you live from my main blog because I don’t think Tumblr let’s sideblogs send asks-)

So this is actually the SECOND ask I’ve gotten about this scenario--Cherry sent in another one!--so I figured I’d give it a stab. Took me a while to work out how I think it would go and how everything would play out different if Demetri and Eli’s roles were reversed, but I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. I tried to make it more interesting than just “Demetri does all the stuff Eli does and Eli does all the stuff Demetri does.”

Also I lowkey LOVE the idea of Evil Karate Husbands and even though that isn’t the direction this particular AU goes in, I might do a divergent spin-off AU to explore that too??? Because man...the thought of Miguel desperately trying to save his two best friends who have fallen to the dark side...*cries*

Fair warning that this AU is gonna get dark as shit--I fully belive things would’ve gotten equally fucked up between them in a role reverse AU, just, ah...in slightly different ways. A lot of this will not be Happy Times later on, much like their canon relationship XD

OKAY TIME FOR PAIN, LET’S GOOOO

Longboi post so be warned!!!

Season 1

After getting his ass handed to him--for trying to stick up for Eli, no less--Demetri was pissed. Why the hell was he paying some guy to beat him up for daining to have a problem with him bullying his best friend? Going home in a rage, he nearly texted Miguel to tell him he was quitting--but something stopped him just before he hit Send.

He remembered the look on Eli’s face just after Kyler shoved him away. He remembered seeing Eli stiffen when Kyler grabbed him by the chin, practically feeling the terror emanate from his friend’s body. He remembered how completely and infuriatingly helpless he felt.

It certainly wasn’t the first time something like that had happened. But maybe if Miguel was onto something--maybe if karate really could protect him and Eli from the bullies--it could be the last.

Mr. Lawrence (or Sensei Lawrence, as he obnoxiously insisted on being called) hardly let up on bullying Eli. Even at Eli’s request not to call him “Lip” and the pleading of his star student Miguel Diaz himself, the man only seemed to crack down harder--in some sort of twisted effort to “toughen Eli up,” Demetri guessed. Demetri defended Eli every single time, not mincing any words mouthing off at Sensei Lawrence. It got Demetri punched in the face, flipped on the mat, saddled with much harder drills than the rest of the class, but he didn’t give a shit. He wasn’t about to let anyone treat Eli like that, no matter what pain he had to endure for it.

Johnny, meanwhile, is immensely annoyed by this obnoxious, sarcastic kid who just can’t stop running his mouth--but working him twice as hard as the rest of the class is proving to be fruitless in shutting him up. But, Johnny’s finding, Demetri constantly antagonizing him doesn’t have to be a hindrance. Anger like that can be weaponized--the more he provokes Demetri, the more he insults and belittles that Eli kid he’s so attached to, the harder Demetri punches. The quicker he moves when he fights. The stronger he kicks. Johnny sometimes comes home after training covered in nasty bruises, almost entirely from sparring Demetri--they’re enough to make Carmen and Rosa Diaz worry he’s getting jumped on the way home.

One day Johnny takes his ribbing of Eli just a little too far, hoping to get an especially vicious reaction out of Demetri. Eli, pushed to the end of his rope, runs out of the dojo, barely holding back tears. Demetri starts to go after him, but Miguel puts a hand on his arm and stops him, saying they can both check up on him later.

When Demetri finds Eli after practice, Eli’s sobbing. “I can’t do this anymore, Deme. No matter what you say to him, he just keeps picking on me. It never stops.” Demetri winces, because Eli isn’t wrong--Sensei Lawrence really hasn’t stopped bullying Eli at all, and while Demetri was busy letting himself get riled up by it, he didn’t actually think to see how it was affecting Eli. “Well, I know it sucks now, and Mr. Lawrence is a huge asshole, but we’re learning to be tough,” Demetri reasons. “We’re learning to be intimidating. A few more months here, and the bullies will never touch us again! Just like Miguel!” And Eli just scowls, uncharacteristically angry for his timid self, and says “Well, it’s not worth it if I have to feel like shit the whole time! If every time I step in here I get everything about me picked apart, over and over again! I’m done with this, Demetri.”

And just like that, Eli is out of the dojo. Demetri can’t help but be disappointed--he’d looked forward to them training together, and seeing Eli become a badass, fearless fighter who could hand Kyler’s ass to him after all those fucked up things he said to Eli. And to make matters worse, Sensei Lawrence doesn’t stop using Eli as fuel to rip out Demetri’s rage long after Eli’s gone. “Oooh, Loudmouth, feeling sad today? Missing Lip the Quitter?” “You keep throwing punches like that, and you could get beat up by that loser with the fucked lip you were so enamored with. Although knowing you, you’d let him win anyways.” And Demetri can’t help but hate the man, but damn, if it doesn’t feel good to land an especially good hit on him, or jab him in the thigh with a powerful kick.

But things aren’t bad--Demetri still has Miguel, and their new friend Aisha. Eli still hangs out with them outside of practice, and indulges Demetri in his ever-increasing ramblings about martial arts, no matter how nervous and uncomfortable karate tends to make Eli. If Demetri likes it that much, maybe he should make an effort to show interest in it. The four of them crash Yasmine’s birthday party, and Demetri even finds himself smooth-talking them into getting alcohol with his newfound confidence. After all, if he can land punches faster than a snake can strike, how difficult can it be to weasel his way into getting a little beer?

Meanwhile Moon, feeling understandably unfulfilled in her popular clique, takes an interest in the Cool New Karate Gang in town, and after apologizing to Aisha at the beach rager, the two strike up a friendship. She comes to hang out with their group more and more, and Eli finds her surprisingly easy to talk to. Moon constantly makes an effort to include him when the others get to wrapped up talking about karate, and he appreciates her kindness and sincerity. It’s odd, really, how easy it is to have a conversation with her, considering how nervous he tends to get around her. But Eli doesn’t think too much about it.

When it comes time for the tournament, Moon and Eli go together to support their friends. Eli finds his gaze flickering back and forth between Moon and Demetri, lingering on each of them longer than he would care to admit--and he can’t quite explain why. Something about Moon’s wide, excited smile, the smell of cherry shampoo in her hair...but also Demetri’s smug, triumphant smirk when he pulls off an especially impressive move, the way his wiry arm muscles ripple when he fights. They’re both just so...captivating.

Demetri, for his part, is ruthless. Much more so than Eli has ever seen him be. He’s always been sarcastic and cynical, but resigned to his fate--at the tournament, Demetri lashes out in vicious ways the old Demetri would never have had the courage to pull off. He talks shit to the other contestants far beyond what’s considered “sportsmanlike”--and Eli can tell he’s not holding back, with the theatrical body language channeling every awful thing he’s saying.

Demetri fights like lightning--he weaves and maneuvers and strikes at breakneck speed, a limber, flashing form hitting all across his opponent’s bodies before they have any idea what’s happening. He dodges hits and jumps aside like he has some cosmic sense of when and where they’re coming. And it scares Eli, seeing a viciousness and relentlessness in Demetri that he’s never encountered before--but somehow, he finds, he just can’t look away.

Season 2

After the tournament, Demetri’s life has never been better. At the summer’s start, he’s still riding the high of the Cobra Kai tournament win. He didn’t take home the trophy, but suffice to say he got much farther than anyone believed a scrawny, lanky nerd ever would, and he is incredibly smug about it. He realizes, at the end of the day, he’s gotten what he always wanted after all--the bullies don’t come near him and Eli at all, and he can rest easy, knowing Eli is finally safe. However, he’s so busy embracing his new skills that at times, he almost forgets that was ever even an issue. His newfound fighting prowess has caught the attention of Yasmine, of all people--maybe someone who can throw kicks that good isn’t as much of a loser as she originally thought.

She finds out after her family’s plans to go to France for the summer fall through, and she finally patches things up with Moon after their fallout at the beach party. Moon can’t stop gushing about how amazing Demetri was at the tournament--both she and her new friend Eli (who Yasmine definitely thinks seems like a weirdo, but hey--maybe if Moon thinks he’s worth her time, he can’t be that much of a loser) were so impressed with him. Interest piqued, Yasmine joins their little but ever-growing group. She finds herself quickly drawn in by Demetri’s ever-growing confidence, intelligence, and surprisingly enjoyable (if somewhat annoying) sense of humor, and before long, the two are dating.

Yasmine and Aisha are...cool. Kind of. Yasmine doesn’t quite apologize, and the two aren’t friends by any stretch of imagination, but they tolerate each other, and Yasmine refrains from making awful comments and picking on Aisha in front of their friends. Aisha, for her part, does her best not to lash out or be mean to Yasmine either, keeping the peace mainly for Demetri’s and Moon’s sakes.

Meanwhile, it would take an idiot not to notice the rather starstruck looks Eli’s been shooting in Moon’s direction. Moon, for her part, is either entirely oblivious or simply doesn’t even think to consider a shy, timid, nerdy kid as a romantic option, even if she does consider him a friend.

Oddly, Demetri finds himself extremely bothered by Eli’s doe-eyed crush on Moon. He really can’t place why--he has a girlfriend already, so it really shouldn’t bug him so much that Eli is finally growing noticably interested in girls too, now that they tend to be in closer proximity. And it’s not even like Moon seems to be at all interested in reciprocating. Maybe, he figures, it’s the fact that Moon never would have even looked their way if it weren’t for the fact that he and Miguel and Aisha were the “Cool Karate Gang.” The same karate gang, of course, that Eli quit. That Eli didn’t have it in him to fully be a part of. And yet here he is, reaping the benefits still.

Interestingly, Yasmine also seems bothered by Eli’s affections for her friend. Demetri feels her stiffen beside him and sees her shooting disapproving looks whenever she catches Eli staring at Moon. Demetri isn’t sure why she seems to take issue with this too--perhaps she thinks Moon is too good for Eli, and her friend deserves better than a shy, awkward nerd.

Something about this mindset very much rubs Demetri the wrong way, but he pushes the feeling aside. Maybe he should count his blessings instead of being so inwardly critical of his girlfriend. After all, not everyone gets to date the hottest girl in school.

The day of Valley Fest arrives, and Yasmine goes to support her boyfriend. Moon and Eli tag along, eager to support their friends as well. Caught up in the thrill of the blaring music, the bright, flashing lights, the audience cheering, Demetri feels a wave of pride as he looks at his little group of friends that came for him, yelling and whooping and jumping up and down. For some reason, he finds his gaze drawn specifically to Eli, wearing a grin bigger than Demetri’s seen in months and eyes absolutely glowing.

Suddenly Demetri feels an overpowering urge to wrap Eli up in this world he’s fallen in love with, immerse him entirely in the karate that’s made Demetri feel so much more happy and free in the past several months. Grinning, he strides forward and reaches down, using the absurd upper body strength he’s built up since he’s started karate to yank Eli up onto the stage. He hands his best friend a wooden board and steps back, racing forward and snapping it in half with a jumping roundhouse kick. For a few seconds, Eli can do nothing but stare at the broken board, something shifting inside of him.

After that, Eli decides maybe it’s time to give karate another go. Something about the way Demetri positively shone onstage--how genuinely happy all of it seemed to make him--makes him thing it can’t be so bad, even if he does get taunted for his lip again.

He stops by the dojo the following week, gathering up every ounce of courage he has to ask that mean blonde man how he goes about joining the dojo again. He’s hoping against hope that maybe, after all these months of teaching students and a tournament win under his belt, the edge of his pathetic cruelty will at least have been taken off.

No such luck. Upon seeing Eli walk into the dojo, Johnny greets him with “Hey, Lip is back! Real world not treat you as nicely as you thought?” The two are, regrettably, completely alone in the dojo. Eli sucks in his breath--Demetri isn’t around, so if anyone is going to defend him, it’ll have to be him himself.

“Could you please not call me that?” His voice shakes as he says it, but nonetheless, he finishes the statement. It occurs to him that not once in his (admittedly brief) stay in Cobra Kai did he simply...request that Sensei Lawrence not call him Lip. Demetri’s approach was always to get angry about it, go off on the sensei about how wrong it was to mock someone’s appearance, but Eli himself had never been the one to make a case for Sensei Lawrence to treat him better.

It hardly helped. Sensei Lawrence just claimed that if he didn’t want him to call him Lip, he shouldn’t have a freaky lip, and then went on to claim whoever did his cleft lip surgery must have done an awful job. Eli attempted to move away from the topic, but Sensei Lawrence didn’t let up. “It’s hard to when it’s right in front of me. Hard to believe Demetri was so willing to defend you like some knight in shining armor or some shit. You’re pathetic.” Having heard enough, Eli storms out, anger overtaking him. How could he have been so stupid, to think this was going to go any better? Why did he think that just because this man had been willing to help Miguel and Demetri (who were normal) become badass meant he would extend the same treatment to the freak with the lip scar?

Eli calls Demetri in tears. “I don’t know how you can train with someone like him,” Eli spits out. “He’s a shit person, Demetri. I--I don’t know what you and Miguel are thinking. It’s like he gets some kind of...I don’t know, sadistic pleasure out of bullying people. He’s not any better than the people he claims he’s trying to help you fight.”

Demetri, to his horror, reacts only with scorn, scoffing and rolling his eyes. “God, all this drama because he was mean about your lip again? Jesus christ, grow a backbone, Eli. I hate to say it, but I think Mr. Lawrence was right--if you can’t even handle someone making some insensitive comments about your scar, how are you going to handle an elbow to the teeth? Or any training more intensive than a slap on the wrist, anyway?”

Eli can do nothing but just stare at him through the screen. Demetri, the one person who he has always been able to count on to not comment on his scar, the one person who has always comforted him or talked him through it when he cried, is brushing him completely off--being an asshole about the one thing Eli was certain he never would be. Why is Demetri, of all people, not taking his side on this?

All Eli knows for sure is that he doesn’t like this new version of Demetri one bit. What happened to the best friend who was always willing to fight for him, no matter what it took? Now, he seems more concerned with looking cool and tough and upkeeping some kind of ridiculous reputation than Eli’s own well-being.

Over the next few days, a rage he didn’t know he even had in him bubbles up inside Eli. He decides if Demetri’s going to play dirty, so is he. And maybe, if Eli plays his cards right, the old Demetri will come back.

Despite his long-standing frustration with the way adults treat him--delicately, condescendingly, like a Thing of Pity--Eli figures he can get some use out of it for once. If this is the only way they’re going to see him regardless, he might as well use it to his advantage. And so he goes crying to his mom, who he knows for a fact other adults talk about being a “valued member of the community” and probably has some influence and some strings she can pull. He bawls to her about how his best friend has turned into an unrecognizable jerk, all because he’s training with a middle-aged man with the mindset of a high school bully who has no issue verbally abusing his students. Sure enough, discussions are had with the Neighborhood Committee, phone calls are placed, and Eli overhears his mother vowing to shut down that degenerate karate place if it’s the last thing she ever does.

Meanwhile, back at the dojo, Kreese makes an announcement. The elderly, intimidating man has recently teamed up with Johnny to teach--and he gives Demetri the creeps, if he’s honest, but he seems to know his stuff when it comes to karate, so Demetri goes along with this new addition to the sensei roster. However, when Johnny goes off to visit his high school friends and leaves the kids alone with the new Sensei, Demetri can’t help but feel uneasy.

“Now, the dojo’s been getting some concerned phone calls,” Kreese says, arms crossed and expression difficult to read. He doesn’t seem to be angry--if anything, he looks faintly amused. “Parents of the local teenagers are worried. They think Cobra Kai is full of bullies. Think our methods are...abusive, even. They want to shut us down.” Worried murmurs start to echo around the room, but Kreese silences them as he goes on. “Oh, don’t worry. It won’t be a problem. I have my ways of talking people down. We know better, anyhow. They’re just...intimidated by us, because we’ve honed skills here they couldn’t even dream of having. But nonetheless...” Kreese smirks in a way that makes Demetri feels ever-so-slightly unnerved. “If you run into one of your little peers whining to your parents about getting rid of us, well...show them Cobra Kai can’t be messed with so easily.”

And suddenly Demetri’s seething, because he knows exactly who made sure those phone calls got made.

Eli, for all his timidness, is notoriously smart. Demetri knows this intimately. He’d hardly put it past Eli to be this cunning, to manipulate the pitying adults around him to get what he wants.

When the Cobra Kai kids take a trip to the mall later that day, Demetri knows exactly where Eli will be. Every Wednesday, a new issue of Dungeon Lord comes out--they used to go get it together, but since getting into karate, Demetri hasn’t been keeping up. Demetri would figure someone like Eli wouldn’t have the balls to go out in public alone, if not for the fact that he knew how invested Eli was in the current plot.

And so Demetri heads to the comic book store, a group of reluctant Cobra Kai “pledges” in tow. Maybe it’s a bit sadistic, but he likes having someone to be able to boss around--it feels nice to be at the top of the food chain for once. Lord knows it’s the first time that’s happened. And if he isn’t going to milk that tournament win for all it’s worth, then what even is the point?

When Demetri arrives, Eli turns to look at him in confusion. “What are you doing here?” he says, lip curling slightly. “I figured you were too tough for this kind of stuff now.”

Demetri just scoffs and crosses his arms. “Well, Mr. Kreese said the dojo’s been getting some calls from weepy parents concerned we’re bullying their poor kids. Saying our Senseis must be some evil, abusive monsters twisting and corrupting the neighborhood teenagers. So I think you know exactly why I’m here.”

Eli just looks at him with a doe-eyed innocence that makes his blood boil. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Demetri advances on him, eyes flashing. “Don’t bullshit me, Eli. I know you’ve been meddling.”

To his surprise, Eli looks up to meet his gaze evenly, pretense of naiveté completely gone. “And what if I have? I don’t like the influence they’re having on you.”

Well, Demetri doesn’t know what that’s supposed to mean, but he doesn’t like it. “What is it about Cobra Kai that’s got you in such a tiffy, huh? You’re jealous I found a way to fight back and actually protect us? You don’t like that I’m not a pathetic loser you can look down your nose at anymore?”

Eli just looks at him in bewilderment. “Jesus, no, that’s not it at all, dude. Just...do you even hear yourself? You’ve turned into such an asshole since you started all that karate shit. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore. You walk around thinking you’re hot shit and everyone has to bow down to you all because your dojo won some stupid tournament. Well, news flash, Demetri--nobody cares.”

The callous way Eli, of all people, says it can’t help but throw him off. Is that really what his best friend thinks about him now--that he’s just some arrogant prick strutting around flaunting his success?

And then Demetri remembers how he got here--what it was that pushed him to be such a hard-assed fighter in the first place--and he feels a wave of venom coarse through him so powerful that he nearly chokes on it. Before he knows it he’s grabbing Eli by the shoulders and shoving him up against the wall.

“You fucking ungrateful brat,” he spits out, his words poison. “I did it all for you, you know. Everything I did was so that I could finally protect you. And this is how you thank me? After I’ve been getting my ass kicked over and over again so you wouldn’t have to worry about bullies anymore?”

Eli is surprisingly unfazed. “And where was I when you were learning to be such a good protector, Demetri? Getting shit on as a tool to motivate you? Nobody bothering to check how I felt about that? A real good bodyguard you turned out to be.”

“And yet Kyler and his little posse haven’t bothered you once. Who do you think that’s thanks to?”

“Miguel too. You don’t get all the credit. And anyhow, not like it matters when your Senseis would just as soon take the same cheap shots.”

Demetri just curls his lip. “Don’t get mad at me because you were too weak to survive Cobra Kai. Because...what, a middle-aged karate teacher hurt your feelings? I’d like to see how you go about taking a real fist to the jaw.”

Demetri raises a fist as if to demonstrate. Eli flinches, anger and defiance suddenly completely gone as his eyes widen in horror.

“You’d actually hurt me?” he asks softly.

Demetri slowly lowers his fist, realizing the answer as soon as he sees the terrified look in his friend’s eyes.

“Consider this your warning, Eli,” he spits out, with as much venom as he can manage. “Don’t mess around with Cobra Kai, or things are going to get ugly.” He smirks--a little sadistically, he has to admit. “You saw the tournament. Well...you’d better believe that’s the least of what I can do.”

When a downtrodden Eli shows up at Daniel LaRusso’s front door, timidly requesting to learn karate, far be it from Daniel to turn away a new student. Eli’s sob story about how he’s being bullied and threatened by his best friend only makes the new sensei more determined to take him under his wing--Daniel is no stranger to bullying, after all.

The next time Cobra Kai goes on an outing to the mall, Demetri catches Eli in the food court, eating with Samantha LaRusso and that kid whose ass he kicked at the tournament--Robby Keene, was his name? Mr. Lawrence’s kid. This seems...odd. How would Eli have met them?

An unexpected wave of jealousy rips through him. How did shy little Eli manage to make other friends? Let alone with an ex popular girl, of all people. Nonetheless, he figures this might be a good time to make sure his ex-friend isn’t trying to start any more shit with Cobra Kai.

He catches Eli in the deli line, sliding up behind him and purring, “Oh, I hope you haven’t been poking your nose where it doesn’t belong, have you, Eli?”

Eli turns and glares at him with a venom Demetri didn’t know the other boy had in him. “Why, Demetri? Scared your precious Cobra Kai is going to lose all its coolness cred if it gets out how shitty you all are?”

Demetri seethes with anger again, and before he knows it, he’s shoving Eli out of the line and ramming him up against one of the pillars on the edge of the food court. The crowd of eaters around them “Oooooh”s, but Demetri ignores them. He raises a fist again, fully prepared to follow through this time. “I’d watch your mouth, if I were you.”

Eli just curls his lip, more defiant than Demetri’s ever seen him. “You don’t scare me, Demetri. I know who you really are.”

The Cobra Kai pledges start to loom behind them, ready to provide Demetri with backup if needed. Eli notices and scoffs. “Wow, siccing your goons on me too? Way to set up a fair fight, Demetri. You’re so badass.”

Struck by a sudden desire to prove him wrong, Demetri socks Eli in the jaw before he can think better of it. He pauses afterwards, momentarily shaken by what he’s done.

To his dismay, Eli’s horrified shock is short lived before he laughs darkly. “Well, you’re not the only one who knows karate now. I joined Miyagi-Do.”

Demetri just scoffs. Ah yes, a little karate training and Eli, of all people, is going to kick some major ass. “All right then. Let’s see what you got.” He takes a step back, allowing Eli to try and get a hit in.

When the fight breaks out in full force, it’s vicious. Eli throws the first hit, but it’s weak--he’s out of practice since abandoning Cobra Kai. Demetri has him on the ground in seconds, throwing punches and kicks with a speed and rage he had no idea he had. Eli barely has time to get up before he’s getting his ass handed to him.

What Demetri doesn’t count on is Eli’s new dojomates coming to his rescue, getting the smaller boy behind them and executing a near-perfect synchronized fighting routine. Even with his lackeys helping him, Demetri is completely annihilated--nearly unconscious on the food court floor within minutes. The last thing he sees before he passes out is Eli staring down at him, blue eyes wide with horror.

When word of the incident at the mall gets back to Moon, shit hits the fan--to put it lightly. Yasmine is with Moon when she confronts Demetri, but she doesn’t say anything--just stands glaring with her arms crossed while Moon goes off at him. “How could you treat Eli like that? He’s your friend!”

“Not anymore.” Demetri curls his lip. “He joined Miyagi-Do. He’s made it pretty clear where his loyalties lie now, and it’s not with me.”

“Who cares about Miyagi-Do?” She retorts. “He’s still your friend! Our friend! And I don’t like the way you’re bullying him.”

Demetri scoffs. “Don’t you get it? He’s just a pathetic nerd who can’t handle the fact that I’m cooler than him now. All he wants to do is drag me down to his level again, I guarantee it.”

Moon’s gaze is more poisonous than he’s ever seen it. She turns to Yasmine. “Tell him, Yas,” she says, her tone dangerously quiet.

Yasmine sighs. She says--with notable hesitation, Demetri notices--“If you don’t stop bullying Eli, we’re through.”

Thrown off, Demetri laughs harshly. “What do you care? You don’t even like Eli! I see those...disgusted looks you shoot in his direction, when you think we won’t notice.”

Yasmine bites her lip. ���That doesn’t matter. Moon is my best friend. If she’s not okay with this whole...thing, then neither am I.”

“You’re not fucking serious. You’re dumping me because your bleeding-hearted friend told you I wasn’t being nice enough to a guy you can’t stand?”

Yasmine pauses, but ultimately stands her ground. “I’m sorry, but if it’s between you and Moon, it’s going to be Moon. So her word goes. So either stop with this whole stupid feud with Eli, or we’re finished.”

“I...” Demetri can only stare at her, shocked. He never could have imagined getting this ultimatum...and yet here he is.

He must have hesitated a second too long, because Moon grabs Yasmine’s arm and starts to pull her away. “I think that’s all the answer we need,” Moon hisses.

“Wait!” he called helplessly after them. Yasmine turns around once as she walks away, but only to spit “It’s over!” over her shoulder. As if for good measure.

Kreese finds Demetri circling a punching bag in the back of the dojo, spinning around it and throwing kicks and punches faster than cobra strikes. Seizing his opportunity, he advances. “What’s wrong, son?”

Demetri turns, tensing. He’s still wary of the man, but to hell with it--it’s not like he has anyone else to talk to. “Fight broke out with Miyagi-Do, and we lost. Pathetic, I know. Please don’t rub it in.”

“Cheer up.” Kreese smirks. “The fight isn’t over until you say it is.”

Demetri just sighs. “No use going in for a rematch. They’re strong. I couldn’t take them again on my own.”

Kreese’s smirk widens. “You’re a smart kid. There are other ways to fight back, you know. You don’t always have to beat them into the ground.”

As he leaves, Demetri lets that sink in.

Well, Demetri is nothing if not tech-savvy. May as well make some use of that Yelp Elite status. He spends hours setting up dozens of sock puppet accounts, programming them to post terrible review after terrible review blasting everything he can think of about Miyagi-Do. The encouragement of violence in youth (Eli had technically punched first, hadn’t he?). The weak, subpar fighting style that broke down as soon as it was challenged by serious fighters. The pretentious, culture-appropriating sensei. Daniel LaRacist indeed.

During the Coyote Creek excursion, Demetri finds himself pitted against Miguel, fighting in the world’s most intense game of what essentially boils down to Capture the Flag. Demetri, about to get the better of Miguel, finds that he can’t help but gloat about his little online attack. Can’t be long before a one-star dojo goes out of business.

When Miguel seems to take issue with it, saying the whole thing is mean-spirited and over the top, Demetri can’t help but scoff. Miyagi-Do has been plenty clear in declaring war--their little battalion at the mall proved that. Demetri wishes Miguel wasn’t still too caught up in pining over Sam LaRusso to realize that.

Miguel, meanwhile, decides this dojo war of sorts is getting out of hand. It turns out Demetri isn’t the only tech-savvy student in Cobra Kai--Miguel designed their website, after all. With a little bit of basic internet coding and some rudimentary hacking, he manages to access the sock puppet accounts Demetri made and take the bad reviews down. He even goes so far as to go over to the Miyagi-Do dojo and personally apologize for how Cobra Kai has been acting, telling Robby Keene that he found out who blasted the bad reviews and took them all down. “We’re not all assholes.”

Come Moon’s end-of-summer party, Demetri is surprised to get an invitation. He hasn’t seen her or Yasmine since they both chewed him out, and Yasmine ended things. But perhaps this is a show of good faith. Maybe Moon wants to be friends again--and maybe that means Yasmine’s come to her senses too, and might be willing to talk things out.

Moon welcomes him when he arrives, previous animosity gone for the moment. “Hey, thank you for inviting me. I’m...sorry,” he starts. “Of how we left things off. I was an ass to you and Yas.” “It’s alright,” Moon replies cheerily. “I invited you because...well, I’m hoping that before school starts, we can stop all the fighting and be friends again.”

His heart sinks as he sees Sam LaRusso lead a stream of kids through the door, Eli trailing at the end, and he realizes exactly what she means. The Miyagi-Dos are here.

He sits forlornly on a couch with Mitch and Aisha, thinking about how much worse this night just got. He brightens, however, when he sees a shock of blonde hair at the door not long after. So Yasmine came after all.

Moon grins in delight, calling over to her. Taking a breath, Demetri stands up and approaches the two girls, determined to smooth things over with them both.

He’s not surprised to see Yasmine make a beeline for Moon, not noticing him for the moment. What he isn’t expecting is for Moon to sweep Yasmine into her arms, kissing her full on the mouth.

Demetri stops in his tracks. The girls turn to him a few seconds later, seeming to notice him for the first time. They look at him expectantly, as though waiting for him to finish walking over to them. Or say something, and not just stand there gawking stupidly.

“Uh...are you two...um...like...uh...” All he can do is shuffle closer and gesture abstractly, not able to find words. Yasmine blushes and looks away, while Moon tucks a hair behind her ear, her smile strained.

“Yeah. It’s new,” she admits, laughing nervously. “We’re, um...”

“Girlfriends?” Yasmine offers, looking up and smiling at Moon with uncharacteristic shyness. Demetri can’t help but bristle--shyness she never showed him.

Well, far be it from him to be judgmental. Even if Yasmine broke his damn heart just now, Moon is still his friend. He gives them a strained smile. “That’s...that’s great! Happy for you two. No shame in uh...trying out something like that.”

Demetri excuses himself and sulks back to the now-empty couch, mind racing as he sits down. Is that why Moon was trying to encourage Yasmine to break up with him? Was it even about Eli at all? Did Moon just want Yasmine for herself? It seemed unlike Moon, but who could say?

And Yasmine...had she always wanted Moon, too? Is that why she seethed every time she saw Eli shooting lovestruck glances at her friend?

...had she even ever liked Demetri at all, or was he just a cover-up for the fact that she was...lesbian? How was someone as feminine and fashionable as Yasmine a lesbian, anyways? All the lesbians Demetri saw on tv cut their hair boyishly short and had about 5 nose rings and walked around in leather jackets and combat boots.

His thoughts are interrupted by the last sweatered boy he wants to see taking a seat at the other side of the couch, glancing nervously at him with darting eyes. What did Eli want? And why was he so nervous? He’d been unduly bold as of late.

“You seen the new Doctor Who trailer?” Eli mutters.

Something about the nonchalant way he says it--like this is the olden days, when Demetri always felt like shit about himself and had no one who tolerated him but Eli--makes Demetri’s blood boil. He scoffs. “I have better things to do than watch nerd crap like that.”

A short silence. “Capaldi regenerated,” Eli offers finally. “I know you weren’t big on 12.”

No more Capaldi? Demetri turns to look at Eli, interest suddenly piqued.

“What’s the new doctor like?” he asks before he can stop himself.

Eli grins. “She’s a badass.”

“She?” Demetri finds himself grinning back. “How progressive of them. Welcome to the 21st century, Doctor Who.”

A sudden giggling catches his attention, and Demetri looks to where Yasmine and Moon are sharing a chair across the room, tangled up in each other’s arms and trading soft kisses like they don’t have a care in the world. He tenses.

Eli seems to sense his discomfort, and sighs. “Hey, I’m sorry, man. If it helps at all, I liked Moon a lot, too.”

Demetri just scoffs. “Yeah, but I guess it doesn’t matter now. They just have to be gay, right?”

Eli gives him a strange look. Demetri shuffles uncomfortably, realizing what he’s probably thinking about. The...incident, 4 years ago. Demetri glares at him, hoping to banish the thought before it arrives. None of that meant anything--they were just dumb kids. Dumb kids doing dumb shit that didn’t matter.

“I don’t know, I mean...if they’re happy together, shouldn’t we just be happy for them?”

Eli reaches out and squeezes his shoulder, and Demetri hesitates. Their special touch. Eli still remembers, even after everything that’s happened.

For a moment he’s overcome with longing, wishing things with Eli could just go back to how they used to be. Back when he knew no matter what hell he went through at school, Eli would always be there to pick him back up again. But then it sinks in what Eli’s really trying to say.

Be happy for them. What a bunch of Miyagi-Do bullshit. Just accept his sad little lot in life, just like he used to do. Go back to nerdy little Eli at the bottom of the food chain, doomed to spend the rest of his youth admiring pretty girls from a vast distance.

He never wants that to be him again.

“Oh, fuck you, Eli,” he spits, grabbing Eli’s hand and yanking it off of his shoulder. Eli freezes, looking like he’s just been slapped.

“What, so I’m supposed to do like you, moping and pining and hoping a pretty girl will look my way if I wish hard enough and just sucking it up when she doesn’t? Well, I’ve had plenty enough of that--I’ve been on the top. And I’m going to be on the top again. But you? You’ll always be pathetic--you and your entire sorry excuse for a dojo.”

He gets up and walks away, bristling with an anger he can’t even fully place anymore.

As Eli watches Demetri go, he realizes he’s finally had enough. Demetri doesn’t want to patch things up? He just wants to keep being an arrogant shithead? Fine. But Eli’s not about to take his prodding and insults anymore.

Eli makes his way over to Moon--still his friend, despite the unreciprocated feelings--and Yasmine, strikes up a conversation with them. Yasmine, he notices, is being notably nicer to him--probably at Moon’s request. They get to talking about sexualities, and Eli accidentally lets a little something slip about Demetri.

When they were 12 years old, they had kissed. It was Eli who suggested they practiced kissing, to get ready for all the girls they would inevitably date. However, a bit of choice wording and it sounded like Demetri had planted one on Eli out of nowhere...and Eli, of course, hadn’t liked it one bit, because he was totally straight. “You can’t tell anyone, though,” he pleaded the girls, big sad eyes every bit as convincing as he had hoped. “Demetri doesn’t want it to get out that he’s...you know. Gay. He’s worried it’ll ruin his reputation.”

Moon nods sincerely, but Eli can tell from the almost imperceptible smirk on Yasmine’s face that she has other plans. If there’s one thing he’s learned about Demetri’s ex over the last few months, it’s that even trying to be a better person, she can’t resist a good bit of juicy gossip.

And from what Eli gathers...two girls dating? No problem, as long as they’re hot and popular. At least creepy guys can fetishize it. But guys liking other guys? Now that...Eli has a feeling that won’t go over well.

As soon as Eli excuses himself, Yasmine gets to work. A few whispers at the snack table when Moon isn’t looking, and news of Demetri’s supposed orientation spread like wildfire.

Demetri, meanwhile, is determined to prove Eli wrong. So what if Yas doesn’t want him anymore (or never did, the mean voice in his head keeps prodding)? He’ll find another hot girl to have on his arm. He’s a top Cobra Kai fighter, after all--it’s not like it’ll be difficult.

He saunters over to a group of girls, leaning up against the wall in what he thinks has to be a very suave way. “Hey ladies,” he says. “Name’s Demetri. I’m sure you’ve heard about me--seasoned Cobra Kai fighter, finalist in the All-Valley tournament. But no need to be intimidated--if any of you beautiful ladies ever need a hand with anything, I’ll--”

“Take it off of the nearest dick to help us out?” one of the girls cuts him off. They all break out in snickers. “No thanks.”

Demetri freezes. Why would they think...?

Then he realizes there’s only one person who could have made them think he was into that sort of thing.

He tenses. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but--”

“We’ve heard all we need to,” another girl says, eyeing him up in disgust. “Not interested in getting it on with someone who’s probably had his cock up another guy’s ass, to be blunt. Gross.” Before Demetri can say another word, the girls are gone, turning and slinking hurriedly off into the crowd.

Every time Demetri tries his luck with another girl, he gets similar rebuffs. And every time, he seethes a little more. Fucking figured--timid little Eli couldn’t take the fact that Demetri had worked up the confidence to win over a girl and he hadn’t, so he had to ruin Demetri’s chances with every other girl so he’d feel better.

Besides, Demetri remembers that day from 4 years ago. He remembers that Eli was just as into...all the stuff they did.

Unfortunately, before Demetri has a chance to go over and confront Eli about the whole business, the cops show up. He’ll just have to wait until school, he figures.

Meanwhile, word gets back to Sam that Miguel showed up at her door, apologizing and promising he took all the bad reviews down--apparently Robby didn’t relay any of this to her. When Miguel admits to Demetri about the drunken kiss, Demetri chuckles, slapping him on the back. “My man! Trying to build up a whole harem here, are we?”

Miguel sighs, looking sullen. “I cheated, dude. That’s shitty.”

And then comes the PA announcement. Tory Nichols is starting shit, and Demetri can’t pretend he’s not intrigued to see where this goes.

As soon as the fight breaks out, Demetri is overcome with adrenaline. He whips through the crowd, spinning and throwing kicks and punches like explosive flashes. All he can think of is Eli, Eli, little Eli...oh, when he finds him, there’s going to be hell to pay.

And it doesn’t take long--of course Eli is the one who tries to pull a teacher in to stop the fight. The fucking wimp.

When Eli makes a run for it, Demetri can’t help but smirk when he leads him straight to the computer lab. How very typical, for someone whose hero is Steve Jobs. He grins, something frighteningly sadistic bubbling up inside of him.

For a second it almost scares him, how badly he wants to drive his foot into Eli’s chest.

“Little Eli Moskowitz!” he taunts, before he can stop himself. “Cowering away in the computer lab, just like the little nerd he is. Can’t hide forever, outer. I know damn well what you told them about me.”

He tries door after door, continuing in a singsong voice as he goes. “Oh dear me, what would they say if they knew you enjoyed it too, Eli? Well, I guess they won’t believe me now. But I know. I know you’re no better than me.”

Ever since they were kids, Demetri has been the speedier one. They used to race across the playground at recess, pretending to be Quicksilver and the Flash, but Demetri always came out ahead. Long, gangly legs tended to do that. So when Eli turns to see Demetri in the doorway, and he makes a run for it, he doesn’t get far.

Demetri grabs Eli around the waist and throws him against the wall, whipping kicks and hits into his stomach and thighs faster than he can block. Demetri hardly notices the bruises forming, or the bleeding cuts.

It’s then that Eli does something Demetri doesn’t expect--flips the script, as it were. As Demetri reaches out to strike again, Eli surges forward and grabs him by the shoulders, flipping him around and pinning him against the wall. Maybe Miyagi-Do specializes in defense, but they still taught him how to throw a good hit or two. He throws defense to the wayside and starts raining punches down on Demetri--sloppy, uncoordinated, but something the “Strike First” Cobra Kai student is entirely unprepared to defend.

When his chest is stinging and his head throbbing, Demetri can’t take anymore. Eli was a lot more...well, powerful than he expected. At his first opportunity, he turns and books it. Maybe this isn’t a fight he can win after all.

Eli doesn’t chase. As angry as he still is at Demetri, he can’t stop thinking about the mars and bruises and cuts that appeared across Demetri’s face and skin as he punched him, mirroring his own, and he feels sick. He can’t hurt Demetri anymore, no matter what Demetri thinks of him now.

Demetri just makes it to the staircase when he sees Miguel motionless on the floor, Robby Keene looking over the railing. Sam LaRusson hovering over him. He runs to Miguel’s side, world crumbling around him.

Turns out he showed mercy, just like Mr. Lawrence always said to. And look where it got him. When John Kreese offers him a place in a new Cobra Kai, determined to make the Miyagi-Dos pay for hurting Miguel, Demetri isn’t about to say no.

In his grief, it seems like the only option.

Season 3

On the first day back at school, Mitch is quick to remind Demetri that there are other girls in the world besides Yasmine. Surely it won’t be too hard to work his charms on some of the freshmen--after all, word about that little incident with Eli when they were 12 can’t have gotten across the entire school, can it?

“Well, hello, ladies!” he purrs to a passing group, leaning against the wall in the most nonchalant way possible. “Welcome to West Valley High. I know freshman year can be intimidating, high school classes and new people and all, but if you ever need help with anything, I’m--”

“--the scrawny little gay kid who ran his pussy ass away from the world’s easiest fight?” one of the girls finishes scornfully. “Yeah, we know.”

As they walk away, he notices one shoot a flirty smile at a passing Eli, surrounded by his squad of Miyagi-Do losers. “Ooooh, you’re famous now, E!” he hears Chris say, and his blood boils all over again.

Ah. So everyone knew about Eli’s little triumph.

Mitch saunters over, and Demetri follows his lead. “Got something to say?!” he snaps.

Demetri’s eyes lock with Eli’s, and he glowers down at him. Eli’s face is tight, expression almost...sad.

Not like he’d expect anything less from that little crybaby.

“Oh, little Eli,” he chides. “I’d like to see you try and hide behind security.”

“I don’t need to,” Eli mutters, not breaking eye contact.

“Everything all right here?”

At the sound of the counselor’s voice, Eli does something unexpectedly bold. He sidles up to Demetri’s side and presses into it, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “No, Counselor Blatt, we’re all friends here!” he says, offering that shy little Eli smile that made every adult in a nearby vicinity go mad with protectiveness.

Eli’s arm is tight around his neck--like a chokehold. But, Demetri notices after a few moments, it’s shaking--the grip almost frantic. Like he’s scared of when he’ll have to let go.

Odd.

Demetri turns, and his and Eli’s eyes lock. He tries to give the shorter boy the most intense, seething glare he can under his forced smile, but Eli returns the look with equal intensity. Demetri jostles his backpack his backpack and thumps him on the chest, feeling an odd compulsion to touch his old friend right back.

Maybe he missed feeling Eli’s body underneath him. But that wasn’t a thought he could afford to spend a lot of brainpower on right now. “Yeah!” he says. Of course we’re still friends! Of course you didn’t fuck up my love life and humiliate me to the entire school because you couldn’t handle the fact that I was getting some and you weren’t!

When the counselor chides them about having somewhere to be, Eli just nods, murmuring, “Yeah, of course, Counselor Blatt. Sorry.”

As Eli pulls away, he pats Demetri’s shoulder a couple times. Small, almost imperceptible, but there.

Demetri can’t tell if it’s serious--if Eli still cares--or if it’s just a cruel mockery of their old touch. He’s not sure he wants to know.

When Demetri runs into Samantha LaRusso in the hospital and she insists she wants to help, he hardly expects a whole fucking fundraiser gleefully using Miguel as their poster child. As though the Miyagi-Dos weren’t the ones who put him in the hospital in the first place. When he catches a glimpse of the carwash while driving Mitch to practice, he decides he’s going to do something about it.

Beating up the kid is an easy fight, getting the money with Mitch and the others a sinch. Maybe at some point he would’ve felt bad for this--pummeling some short kid and then taking his charity money. But all he can think of is Miguel, his best friend, lying in a white gown and hooked up to wires. Because of this kid and his stupid “peaceful” dojo.

Peaceful, Demetri’s ass.

When Demetri walks into the cafeteria the following Monday, he’s not sure what he expects to see at Yasmine and Moon’s table, the place where he would be sitting, under different circumstances--but it definitely is not Eli Moskowitz with his hair dyed bright blue and spiked up. Miyagi-Do blue. Apparently all that coolness cred he felt he got from “scaring” Demetri off in the school brawl has gotten to his head, and he’s playing out his new “badassery” up to 11. He’s showing something to Yasmine and Moon, and they’re smiling and giggling. Yasmine, of all people, is smiling at nerdy little Eli’s antics.

Demetri squints, and sees that Eli’s showing the two girls a comic book--he recognizes the copy. It’s Eli’s limited edition Captain Marvel comic book, signed by Kelly Sue DeConnick herself. Demetri remembers standing in line with him at a con to get it a few years back--he’s pretty protective of the thing.

And now he’s using it to impress girls? Because apparently Yasmine and Moon are into that kind of thing? Oh, but of course Yasmine couldn’t be into nerd shit when DEMETRI was dating her, could she?

And those gooey eyes Moon is giving Eli, her little giggles--Demetri doesn’t like them one bit. What, now Eli’s worth her affections--now that his “nerdiness” is cool? Aren’t she and Yasmine a stupid item, anyways?

Deciding he’s going to put a stop to this, Demetri saunters over, lunch tray clutched so hard his knuckles are turning white. Before the group can react to his presence, Demetri picks up his chocolate milk carton and dumps it all over Eli’s stupid blue hair, making sure to get plenty on the rare comic book in front of him.

“Oh, I hope that wasn’t important, was it Eli?” he taunts, voice thick with mock sympathy. “That sure would be a shame.”

Eli turns to look at him, eyes wide with heartbroken shock. For a moment, the anger doesn’t set in.

“I had to wait in line 5 hours to get that,” he says quietly. “You know that.”

“Sure do.” Demetri smirks. “And it took all of 5 seconds to completely ruin. How tragic.”

Eli tenses, eyes darting around for a couple seconds. Demetri starts to walk away, his point made, when he feels an iron grip on his wrist. He turns to see Eli smirking at him, clutching his arm with more force than he ever thought possible from the once-timid boy.

“Careful there, Demetri,” Eli sneers. “Coming all the way across the cafeteria to bother me when you’ve got your cool Cobra Kai friends to hang out with? People might think you’re a little...obsessed with me.” Yasmine and Moon snicker, and Demetri bristles as he realizes the implication.

“Although I shouldn’t be surprised since you love obsessing over other boys, don’t you?” Eli goes on, like his point isn’t clear enough. “Y’know, I feel bad for Yasmine. I mean, any idiot could tell she used you as a beard, but I had no idea it was a mutual thing.”

Demetri tenses, willing himself not to lose his cool. “Really letting that little victory get to your head, aren’t you, Eli? Honestly, I was going easy on you. Now I know not to next time.”

It’s at that moment that Sam LaRusso decides to show up, sliding up next to Eli and glowering up at Demetri. “There won’t be a next time if I have anything to say about it,” she retorts.

Demetri can’t help but scoff. Of course Sam LaRusso would be all too eager to defend her little pet nerd now, even though she was all too happy to laugh at him with her mean girl friends a year ago. “I’m not scared of you,” he says. “Like you’d start any fight daddy couldn’t bail you out of. Or that doesn’t end with your ex boyfriend getting thrown over a railing because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”

It’s a low blow, but Demetri doesn’t care. It’s hard not to look at this girl and see part of the reason Miguel might never be able to walk again.

Sam LaRusso shoves him just as the godawful counselor is sauntering over, but to hell with it--maybe Demetri could spin this to his advantage.

“She hit me, Counselor Blatt!” he cries out, pointing at Sam. “Attacked and physically assaulted me, completely unprovoked!”

“That’s not true,” Eli mumbles, eyes darting. Flawlessly slipping back into the poor little Eli role in a way that never fails to make Demetri seethe. “It wasn’t unprovoked. He started all this by destroying my limited-edition comic book for no reason.”

Demetri puts on his most convincing remorseful face and sighs. “Look, that was an accident. I just tripped while I was walking and my milk spilled. Anyhow, if your book’s that valuable, you probably shouldn’t bring it into a school cafeteria where people are more than likely going to spill food on it.”

He’d like to see the dumb counselor argue with that.

“Look, I don’t want excuses. I just want you all to respect each other.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Demetri turns to give Eli a forced smile. “Nothing but 100% respect in this environment going forward, I assure you. Sorry if we caused any problems.”

Please, just anything to make her leave.

With one last warning to Sam LaRusso, the counselor is gone. Demetri turns to the two Miyagi-Dos and smirks.

“To hell with respect,” he sneers. “Your lot hardly deserve it.”

It doesn’t surprise Demetri when Eli and his little gang of Miyagi-Do losers decide to start shit in gym class. What he isn’t expecting is for Eli and his stupid blue hair to start running next to him--right after he’s tried and failed to catch Yasmine’s attention after scoring a goal.

He’s been thinking about her all morning--was Eli right about her? Did she only use him as a cover-up?

...would no one ever want to date him for him?

Well, maybe if he won Yasmine back, he could disprove that. If Moon was going to be hanging off of Eli’s arm before too long, chances were her and Yasmine’s relationship’s days were numbered.

Whatever Eli is about to say, Demetri can already tell it’s not going to help.

And it doesn’t. “Wow, Demetri. Few guys are so bad in a relationship that they manage to turn their girlfriend gay. I hope you feel accomplished.”

Demetri balls his fists. “Say that again. I dare you.”

“You really did have a good thing going with her,” Eli sighed, voice laced with condescending pity. “It’s a shame she decided she could do better than some belligerent Cobra Kai douchebag.”

And then suddenly Eli lunges for him and tackles him, knocking him to the ground just as easily as Demetri once did to Eli at the mall.

Not that it ended up mattering all that much--Demetri was able to talk the Cobra Kai’s way out of trouble in the principal’s office, just as he so often could. Nonetheless, it seemed Eli was hardly turning out to be as much of a pushover as he thought.

When Mitch and the guys invited Demetri to go to Golf N Stuff--fuck around for a bit, cause some mayhem--he wasn’t about to say no. The thrill took over, running around, snatching tickets and prizes away, throwing them in the trash--he almost felt as powerful as Kyler must have, all those months ago when he tossed the lesser kids’ backpacks in the garbage. Is this how it felt, to be on top? To have everyone else too scared to mess with you?

Because Demetri loved it.

What he wasn’t counting on was Sam LaRusso and her little posse arriving to confront them in the laser tag arena--including Eli, face hardened and ready to fight.

Things seemed to be going pretty poorly--that was, until Tory Nichols and the backup arrived. That reduced Sam LaRusso to a sniveling mess, and finally it looked like this would be an easy finish.

Demetri found himself only stalling for a second when the way cleared for him to go at Eli. Something about the sudden terror on the other boy’s face made him hesitate, but not for long. Eli threw a weak punch, and Demetri quickly flipped him onto the ground, pulling his arm up behind him.

“No, please, stop, Deme, stop! It’s me!”

Deme...

Eli’s old nickname for him.

Demetri pauses, and suddenly he feels sick. Deme...Eli’s nickname. Eli.

Wasn’t all of this for Eli? To protect Eli?

And now here he was, about to hurt him. The one thing he swore he was going to stop everyone else from doing.

And then comes the goading cries from Tory, Mitch, and the others. Do it! Finish him! He deserves it!

He deserves it.

And then Demetri remembers what happened to Miguel when he didn’t take his chance to finish the fight with Robby Keene. Suddenly Demetri’s running out of the end of a hallway again, seeing Miguel’s motionless body lying on the stairs, and the rage and horror and mind-numbing devastation hit him all over again.

“Demetri, finish him!”

In a split second, Demetri makes his decision. Eli’s arm snaps in half.

All it takes is one terrible, pained scream from Eli for Demetri’s entire world to come crashing down on him. What the fuck did he just do?

He can’t even hear the other Cobras, gleefully congratulating him and sneering at the “pussy” on the floor. All he can hear are Eli’s pained sobs.

He’d seen Eli cry before, but never like this. Never thanks to him.

When everyone congratulates him next practice, Demetri barely hears. He’s just numb. All he can see is Eli, curled up and crying on the dirty cement floor. When Tory tells him she didn’t think he was going to do it, all he can manage out is that Miyagi-Do had it coming for hurting Miguel.

And as if his week can’t get any worse, here come Kyler and his goons sauntering into the dojo like they own the damn place. Demetri does his best to convince Mr. Kreese this is by no means a wise idea, but the sensei will not hear of it.

When Kyler and Brucks realize who he is, it only makes Demetri more livid. “Oh shit, it’s the yogurt backpack kid! Lip’s little friend! I thought he moved away!” When a fighting ring is formed, giving the new recruits a chance to “earn their spot,” Demetri is all too ready for combat.

He’s horrified at how quickly Brucks takes down Mitch, how quickly his friend is ushered out the door. It was bad enough to see Bert go, but this...this is different.

He can’t remember the last time he’s felt more alone.

When Kyler steps forward, looking for an opponent, Demetri volunteers before anyone else can. Mr. Kreese shoots him a surprised look, but he doesn’t care. This fucko has been making his life hell for years--he can already tell this is going to be therapeutic.

Demetri doesn’t hold back. The fight has barely started before Kyler’s had enough. A few fast hits and his lip’s already bloody, and he’s backing away. “No...please stop...”

And suddenly Demetri’s back in the library, on that afternoon that seems like an eternity ago, watching Kyler grip Eli by the throat. Hearing him sneer “who would ever want to kiss THAT shit?” like Eli was the most disgusting thing he’d ever seen. Feeling absolutely powerless, hand clutching the back of a chair as he burned with rage that had nowhere to go.

Well, he wasn’t powerless now.

And before he knows it Demetri has Kyler pinned to the ground, landing punch after punch to his face. Because, he realizes, at the end of the day, who gives a fuck if Eli’s on the other side?

That’s still his Eli, even after everything. The same Eli he stood by for over 10 years, the same Eli who he wished so long that he could protect from everything, the same Eli who felt like he had to constantly hide a tiny red line on his face because his peers collectively decided--for no good reason at all--that it was ugly.

And maybe he couldn’t make those people hurt the way he wanted to then, but right now...well, he could hurt at least one. And that was enough.

He doesn’t stop until Kyler is practically pulverized and his hands are drenched in blood. After throwing his last punch, he smirks, leaning down to whisper into Kyler’s ear.

“Now who’d want to kiss THAT shit? That’s right, asshole--I remember.”

Demetri kicks Kyler’s limp form as he walks away. He shoots Brucks a glare as he falls back in line--just for good measure.

When Miguel comes back to school, Demetri’s one of the first to greet him at the door. “Cobra Kai’s still going strong! It’s going to be great to have you back!” He’s a little confused as to why Miguel seems so hesitant, but he doesn’t worry too much about it--they can sort through all that later.

Miguel’s certainly taken aback by the clunky cast he sees on Eli’s arm when he runs into him in the hall--but perhaps even moreso by the fact that he has both shamelessly dyed his hair blue and spiked it up in a mohawk and is currently walking the school hallways with Moon on his (unbroken) arm. As it turns out, once word got back to Moon that Yasmine was the one who had shamelessly whispered around the school about Demetri being gay, she had broken things off with her. And, with his new “coolness” upgrade, she’d taken quite a liking to Eli.

Not like she had any way of knowing he’d been planning on Yasmine’s cruel gossip, after all.

But the cast, Miguel quickly learns, has a much darker backstory than anything he could have expected.

He wastes no time confronting Demetri about it in the lunchroom. “I heard what happened with Eli. How could you do that?”

Demetri’s stomach clutches. He scowls, determined not to show his discomfort.

“Wow!” He scoffs. “We go to all the trouble of getting payback on those assholes for getting you thrown over that railing, and this is the thanks we get?”

Miguel shakes his head, horrified. “Dude, who cares what dojo Eli’s in? He’s our friend! And in any case, it’s not his fault what happened to me. What the hell were you thinking?”

I don’t know. I don’t know. Demetri’s face hardens. He can only imagine how angry Mr. Kreese would be with him if he caught him showing any kind of weakness. Any kind of second-guessing.

But he can’t help it. Glimpsing Eli in that cast for the first time...

“Look, the Miyagi-Dos were the ones who picked a fight with us,” Demetri retorts. “We just had to do what we had to so they’d back off and leave us alone. We had to finish the fight.”

Miguel pauses, looking pained. “This isn’t...this isn’t you, Demetri. You’re letting Kreese get in your head. He’s trying to manipulate you, get you to...obsess over revenge so you’ll hurt people. But I know you, and I know you don’t want to. Eli, or anyone else.”

Demetri clenches his fists. “What would you know about how I feel about Eli?”

“Look, I can’t claim I know what’s going on between you two,” Miguel amends. “But you have to believe me--Kreese is dangerous. He’s using you. He doesn’t care about you, Demetri. Just...come to Sensei Lawrence’s new dojo. Please. Things can be like they used to. You don’t have to be in this...this war.”

This gives Demetri pause. “He...made a new dojo?”

Okay, so he’s still not Mr. Lawrence’s biggest fan--the man is an asshole at the best of times. But to be able to train with Miguel again...to be able to be badass without being expected to be some soldier...

He can’t finish speaking before Brucks’s voice rings out through the cafeteria. “Look everyone, Lip’s got a dick in his hand!”

Demetri looks up to see Eli being held by the cast, eyes darting around as the entire cafeteria bursts into laughter. Involuntarily, Demetri bristles.

And there it is again, that feeling of being the helpless kid in the library as Eli’s taunted. And even after all this time...he still hates it.

Miguel turns to him, shaking his head. “So these are your friends now? I thought you were better than that.”

And just like that, Miguel’s gone. Gone from the Cobra Kai table, gone from Demetri’s life.

It makes him wonder if he’s making a huge mistake. But he knows he can’t back out now--not when he’s this far in. Who would even want to take him back? Probably not Miguel and Mr. Lawrence--despite what Miguel said, Demetri knows there’s no way he’s going to forgive him so easily for hurting their other friend. And certainly not Eli.

What makes it even worse is seeing Eli later that day, curled up against some lockers with Moon. Moon is tracing over his cast in colored sharpie, slowly transforming the dick pic into a beautiful landscape and night sky. Eli is bragging about how the arm-breaking didn’t hurt that bad.

Demetri remembers when that soft little smile was reserved only for him, and a pit starts to form in his stomach.

Well, no use bitching. You did this to yourself.

It seems like the world is out to just make Demetri’s existence in Cobra Kai as shitty as possible these days. Mitch and Bert are gone, Miguel isn’t coming back, Brucks is being a royal douchebag like always, and perhaps worst of all, Robby Keene shows up at the dojo. Demetri tries his damndest to appeal to Mr. Kreese about how outrageous this is--this is the kid who paralyzed Miguel in the fucking first place, what’s the point of dojo-wide revenge if they just take in the main culprit like an old buddy? But of course Mr. Kreese spouts some nonsense about how they need all the help they can get for the All-Valley, and sometimes you have to be allies with people you aren’t the biggest fans of, blah blah blah. To make matters worse, Tory--not a friend exactly, but probably the closest thing Demetri’s got to one left--is getting far too chummy with Robby for Demetri’s taste.

Maybe Demetri’s insane, but it seems like more and more ridiculous shit is being handwaved in the name of...what? Winning a karate tournament? Getting revenge for a kid who’s already recovered, and doesn’t even seem to want it?

When word gets back to Cobra Kai that Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang are teaming up, Kreese sends the students on a special mission: Show the other dojos that even with their combined forces, they’re no match for Cobra Kai. It seems like a waste of time to Demetri--why antagonize other dojos just minding their business? It’s not like there was anything worth fighting for in this dumb war anymore, considering Miguel was on his feet again (literally AND figuratively). Nonetheless, Demetri finds he’s itching for a good fight--it’s been way too long since he’s charged into a full-fledged battle.

Maybe this will help him get it out of his system, if nothing else.

When the fight breaks out at the LaRussos, it doesn’t take long for Demetri to be overtaken by the thrill of it. Just like he was at the school fight. Just like he was at the tournament. He’s zipping through the house, landing kicks and punches left and right. And it feels good. With everything having been so awful lately, he can’t remember the last time he’s felt more alive.

And then he lands a fierce kick, and Brucks chest-bumps him. “Hell yeah! kick some ass! Dumb losers never had a chance.”

Brucks. The same kid who laughed when he saw Eli starting to cry about the comments he made on his lip. The same kid claiming Kyler tossing his backpack into a yogurt-filled trash can was “brute.” And now here he was trying to be buddy-buddy with him.

Everything comes crashing down on Demetri at once.

Miguel’s speech, saying Kreese is manipulating him. Saying Kreese doesn’t care about him. Kreese cherry-picking what does and doesn’t count as vengeance--hurting Eli, someone who had nothing to do with Miguel’s fall, does, but teaming up with the kid responsible for said fall apparently does not. Demetri’s friends being booted from Cobra Kai one by one, just for not being strong enough.

The sound of Eli’s screams and sobs in a dark laser tag room.

Miguel was right, wasn’t he? Kreese never cared about getting payback for him. He only cared about starting a war for his own sadistic pleasures.

Demetri hears grunting and whimpering, and he looks up to see two of the other Cobras kneeing Eli in the chest over and over. Pinning him into an arm bar.

“Yo, ‘Mete!” one calls out. “Free shot!”

Eli looks up, gaze full of fear and pain. Bright blue irises glinting with welling tears.

Once upon a time, Demetri made a promise to himself that he would stick with karate, aggravating as it may be, so he would never have to see that look on Eli’s face again. It’s time, he figures, that he finally made good on that.

His face contorts into a snarl, and he runs to Eli. Eli closes his eyes and scrunches his face, bracing for a pain that never comes.

Demetri kicks one Cobra to the wayside and smashes the other into a glass table with perhaps more force and adrenaline than he’s used all night.

When he turns to Eli, the other boy backs away, eyes still wide with terror. Demetri feels sick to his stomach, and the tears come before he can stop them.

“God, Eli, I’m so sorry,” he splutters. “I’m so fucking sorry, for everything. I don’t know what I was thinking, and it was all so fucked up, and--”

“Demetri.”

“--I’ll never hurt you like that again, but if you don’t want anything to do with me now, I totally understand, and--”

“Demetri.”

“--I was so awful to you, and I didn’t listen to you, and I should’ve been there for you, and I’m such a piece of shit friend and--”

“DEMETRI!”

Finally Eli raises his voice enough that Demetri pauses. “...yeah, Eli?”

“Please stop talking. I forgive you. Now are you going to shut up and help me finish this?” He raises a hand, as if to initiate their old handshake. An olive branch.

Demetri grins so wide he thinks his face is going to break, and he grips Eli’s hand like a lifeline. Something to finally pull him out of the darkness. “Yeah.”

They’re a lethal fighting team. Between Demetri landing speedy hits and Eli protecting him and shielding them both with his bulked-up form (where did he get all that muscle? Demetri wonders), they dispatch half the Cobras in minutes. Whatever rush Demetri was feeling fighting when he first got here is nothing compared to fighting with Eli.

When they stop the fight between Tory and Sam, Tory wastes no time voicing her disdain for the ex-Cobras. “You’d better watch your back,” she spits at Demetri, and he feels a chill run through him. Turns out this girl is terrifying when she’s not fighting on your side.

Eli intercepts her as she leaves, staring her down defiantly in a very un-Eli-like manner. “You’d better watch yours,” he growls. “Touch him, and I’ll end you.”

Demetri glances over in surprise. When did Eli get so bold?

Well...he thinks he could grow to like it.

Season 4 (because fuck it)

Demetri is hardly expecting Mr. LaRusso and Mr. Lawrence to forgive him, never mind let him into their new dojo. But life has a lot of pleasant surprises in store for him, it seems, after the shitshow it recently put him through. It’s also possible Eli (and maybe Miguel too) but in a good word for him.

Demetri can’t stop apologizing to Eli. Seemingly every day, he finds a new thing to apologize for. Eli gets aggravated with it before long, having to reassure Demetri at least 50 separate times that he forgives him for everything. Nonetheless, Demetri refuses to stop--because he’ll never stop being sorry.

Or trying to find new ways to make it up to Eli. Going easy on him during sparring. Buying him lunch after practice. Helping him perfect some of the most badass Cobra moves.

Things end between Eli and Moon. Eli can’t fully elaborate on why--he just tells Demetri something didn’t feel quite right. The spark died out, like Demetri’s adrenaline rush slowly seeping away toward the end of a fight. That, and, Demetri gathers, something seems to have been distracting Eli from his girlfriend as of late.

Most likely the approaching, high stakes All-Valley. Karate is Serious Business, as they’ve both embraced now.

Rumor has it Yasmine and Moon are trying again, Yasmine realizing for seemingly the first time how awful she’s really been and making an effort to be better. Moon makes her want to be better--more than Demetri ever did, he realizes. And maybe that’s okay--he and Yasmine probably just weren’t right for each other.

Then one day, after yet another one of Demetri’s long-winded apologies, Eli offers something other than an exasperated. “It’s okay. Seriously.” There’s a pause before Eli quietly says “I’m sorry too.”

“For what?” Demetri blurts out, baffled. Everything Eli’s done has paled in comparison to his own atrocities.

“For outing you,” Eli says simply. “That was fucked. And it wasn’t my place, even if I was mad at you.”

“It’s all right.” Demetri shrugs. “You were right, anyways.”

Eli gives him a strange look. “I was?”

“Yeah, I mean...” Demetri laughs dryly. “I don’t...like girls. I pretended I did, because I felt like I was supposed to. That’s what people expect you to do when you’re a top athlete and all that. But dating Yasmine, chasing other girls, it always felt...empty. Like I was just acting out a role in a play or something. And at the end of the day, I think...” He pauses. “I think I was always looking at you.”

Because the last few months have made him realize something. Training with Eli, teaching Eli how to protect himself, watching Eli step up and defend him from the mistrusting stares and the scornful whispers...

Just how much of the person he’s become is thanks to wanting to protect Eli. The fact that that was always how all this started.

“I love you,” he blurts out, before he can stop himself. “I know I did a shitty job of showing it, and I know you were with Moon and you’re not like that, but I need you to know, and I understand if you don’t feel--”

Eli cuts him off with a fierce kiss, pinning him up against the dojo wall with unexpected aggressiveness.

When Eli pulls away, he’s smiling softly. The same smile he gave Moon in the hall as she drew on his cast--the smile that’s once again all Demetri’s.

“I love you too,” he murmurs. “Why do you think I broke up with Moon? Every time I was with her...I couldn’t stop wishing it was you. She’ll never know me like you do.”

And Kreese had better look out because Miyagi Fang’s next big power couple is a force to be reckoned with--the snarky, frighteningly fast-attacking ex-Cobra, and the buff, blue-mohawked Miyagi-Do with more inner peace than anyone would expect.

SOME RANDOM SIDENOTES ABOUT THIS BECAUSE I DIDN’T FEEL LIKE PUTTING THIS ALL IN THE TAGS

~I’m sorry if anyone is OOC in this--I know Johnny is kind of a fuck, but he genuinely WAS pretty crappy to Eli at first and who knows if he would’ve treated him any better if he didn’t “flip the script”??? ~Dark/Evil Demetri is so fun but also so awful to write--I hope you like him being an absolute fuck because the Corruption Arc is REAL ~Yes, I DO in fact fully believe Demetri would go on a crazed revenge quest just like Eli/Hawk did out of his grief for Miguel--the boy absolutely loves Miguel and arguably would want vengeance as much as Eli if their roles were swapped!!! Because Demetri cares about Miguel SO FUCKING MUCH even if it’s not as obvious as it is with Eli but that’s a rant for another post ~I included YasMoon because fuck it, I thought it’d be interesting. That and, unlike the Cobra Kai writers, I am not at all afraid of what conservative audiences will say, so I am not afraid to make things as gay as possible. ~There’s a good chance I swapped Kyler and Brucks’ places near the end solely so I could have Demetri beat the fuck out of Kyler because I just really need that ~Yes, even without formally becoming “Hawk,” Eli could learn how to be a conniving manipulative little shit if he wanted to be. Look at some of the shit he pulls with the counselor in canon Season 3!!! Boy sure as hell knows how to play the victim. ~Honestly not sure if being outed as gay is better or worse than being outed as a bed-wetter, but I had to think of something that would pack the same kind of emotional punch. In Eli’s feeble defense, the West Valley High kids don’t seem like the types to be like...especially violent against queer kids (otherwise NO WAY would Moon and Piper have been able to be that open about their relationship), they’d just be assholes about it. So Eli wasn’t putting Demetri in legit danger here so much as just opening him up to a lot of ridicule. Which is still fucked, but hey, I DID warn you this would be kind of fucked up XD ~Maybe short, concise apologies work for Eli, bUT NOT FOR DEMETRI THE RAMBLER ~Dark Demetri chasing Eli through the school like a goddamn serial killer = 10/10 gave myself a big Spook writing ~Yes, Eli does still have (and always had) his “Hawk” traits, even without the formal “transformation.” I just think his “Hawk” side would be a little more subtle and subdued if he were in Miyagi-Do, but it’s still there for sure.

#tw: outing #tw: internalized homophobia #tw: very dark stuff in general #tw: toxic relationships #tw: violence #tw: kinda sadistic characters tbh #tw: just generally some dark shit thematically in here yo #hawk x demetri #demetri x eli #binary boyfriends #hawkmeat #eli x demetri #demetri x hawk #elimetri #yasmoon #yasmine x moon #moon x yasmine #cobra kai #demetri cobra kai #eli moskowitz #miguel diaz #aisha robinson #moon cobra kai #yasmine cobra kai #sam larusso #kyler cobra kai #brucks cobra kai #role swap au #alternate universe #my askbox

[trashforhockeyguys]

Days Gone Silent - Jeff Skinner

Part two to Days Gone Quiet.

A/N: So, pregnancy, mentions of a possible miscarriage, trip to the hospital. If any of those things make you uncomfortable, maybe don’t read. 

A whopping 6.6K, but I’m honestly very proud of this story. I’m proud of how this story is. I’m proud of the character growth.

Two pink lines. That was all you could see. Those two stupid lines. Seemed ironic to you that there happened to be a vicious thunderstorm outside. Each clap made you jump, but it was those two lines that made you feel sick. Those two lines….they weren’t what you wanted. 

Your hands shook as you tried to get a grip on yourself. You had to meet Jason in twenty minutes. You were going to the Sabers game tonight. You almost wanted to laugh. This wasn’t supposed to be your life. 

You pulled at your hair for a moment. This was not how your twenties were meant to go. You shook your head and pushed away from the counter before throwing the test in the trash. You could push it out of your mind for one night. 

You arrived at the arena later than planned. Still, you didn’t rush to your seat. You didn’t run to meet Jason. Instead you slowly walked up to your level. Jason liked the higher levels because he could see more. Plus he liked it when you were able to explain the plays to him.

“You’re late. Nearly missed half of the period,” Jason announced when you sat down next to him. 

“Sorry…” You trailed off, scanning the bench even though you knew he wouldn’t be on it, “Um. Yeah, sorry. There was traffic.”

“You okay?” Jason asked.

You nodded slowly. You knew he wasn’t on the ice, he hadn’t been cleared yet. But you knew him well enough to know that he was in the arena. He was here. You hadn’t seen or spoken to him since you left his apartment nearly two months ago...but he was here.

It was half way through the first intermission before you spoke again, “I’m pregnant.”

“Oh..wow..” He blew out a deep breath, “Well, at least we know I’m not the dad.”

“Jason.”

He studied your face before looking back at the ice, realization seeming to hit him like a truck, “Oh shit. It’s his.”

“Well...that’s the only option.”

You scratched at your neck and tried not to keep looking for him. You felt sick, but a different kind of sick. You tried so hard not to think about it. Or to think about the argument that ruined your once perfect relationship with the one man you loved more than anything. 

The engagement ended, mere months before the wedding, because of one simple thing- you didn’t want kids.

You’d never been that person that saw yourself having children. Never thought about being a mother. You loved kids, always swore you’d be the best godmother and aunt, but never mother. That’s what ended it. He wanted them, so desperately, and you didn’t. He knew that it was one thing you wouldn’t waiver on. You would bend when it came to so much, but this was one thing you were going to stand firm on. 

You could still remember the way he looked at the spare bedroom, telling you that he thought that it would one day become a nursery. You remembered the hurt that fell across his face when you made it abundantly clear that it would never happen. 

“Okay...So you call him and tell him,” Jason shrugged, “He’s a good guy, he’ll take care of you.”

“You don’t get it Jase,” You sighed, “I never wanted this. He’s always been the one that wanted kids, I never ever wanted to be a mom.”

“We’ll, there’s option 2,” He said almost grimly.

“No…” You shook your head, “I need to tell him. I might hate it...but damnit he has a say in this.”

You tugged on your hair and tried to figure out how you were supposed to tell him. It had been nearly two months since you talked last. You were the one who left this time. You doubted you could just call him out of the blue. You knew you couldn’t just spring it on him, even though that’s all you wanted to do. You wanted to just rip off the bandaid, tell him and get it over with. Figure out how you were meant to move on from this.

“Or maybe I just don’t tell him.”

“Y/N, you know you can’t do that.”

“I know...I just-” You took a deep breath and tried to push down the feeling, “We didn’t get married because I didn’t want kids. And then when he got hurt we kind of found our way back to each other, until we both slipped and now there’s a fucking baby.”

Jason grabbed your hand, trying to calm you down as best as he could. He might not have known you as long as Jeff had, but he knew when you were stressed. And this….this was more than stress. 

Meanwhile, across the rink, Jeff could see you from the box the team put him in. He was off his crutches, and was allowed to skate again, but hadn’t been fully cleared to play. He thought about calling you since you left his apartment. He wanted to have you back in his life, but he also knew you’d run if he tried. But he missed you. He missed the late nights and the quiet mornings spent in bed. He wished there would've been a way that the two of you could’ve worked it out. It had only taken him a couple of weeks after the entail breakup to realize he didn’t want to live his life without you, but the damage had already been done and he didn’t know how to reverse any of it.

He could see you clutching onto another man, he was pretty sure it was that guy you’d told him about. A blind date that turned into a great friendship. He tried not to be jealous of the way you leaned into the guy, the way you seemed to cling to him. Jeff knew he had no right to those feelings.  

But he still felt like you were his forever...even if he knew that wasn’t going to happen now.

It was nearly a week later when you walked out of the office, a small stack of pictures in your hand. It was a little blob, barely more than a blip on the paper, but it was there. You were nearly out of the first trimester. It was real now.

You took several deep breaths as you walked through downtown. This was really happening, there was nothing you could really do about it. There was going to be a baby. You tried to imagine what your life was going to look like now. Your apartment was big enough for now. But the thought of moving back home to be closer to your family sounded nice, just so you could have help. You weren’t sure how you were even meant to raise a child. 

You found yourself pulling your jacket in closer. The cold wind caused you to shiver. You knew you needed to call Jeff….whatever happened, he deserved to know. Especially when he was the one who always wanted this life. He wanted the white picket fence and swingsets. 

“Y/N!”

You looked up to see Jack just a few feet away from you. Startled, you dropped the small stack of black and white photos. You jumped, realizing he was moving to pick them up. He got to them before you could fully tell your body to grab them first. You could see the emotions fly across his face before he handed them back to you. 

“Do you want to go get some lunch?” He asked, taking you by surprise. 

You let out a deep breath before nodding, “Yeah...lunch would be good.”

So the two of you landed at a table in the corner of the restaurant he brought you to. You knew Jack wouldn’t bombard you with questions, but you knew he had them. He, like the rest of the team, knew you were living with Jeff while he was getting back on his feet, literally. It wouldn’t take much to try to put two and two together. 

“So..are you okay?” 

You weren’t expecting that to be the first thing he asked you. Jack, the sweet man that you and Jeff both befriended not long after coming to Buffalo. The man that was there for Jeff after the breakup, who let him crash on his couch more than enough times. The one who would still like and comment on all of your posts, especially when you got a massive promotion. He was sitting there like nothing ever changed, like you hadn’t forced all of them to choose Jeff. 

“I um-” You shook your head slightly, “I don’t think so. Not this time.”

He reached his hand across the table and gently grabbed yours, “I’ll be here, if you need a friend.”

“You’re not even going to ask?” I questioned, “You don’t care who’s it is?”

“I didn’t think I had to ask. He was pretty forthcoming with the details of those weeks.”

“I didn’t- I hurt him again. Again and again and again, that’s all I do.”

Jack shrugged, “You two are fire and ice, but somehow I don’t think either of you mind in the moment. It’s when you leave each other again that the pain sets in.”

You shook your head, “We broke it all off for a reason. Seems like the universe didn’t care. I missed a couple of pills, and now…”

“It happens.”

“Not to me, it doesn’t. But...here I am anyway.”

“And you haven’t told him yet?” His tone was cautious, he didn’t want to overstep. 

“You would’ve known if I had. Just not sure how to…”

He smiled softly and squeezed your hand, “It’s Jeff, he’ll be alright.”

And so that night you found yourself outside of Jeff’s apartment. You bounced on your feet and tried to gather enough courage to knock on his door. Your stomach twisted, you weren’t sure if it was because of the morning sickness that took hold of you all hours of the day, or if it was your own fear.

You were sure you looked awful. You’d spent the last couple of hours throwing up. It seemed the thing inside you didn’t appreciate the lunch you’d eaten with Jack. Although, there was little that that tiny little blip did like. 

You raised your hand and gently knocked on the door. So gently, you wondered if he even heard it. But then you could hear the scuffle from the otherside of the door, maybe even some laughing. 

His face was flushed, a careless smile was spread across his face. His shirt was half unbuttoned and you could smell the cheap perfume, it was enough to make you want to vomit all over again. 

“Y/N,” He looked as if he’d been hit. 

“Hey come back, I’m lonely,” The female voice called from somewhere inside. 

You were stunned. You felt cornered. I could feel myself backing away, trying to make a quick escape but my body wouldn’t let me. As much as I wanted to run, my legs were stuck.

“I’m sorry...I-” You couldn’t finish before the smell of that perfume became too much. You turned and ran as fast as you could, until you were outside and the cold crisp air hit you. But even then, you found yourself hunched over the nearest trashcan as the heaving began. You wanted all of this to just be over already. The sickness and the feeling like the world was going to cave in on you. You wanted to feel happy like so many other moms. But you were scared. Only scared. 

“Y/N?” 

Next thing you knew, you could feel someone pulling your hair back out of your face. The wind stinging as it hit the warm tears that were falling. You hated getting sick. But you hated whatever was going on upstairs even more. 

He still smelled like her, of course he would. You knew Jeff, he likely just bolted after you as soon as you ran, leaving her alone. Once you composed yourself enough you tried to put enough distance between you two. Knowing if you got closer it would all just start again. 

“Just...stay there.”

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” He was panicked.

“You should-” You took another deep breath of the cold air to try and clear your lungs, “You should go back. You’re busy.”

“Fuck that,” He snapped, “What’s going on with you? You show up and then just bolt?”

“Seriously, unless you want me to start throwing up again...you should go back inside.”

“What the hell Y/N?”

“It’s the perfume, okay. I can’t- the smell makes me sick.”

He laughed almost coldly. You hadn’t seen this side of him since the night you broke things off. He was angry, he had every right to be. 

“Then maybe you should have called before you just showed up here for nothing,” His tone made you take a step back, “Obviously I was preoccupied. So I think I will go back upstairs.”

“I’m-” Your voice was so small as he turned and took a few steps, “Jeffy.”

He turned at the sound of your voice breaking, “Jeff...I’m pregnant.”

He went quiet and unmoving. Your hands were clenched at your side, not anywhere near your stomach, where the ghost of a bump was starting to form. Yet, his eyes drifted there anyway. You wished you knew what he was thinking. You almost wanted to laugh at how cruel all of this seemed. You and Jeff would’ve been happily married by now, living in the house with the white fence, and this wouldn’t have been such a shock. 

“I should-” He took a deep breath, still looking at your stomach, “I should go tell her to leave.”

“Jeff.”

“You can wait outside the door if you want,” He said, “I’ll change too.”

“Jeff.”

“Isn’t that way you came then?” He asked, turning back towards you, “To talk about this? To talk options.”

“I thought-you aren’t mad?”

“Jesus. No. We weren’t exactly the most sensible during those months. Not that I expected this, or wanted this for you. But...how are you?”

You weren’t sure how to answer. Too much was going on inside your head. You had no idea how you were, “I don’t know. I’m...I’m pregnant. I don’t know.” 

“How?” He took a deep breath, “How far along?”

“Far enough,” You stated. 

You could see him trying to do the math. He’d always been attentive. When you were still together he knew when to expect your period, and knew when you were late. You often wondered if he didn’t have it marked in his calendar so he’d know what to expect from you.

“Sometime either right before or not long after I left,” You answered the question you knew he was silently asking. 

“Give me five minutes, you can wait in the lobby if you want.”

“No, it’s okay...We can talk tomorrow,” You said, a weird sense of guilt washing over you. 

His face changed, something seemed to shift within him, “I turned you out into the cold once, Y/N,” He stated sadly, “I refused to listen. I won’t make that mistake again. So...please.”

You nodded slowly, knowing this was something the both of you needed to do tonight. Before either of you lost courage, or somehow decided this wasn’t a good idea at all. So you slowly followed him back inside, letting the warmth of the building overtake you. But rather than waiting in the lobby, you opted for the small sitting area at the other end of his floor, far enough away from his door that his friend wouldn’t see you. It seemed odd to you that you felt a pang of jealousy in your chest, he wasn’t yours anymore. 

Having his child didn’t change anything. You weren’t together. Even after all of the years you spent sleeping next to him, you had no claim to him anymore. Not after you walked out on him again. 

“You’re still here,” Jeff said a few minutes later, seemingly stunned by the fact you were right where he left you. 

“I told you I wouldn’t go anywhere,” You whispered, “But I guess I don’t blame you. I’m not always the best at keeping promises.”

He let out a small laugh, like it was meant to cover up the pain you knew you caused him, “I put a kettle on. You can still have tea, right?”

“I don’t think it’ll kill me.”

The apartment smelled clean, like he’d opened windows to air it back out. The pillows on the couch, which you were sure had been thrown, were back where they belonged. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought he’d just come home from a road trip and the apartment was cleaned while he was away.

“How are you, really?” He asked you. 

You sighed and started to play with your fingers, “Sick all of the time, and achy. I get these horrible headaches too, sometimes they’re so bad it’s hard to move,” You explained to him, “And I’m tired. God, I’m always so tired. Little thing is zapping everything out of me I guess.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” You could hear the guilt in his voice without even looking up, “I know this isn’t what you wanted. I’m sorry.”

You tried not to think back to the night your engagement ended. How different this conversation was to the one had that night. It seemed almost funny to you how different both of you had become since then. Both of you grew, but you had to grow apart in some ways. 

“You’re right….I didn’t want this,” You said softly, almost a whisper, “I never saw myself with kids. And to be honest I’m still not sure that I do see myself with them. But this is happening Jeff. And I haven’t really let myself think about it, but...I think I could want this.”

You tried to force down the wave of feelings that was building, “I never wanted the picket fence and swingsets and stepping on Legos all the time...and there’s still a big part of me that’s terrified of what’s coming. But then there are other days, when I’m in bed alone at night, or during the day when it’s quiet, that I just feel… I don’t know really. But I can see the picket fence, and the dirty diapers, and the little mighty mite hockey games down the road. And I think I’m excited, and happy. But I don’t know how to be, because I hurt you when I said I’d never want this, and now I-”

“Shh,” He pulled you into his chest, holding you as tightly as he dared to, “This is happening, it doesn’t matter anymore. If you want the picket fence then we’ll figure out a way to get that life back. But you won’t be doing any of it alone.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything Jeff,” You admitted, “I don’t want you to feel like I’ve trapped you.”

He nearly laughed and gently grabbed your hands, “Funny, last year you were saying I was the one trapping you.”

“Jeffy-”

“Believe it or not, I’ve been hoping you’d come back since the second you left. This is just a little extra,” He shrugged like it was no big deal, “We’re in this together now. Now drink your tea, you look like you need it.”

“You bought more of this?” You said after taking a sip of the tea that you’d been drinking for years. 

His back was to you as he fixed a cup for himself, “Like I said, I kept hoping you’d come back.”

Your chest hurt. He didn’t seem to miss you all that much, but you knew he wouldn’t lie about something like that. One thing about Jeff was the fact that he had his heart on his sleeve, always had. From the moment you met him during his rookie year, you knew that. You tried not to let tears burst forward. Now was not the time for that. 

“I’m-” You swallowed the large lump in your throat, a hand wandered down to your stomach, “I’m sorry I took so long.”

“You look like you’re about ready to drop,” He stated, “You’re free to steal some of my clothes and make yourself at home. I don’t want to send you back out into this snow, it’ll only get worse.” 

You nodded slowly and made your way to his room once you finished your tea. Not much had changed in the short time since you’d last been in here, other than the fact that he’d replaced the bedspread like you suggested to him. 

For a second you allowed yourself to close your eyes and see the life he could obviously see so clearly. For as long as you could remember, your future never looked clear to you. You couldn’t see things the way he could, you only saw yourself as you were in that moment. 

Yet, you could almost see the two of you cuddling a small baby. You could see him teaching them how to skate when they were old enough. Maybe in a couple of years, you could have another. He always wanted more than one, you knew that. 

You pulled out a pair of sweatpants from one of his drawers, you knew normally they’d be too big, but you were already starting to put on some extra weight. You pulled your sweater over your head, catching sight of your reflection on the mirror that hung on the back of his closet door. 

You didn’t look pregnant, and aside from being unbelievably sick half of the time, you didn’t feel pregnant. Yet, even still, there was the smallest swell of your stomach, to anyone else it would just look like you were bloated. Had too much bread, or ate too much and had a food baby. But you knew...you knew. 

You stepped closer to the mirror, dropping your sweater on the bed. You hadn’t really allowed yourself to really think about any of it. You blocked out most of your doctor’s appointment, all you had to know was that the baby was healthy. The rest just sort of got blurred out.

So you stood, sideways so you could really get a look. You knew it would get bigger in the coming weeks. You wouldn’t be able to hide it anymore, everyone at work would know. You’d have to call and tell your family for sure, and Jeff….he would have to tell his family too. 

You were going to have his baby. For better or worse, you two would be parents. 

“Do you want any-” Jeff fell silent at the sight of you gently holding your stomach. 

You didn’t move, as if you didn’t even hear him. He leaned against the doorframe and watched you. Your eyes were glued to your reflection, so deep in thought you had no idea of your surroundings. He knew you didn’t want kids, but he also knew you’d be an amazing mom. He’d known that for years, he remembered watching you with his teammate’s babies over the years, and just how wonderful you were with them. He never would’ve forced you to have a family, but he couldn’t wait to see you with this child. 

He knew you were scared, hell he was terrified. He didn’t know how to be a dad, he didn’t know the first thing about pregnancy, or what the two of you were going to be once this was all over. But he knew he was excited to be a dad. He might not have been ready, and this wasn’t how he planned it all to be, but he was ready.

He took a step towards you when he noticed your shoulders started shaking as you fought off tears. He wouldn’t pretend to know what was going on inside your head, but he knew that you needed him. Even if you wouldn’t admit it, you needed him. 

“I’ve got you,” He pulled you into his chest, not even skipping a beat. 

“I’m pregnant,” You finally felt the full force of the situation hitting you. 

You were going to be a mom. This wasn’t something you could avoid, you were having a baby. You were responsible for a human life. Your body shook against his as you cried. You couldn’t figure out if you were happy now or not. As much as you never wanted a child, you did want this. You wanted the picket fence life with Jeff. You wanted this baby that was growing within you. The little blob on the pictures. The blob that was changing your life already. 

“Jeffy, we’re having a baby,” You sobbed.

He held you, not quite knowing if he needed to try to calm you down, or cry with you. He carefully pushed you back towards the bed and pulled you into his lap. Without even realizing it, you grabbed his hand and put it on your stomach. His touch was calming to you, always had been. 

He was one of the only people who could calm you down during the worst storms...this was another storm. Just a different kind of storm.

Two weeks later, you were splitting your time between your apartment and Jeff’s. He wanted to spend as much time with you as he could. There were very distinct lines that had been drawn, and the two of you tried desperately not to cross them. For the sake of your baby, you tried not to toe them, tried not to be anything but friends with him. But you wanted to be close to him all of the time. 

Keeping distance when his teammates were around though, was hard. Jack knew, not only because you told him, but because Jeff did as well. As for your families, you didn’t yet know how you were supposed to do that. You weren’t sure how either of your families were going to react to the news. But you’d worry about that later.

Because right now you and Jeff were curled up in his bed, his hand resting on your belly, which was slowly getting bigger. You were almost to the point where you couldn’t hide it anymore. Your larger sweaters were almost too small. The thought almost excited you, you felt like you were ready to show off. 

Jeff was fast asleep next to you, but didn’t dare to let go of you. This was how it was when you stayed with him. You couldn’t deny that you felt safer in his arms, you always had. You slept better too.

It was a sharp pain that ripped you from your peaceful sleep. You let out a cry as it ripped through you again. Jeff was sitting up in an instant, reaching over to turn on the lamp on the nightstand. You nearly screamed when you moved the blankets away and saw red. No sound would come out though, only tears as you couldn’t take your eyes off from it. 

Jeff was moving as soon as he saw it. He tugged on a shirt and grabbed an extra pair of pants for you, the thickest pair of sweatpants that he owned, and a sweatshirt. You barely moved as he carefully put them both onto you, all you could do was hold your stomach. 

“It’s too much,” You mumbled, almost in a trance, “Jeff there’s...it’s too much blood.”

“Shh,” He tried to quell your fears, and tried to force down his own, “We’re going to get you to the hospital okay? It’s going to be fine.”

But how could it be when you could practically feel that perfect life slipping away from you. Bit by bit, you could see it all falling away. You said nothing as he drove you to the nearest hospital. You only cried and winced with each new bit of pain. You knew what this meant...you knew it was over.

Jeff tried to reach over for your hand, if only to try to comfort you and make sure that you knew you weren’t alone. But you shied away from him. He would blame you for this. You didn’t want the baby in the first place, surely this was your fault somehow. 

You felt almost numb.

You fell asleep shortly after the doctors finished running tests. They were able to stop the bleeding, but didn’t yet know what your condition was. All you could do was sleep. Jeff was pacing in the halls, having been asked to wait until the doctors were done with you. He’d been promised a nurse would come for him, but he just wanted to be by your side. He promised you wouldn’t be in this alone, and he felt like he was abandoning you. 

He wanted to call his parents and beg for help, but they didn’t know. Most of the team didn’t know. Neither did your family. The two of you were alone in this for now. He was alone in this...and you were alone. For as long as they kept him away. 

“Mr. Skinner?”

Jeff’s movements stopped as he saw the doctor coming towards him. His breath halted, he knew just as well as you did what the outcome was going to be. Even he knew that was too much blood no matter the stage you were in. You were past the point where spotting was normal, and that was far from spotting. 

He tried to brace himself, he tried to come to peace with it. Even if it was only so that he could be strong for you. He knew you were excited, you wanted to take daily pictures of your growing bump so that you could show them off when the time came. You’d been so excited to find out what you were having at your next appointment, and made Jeff swear he’d be there. As if he would miss that appointment for the world. He caught you looking at nursery ideas on Pinterest. He knew you were ready for this now. And just as you’d come to terms with it, and allowed yourself to be excited about the baby, it was taken from you. 

“We stopped the bleeding, we’re still working to find the cause of it. But we’d like to keep them here at least overnight, so that we’ll be able to monitor both mom and baby,” The doctor explained. 

Jeff’s knees threatened to give out, “Both of them?” He tried not to hope. God did he try, but all he could do was think that maybe it wasn’t all gone. 

“The baby is fine, Mr. Skinner, as is Miss Y/L/N. We have her on fluids and we’ve given her some blood, but we’ll continue to run tests to find the cause,” The doctor paused when they truly saw the look on Jeff’s face and gently put a hand on his shoulder, “Your baby is just fine. Trying to kick up a storm by the looks of the last ultrasound.”

“They’re both okay?” Tears finally fell from Jeff’s eyes. He wasn’t able to hold them back any longer. He tried to prepare himself for the heartbreak that he thought was going to come, but he never considered that he might find relief by the end of the night, “They’re okay?”

The doctor smiled softly and nodded, “I’ll take you to her room. She’s asleep, but I’m sure you’d like to be there when she wakes up.”

Jeff sat by your side for hours, constantly looking over to the fetal heart monitor. Sometimes his hand would rest over your stomach, he couldn’t feel the baby but he knew it was there. That was enough for him. You began to stir quite a few hours later. Jeff was exhausted, but knew he needed to be awake when you finally came around. 

He sat straight up and held onto your hand tightly. You started silently crying almost instantly, thinking the worst had come to pass. 

“I’m sorry,” Your voice, though not above a whisper, broke. 

“Shh, you’re okay,” He kissed your hand, “Love, you’re both okay.”

At that exact moment, one of the doctors came in, rolling a large screen attached to a machine in with her. Your confusion didn’t go away as you addressed the room. You were hooked up to double the monitors, but that shouldn’t be the case. 

“Alright, time to check on how you’re both doing,” The doctor announced, “And, this time you’ll both get to see your baby.”

“I don’t understand I-” 

Jeff kissed your hand again, eyes brimmed with tears, “You’re both okay, Y/N. The baby is okay.”

You were released three days later. The second you got back into Jeff’s apartment you went to the couch. You’d been placed on bedrest, for the sake of you and your baby. You weren’t thrilled about it. It meant you had to be relieved from work for the time being, and you wouldn’t be able to go to any games or really go anywhere at all. But your baby was fine, healthy even. 

“She’s a fighter, like her mom,” Jeff said, catching you looking down at your belly. 

“She scared the living hell out of us,” You replied, “Listen here little miss, don’t do that again for a long time. You need to be gentle with me, I’m new to this.”

Jeff laughed softly and put down your bags before joining you on the couch. He wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder. The world seemed so different to both of you now. The three days spent in the hospital, you both realized the lines you’d drawn no longer mattered. There was you and him and the baby. Your little family.

“I still want to marry you,” He stated. 

“And I still want to be married to you,” You replied, “Just...after she comes.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Jeff warned.

He put a hand on your stomach just in time to feel a tiny little kick. She wasn’t kicking with much force yet, but she was kicking. Jeff still couldn’t believe he was having a daughter. He declared that it was the only good thing to come out of the trip to the hospital. He got to see his baby for the first time, all ten fingers and toes. Got to see her little face, and point out the fact that she already looked so much like you. He didn’t know he could love something so much, without even having met her yet. But she was his, and she was yours. A perfect combination of the two of you, even if she wasn’t planned. She was still loved.

The coming days and weeks blurred together. You weren’t able to go anywhere. You did a lot of online shopping so you’d be able to put together a little nursery. Jeff had a spare bedroom that you’d use. Both of you decided not long after your trip to the hospital that you should stay there. Besides, home was always where Jeff was. Your little apartment was just a place you ran to, because you didn’t feel like you had a home anymore. You had more than a home now though. 

Jason came by a lot. He was finally able to meet Jeff, making Jeff realize Jason was really like a brother to you these days. Jason stayed a lot when Jeff was gone for games. He kept you company and called you at least everyday. He helped out a lot more than you ever expected him to. But he made you promise you’d grant him the title of Uncle Jase when the time came.

The news of the baby took both of your families by surprise. They didn’t know you two were still close. It nearly made you laugh when your parents went silent before your mom started screaming. Jeff’s family was a little more laid back, but even you could tell they were holding back. The sight of you and Jeff holding onto one another while showing them the pictures from the ultrasounds was too much for both sets of parents. Because the two of you were finally getting your happy ending. 

“What about Caroline?” Jeff questioned as the two of you sat trying to figure out a name. 

“Caroline? I thought you wanted a family name?” 

“I think that name is more important.”

“How so?” Confusion took over you. 

“For Carolina. We wouldn’t have met if I hadn’t been drafted by the Canes,” He clarified, “Or if you hadn’t gone to NC State.”

“Technically we met because you, Mr. Hotshot Rookie, showed up to the State Hockey House,” You laughed, “I was half drunk, but there you were with rosey cheeks and goofy smile.”

He laughed, “We played beer pong together, right?”

“You lost the game, and I threw up in the bushes.”

His laugh was loud as he recalled those events, “Ah college and the early years.”

You smiled and kissed his neck. Your little girl was kicking up a storm under Jeff’s hand. Her little movements followed wherever he moved, either with a foot or a hand. He’d play the game with her for hours, until she seemed to fall asleep. He’d poke where a foot was and she’d kick back. You already learned she seemed to like hockey, as she became more active when you watched it. Or maybe it was because you got more excited. 

Jeff would come home and give you both details about the game, his head was always by your belly so she could hear him better. Nights like that made you want to cry. There was a whole new world that the two of you were about to enter into and you couldn’t wait. You wanted to be able to hold the little girl you’d once been so afraid of. 

“She’s kicking a lot tonight,” Jeff whispered. 

“She likes it when you’re here. A daddy’s girl already,” You told him. 

“She’s already taken my heart, just like her mama,” He replied, “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Twirly Bird.”

Your daughter was born shortly after that night. A few weeks early, but she decided she just didn’t want to wait anymore. You and Jeff loved her from the moment her cries broke through the room. You named her Caroline afterall, agreeing that it was the perfect name. You and Jeff were married not long after. The wedding was small, nothing big. A year after Caroline was born, the three of you moved into a spacious house, big enough for more children. 

It didn’t take you long to realize you wanted more. You didn’t want it to just be Caroline. There was a large yard, big enough for a swingset and plenty of room for her to play when she was old enough. Her little feet padded on the hardwood floors all the time, constantly chasing after the dogs. 

But the best thing about the house, besides the fact that it was where your family was going to grow? The fact that you finally had a white picket fence with Jeff. After all of the bumps in the road, and the number of times you walked out on each other. You finally had the life that you never thought you wanted. But it turned out to be the life you didn’t know you needed.

#Jeff skinner #Jeff skinner imagine #Jeff skinner imagines #Jeff skinner fanfic #Jeff skinner fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfic #hockey fanfiction #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #buffalo sabres #sabers imagine #sabers imagines

[pettyprocrastination]

Dinner for Three

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Valerie Lord x Black!Fem!Reader

OneShot: This is just a non-canon fic! This is basically placed AFTER the timelines of this fic, just a fun little side ficlet surrounding you and the lords after yall get together in celebration of Valentines day!

*If you want to read the rest of the fic so far here's a link to my masterlist where you can find Rip Out Our Seams & Stitch Us Together*

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: profanity, some groping going on and kissing. That's about it! Fluff and talking of self-worth.

Summary: It's Valentine's Day, you decide to treat Valerie to a nice homecooked dinner, Maxwell joins you when he returns home from work.

If the formatting is fucked im sorry tumblr fucked this like three times today im just trying to get it POSTED for you all.

Tag List: @captainsamwlsn @themarcusmoreno @cinewhore @thesadvampire @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @readsalot73 @holographic-carmen @honestlystop @thecrimsonsquire @phoenixhalliwell @that-chick212 @phantomnae @goldafterglow

If I forgot to tag you I'm so sorry please let me know!

Notes: BIG thank you to @ficsilike-reblogged who bought me a kofi! I know i was meant to do asomething shorter but i couldn't help myself! Also my usual big thanks for the ever lovely @teaofpeach for editing for me you are an absolute treat my dear ily <3

(i coudn't find any good lasagna gifs the TRAGEDY)

“What in God’s name are you wearing?”

You turned around at the shocked voice to see Valerie standing in the kitchen doorway, red painted lips dropped open.

You grinned and planted your hands on your hips with pride. “My Valentine’s Day outfit! You don’t like it?”

Her face fell flat as she looked you up and down; the main culprit of her disdain was the shirt you wore, buttoned neatly and covered in hearts. “Hon, you look like a cartoon character.”

You wiggled your brows. “A sexy cartoon character?”

“Remind me again why I love you?”

Hearing the word ‘love’ from Valerie Lord would never not send your heart into a frenzy. It had been months since the gala, since they had told you about their feelings with courage brought on my champagne and their own confessions to one another.

They finally had each other, why couldn't they have you as well?

Of course, that didn’t mean there wasn’t a… learning curve. When it came to the relationship, Valerie was bad at sharing her feelings. Sure, she’d say when she didn’t like somebody, or when she thought certain food tasted bad or when Maxwell’s new cologne smelled like rat shit. But she wouldn’t tell you when she was sad, insecure or felt like she wasn’t enough for the both of you.

Maxwell was too concerned with the outer view of the relationship, as he had been with Valerie since they got married. It was suspicious of course, for him to be seen leaving with a “mystery woman” without his wife around, so he took certain precautions. When out and about, he would take too much time fretting over the cameras and questions than you.

These precautions nearly cost them your relationship, their sweet girl who brought them together and showed them love and care and made them realize while they couldn't live without each other, they couldn’t live without you as well.

But now, they knew this. That you weren’t a fling who could be replaced. Your nimble fingers had stitched their beating hearts back together with a golden thread they wouldn’t dare untie from your own.

You turned away from the heiress and back to the stove as you stirred the red sauce in front of you.

“As abhorrent as that shirt is-” Her voice purred in your ear as her arms slid around your waist and pulled your back flush against her- “I love you in those jeans.”

You chuckled and kept your eyes on the task at hand as you slowly stirred. “As much of a compliment that is, Mrs. Lord, why don’t you keep those hands to yourself until I put this on the stove, alright?”

She hummed, contemplative before pressing her lips to the crook of your neck. “So mean to me baby.”

Her hands toyed with your belt loop, a painted nail hooking your shirt and slowly sliding it out from where it was tucked.

You sucked in a sharp breath. “Valerie.”

“What? Can’t I show my pretty baby some love on Valentines day?”

“Not while I’m cooking on a hot stove, little-miss-gropey.” A quick slap to her wrist with the wooden spoon made her yelp and yank her hands away from you.

“Bitch!”

You turned and pursed your lips. “Aww, poor baby, want me to kiss it better?”

She grumbled under her breath, taking in the splattered food on her wrist from the spoon before swiping her finger through it and bringing it to her mouth.

“Maybe you can kiss my ass instea- Oh, damn that’s good.”

Her eyes widened and you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of such a high and mighty woman licking the back of her hand.

“Is that-”

“Basil?” She hummed at the taste. “I’m glad you enjoy it. It’s my father’s recipe.”

Valerie watched you as you cooked. Methodically adding each ingredient while humming along to the radio and swaying from side to side. 

“You don’t talk about him much.”

Valerie knew you were different than her and Maxwell. Your childhood wasn’t full of flashing cameras, propping questions, and hiding tears behind fake smiles to reporters. When your father was brought up in conversation, you didn’t bristle or change the subject. You would smile. 

She wasn’t jealous of that joy. That love you had from your family. She’s grateful for it, that amongst the struggles you had, there was also support and happiness. 

“He doesn’t come up in conversation often.” Valerie’s hands once more wrapped around your waist, but simply settled at your hips. Her body was flush with your own and she let her head rest on your shoulder, gently swaying with you as you continued to cook. 

“Tell me about him.”

She saw the small smile that graced your lips, mourning and grateful all at once as you spoke of him. 

“He used to say that as people, we’re a collection of those around us. The ones we’ve loved. All their little mannerisms and tics become a part of who we are. And that we do the same for other people who love us.” 

As you slowly set the pasta onto the bottom of the pan and began to layer the sauce, she wondered who you were an amalgamation of. Was the way you tilted your head back as you laughed from an old flame? 

Was the way you sang and shook your hips from a best friend when you were young, who you wished had been more?

Were the soft kisses you press to the tip of their noses something given to you? Or an act of love learned by watching your parents?

Did you have anything of hers? Of Max’s? 

Did they have anything of yours? 

“I see it in you and Max, yanno.” You stepped back to open the oven and settle the pan on the top rack before shutting it. “You both do a lil’ nose scrunch when you get angry.”

“What?” She drew back from your body, unintentionally wrinkling her nose in the process. “We do not.”

You pulled her close to your body again. Your arms settled around her waist as you slowly moved side to side. You hummed along to the smooth voice of Grover Washington Jr. that danced from the radio and filled the large kitchen, empty except for the two of you. 

“Sure do. You're also both very boujee-”

“Hey.”

“A touch temperamental-”

“I’ll give you that one but-"

“As well as emotionally constipated-”

“Excuse me?”

“And yet-” You hummed, letting your head drop forward to rest against hers, nose bumping against hers in a gentle caress- “I can’t help but love you both every damn day.”

Her blue eyes widened, before she groaned and shoved her face into your shirt. 

“You fucking sap.” She lifted her head to yours and kissed you. The melody curled around you as she wrapped her arms around your neck and tugged you flush against her. A soft moan broke from her lips as you ran your hands over the plush skin of her ass. 

You pulled away long enough to press a kiss to the tip of her nose, giggling when her face scrunched up in response. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Val."

Valerie Lord never thought she’d have this. This love and security. The ability to smile and kiss and dance on a Sunday night in the arms of a lover. She didn’t think she’d ever have a day where she felt love, a love she wasn’t afraid to admit. 

Especially to two people. 

The pair of you danced in silence, listening to the lyrics that serenaded the way you spun her and the laugh that bubbled up her chest her perfect, pinned, blonde curls came loose. 

And darling when the morning comes

And I see the morning sun

I wanna be the one with you.

When Maxwell came home, he noticed how quiet the house was. No chatter or footsteps along the hardwood floors. He knew what day it was, of course he did. He wasn’t an idiot. Valentine’s Day wasn’t a special day with the Lords. It never had been. 

But of course, that was before they met you.

Maxwell never saw that love with his parents. His mother was cold and cruel, and while his father was a good man, he knew he didn’t love her. He didn’t blame him for it. But now he felt it. The way his heart would hammer against his ribs so hard he wondered if you could hear him. The way all his stress and anger would melt away the moment Valerie’s hands held his face in a grasp like that used to carry a bird with a broken wing. 

He didn’t think it was possible to love. To desire and need somebody as much as he did you two. Now he did, and he wouldn’t go back to a life without it for all the money and power in the world. 

The sound of smooth sax caught his attention. Slowly, he set down his briefcase and followed the music until he found himself in front of the kitchen. 

This. Maxwell thought as he watched the two of you, your eyes shut as you held one another in a close embrace as swayed. This is why he did it all. 

The long hours, the greuling work and idiotic employees. If he could come home to this everyday, it’d all be worth it. 

He leaned against the doorway, watching you two until your own eyes opened and met his. 

“Happy to finally have you with us monopoly-man.”

He snorted at your lovingly crude nickname. “It was a long day at work.” Gone was the fake ‘apple-pie-and-picket-fence’ accent he forced himself to use at work when he spoke and you loved it. To see the real Maxwell was a privilege, one you would never take for granted. 

“Every day at work is a long day for you.”

Before he could retort, his wife unwrapped her arms from you and walked over to her husband. Valerie cupped his face in her hand and led him to her lips with a soft moan. Maxwell melted into the kiss with ease, all thoughts of work and conference calls vanished into thin air as his wife’s fingers carded through his hair. She pulled away with a wet pop and ran a thumb over the smudged lipstick on his face. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, dear.”

Maxwell let his hand run over her bottom lip with a lazy smile. She was magnificent like this. Not preened or pinned or posed. She was messy and unkempt and happy. She never looked more breathtaking than in those moments. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, honey.”

Her eyes flicked over his crisp suit and her sweet smile was replaced with a groan. 

“Son of a bitch you fuckers are matching!”

You shrieked with laughter while Valerie pointed an accusatory finger at the heart-covered tie that lay on her husband’s chest. 

“You tacky traitor!”

You leaned over and pressed your lips to his cheek, his hand coming to rest at the small of your back. 

“Aw don’t worry, Max. She’s just jealous she isn't matching with us.”

Valerie reared back. “I’ll be caught dead before I ever-”

“Alastair sent them to us.”

A moment of silence passed before she spoke again, more offended than annoyed. 

“And he didn’t send one for me?”

Maxwell smirked at his wife, fishing out a small white box and presenting it to her. 

“Our son knows his mother wouldn’t be caught dead in anything with gaudy patterns.” He opened the box and she took in the red heart earrings with a smile. 

Which was ultimately ruined by you. 

“Aw, he boujee just like his mama!”

Before either one could snap back at you, a small ding sounded through the kitchen and you moved quickly over to the oven. 

“You know-” Maxwell spoke as he put the earrings on his wife with gentle hands- “We have a chef for a reason.”

You brought out the pan and set it onto the stove, taking in the savory smell with a proud smile. 

“Well, fine then. Go get your cook to make you dinner if you want to complain.”

“Wait. Wait, no that not- that’s not what I meant- I’m starving, please.”

Valerie moved around her husband, taking a bottle of red wine and bumping his hip with hers. “Just set the table Maxwell, we both know how you can make it up to her later. It’s a special day after it all.”

Her husband loosened his tie and grinned at you in a way that made you think he wanted to eat you for dinner instead of the meal you prepared. 

“Lovely idea, darling.”

#maxwell lord #maxwell lord x oc #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord x you #valerie lord x reader #maxwell lord x valerie lord x reader #ROOSASUT #ww1984 #wonder women 1984 #fanfiction #max lord #maxwell lorenzano #tell me if i missed any tags lmao

[justleaf]

Summary

Roche and Iorveth go on a date with Geralt as their chaperone (not the hat).

Content Background

This one is especially painful to yeet because it was already completed, together with 50% of the next chapter that was the smutty bits. It was finished right about the time I posted Chapter 5 and would have fit in as Chapter 11, but it just didn't make sense with all the additional plot points I'd shoved in.

I've redacted the parts that could potentially get my tumblr banned btw please donut laugh when you see it.

Original Fic

It Took Years

Length

2,300 words

_____________

“Geralt, remember when I released you from prison and saved you from the Nilfgaardians a year ago?”

The white wolf raised his eyebrows in surprise. Roche had never called in a favour for him, and he could tell that Geralt knew it was going to be quite significant. He had thought about it too many times and despite the embarrassment and possibly never being able to look the witcher in the eye, he simply had no other choice.

“Look, I just need you to help Iorveth and I create an alibi.”

“... Uh-huh?”

“We have a meeting with Dijkstra in Novigrad in a week's time, and I plan to…” he swallowed hard when the words became momentarily stuck in his throat. It took another second for him to gather his courage to speak, and the slight tremble in his voice was immediately noticeable.

“I plan to spend the night with Iorveth in one of the inns the night before. But we need someone to cover us.”

The white wolf seemed to grow even paler and his lips pressed together in contemplation.

“You know that I have enhanced senses.”

“I know, but I need to make sure that no one catches us. Not the Scoia'tael, Blue Stripes, Dijkstra’s spies, Redanian spies, any Nilfgaardian-”

“Alright, alright, I get it. You just need to make sure that everyone thinks that I invited you two for a drink and make sure that no one is listening in.”

“I know I’m asking a lot of you, but you’re the only one I can trust in this situation. I haven’t… Iorveth and I don’t have any other opportunities. I can’t even hold his hand without worrying that someone is watching.”

Geralt stared blankly at him and Roche’s heart began to pump harder. His worry must have shown on his face, for the witcher immediately sighed and shook his head.

“Come to the Chameleon. I’ll get you guys a suite. With a wall to separate the living area and the bedroom.”

Roche looked up at him and down a few times, wondering first if Geralt had misspoke, and then if he had misheard. When the witcher said nothing and shrugged, Roche finally accepted it with a nod.

“Thanks, Geralt. Drinks are on me,” he muttered and hung his head a little. Embarrassment was beginning to burn his cheeks.

“Don’t mention it. I’ll see you soon.”

<center>_________________________</center>

“Why are we here so early when Geralt only wanted to see us after sundown,” Iorveth whispered as they passed the guards that almost ripped their papers in half. Roche had smooth-talked his way in and Iorveth was impressed, even though he didn't let it show.

They had set aside their armour and entered the city dressed as merchants: Roche in a nondescript outfit that let him blend in with the rest of the nobles, and Iorveth draped in a cloak that obscured his elven features.

The sun was nowhere near setting when they arrived in the city. Roche had intended to take him on a date around the city, but didn’t want to admit it.

“I didn’t want to disappoint Geralt by being late.”

“Gwynbleidd would have understood.”

“Well, since we’re already here, we might as well explore the city. I heard of a tavern along the docks with an elven cook. Would you like to go there?”

The mention of food changed Iorveth’s expression immediately and Roche suppressed his laughter.

They dined at the Golden Sturgeon, where Iorveth immediately received preferential treatment from a redhead with freckles (it's Bea btw). She made sure to seat them in a relatively hidden corner and Roche could see the elf progressively relax as his shoulders began to sag. He even spotted the hints of a smile dancing on his lips when she put some strange fish dish in front of him.

Just when Roche thought that Iorveth was incapable of enjoying himself even more, he became increasingly pliant when they sat down at the Chameleon for a pint while a band played in the background. Roche didn't understand the first thing about music, but his two mugs of ale were enough to get him to keep his reservations.

Besides, he had something really cute to look at.

The elf's cloak was finally down and he could see the tips of his pointed ears twitch with every beat of the drum. He thought about how nice it would have been to pin him down to the bed and toy with his ears. His eyes trailed across the elf’s neck. If they didn’t have anywhere to be tomorrow, he would have left bite marks across that smooth skin.

<em>Mine,</em> he thought, and he wanted the world to know once all this was over.

“You play the recorder don’t you,” Roche asked out of the blue. Their eyes met and Iorveth was slightly startled by the intensity of his gaze, but he didn’t back down.

“Yeah. There’s been too much going on recently and I haven’t had the chance to though.”

“You can practice with mine tonight.”

“Vernon,” Iorveth warned with a glare, and then quickly glanced around the room to see if anyone was within earshot. There wasn’t, but the tension in his body didn’t leave.

“I could polish yours all night too, you know.”

The elf flinched and could see the pink develop along the tops of Iorveth’s high cheekbones and the tips of his ear. Past his flustered expression however, there was a particular heat blossoming in his eyes. Roche didn’t let up, his curiosity driving him to see just how much he could take it.

“My carrying case is a bit small, but I’m sure yours will fit in with a bit of a shove."

This time, Iorveth couldn't resist the urge to push back. Dandelion's tavern was filled with his regulars who were deep in their own conversations, and they were just talking about music, right?

"So you admit that my instrument is bigger."

"Well the quality of the instrument doesn't matter if the musician has no idea how to handle it."

"I think we've proven that I'm the better player though."

"Our last few encounters haven't exactly been skewed in my favour and I still managed."

"There is no fairness in music and in battle. You should know this, <em>Commander</em>."

The way Iorveth said the word made his mouth go dry.

Now <em>that</em> was truly unfair, and his [banana] agreed. He was seconds away from tugging Iorveth upstairs when the doors swung open and in stepped the white wolf.

"Geralt!" he called out and waved a hand.

"Nice to see you both. I hope you didn't wait long."

The witcher took a few steps towards them, sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose. He had this resigned look about him and Roche immediately knew that he could smell their arousal.

"Let's drink in my room," Geralt suggested and grabbed four mugs of ale from a passing waitress. She protested at first, but nodded and flashed him a huge smile when she saw who he was.

They headed up the stairs and Roche had to try very hard not to openly stare at Iorveth's ass. It [eggplant] and he had no choice but to stare ruefully at the ground.

As soon as he saw that the second floor was empty, he reached out and pinched the elf's behind. Iorveth jumped at the touch and almost spilled his own mug of ale, and Roche was treated to one of those embarrassed glares. They quietly ascended another flight of stairs and neared the room, and Roche could feel his heart race and his breathing grow ragged.

Finally, after two weeks of planning and trying to fit all the pieces together, it was happening. It had been a year since Dol Blathanna and months since they started seeing each other, and Roche was raring to go.

Geralt opened the door to a suite on the top floor that was exactly as he described: a small living area with a table for four and a few sparse furnishings, though it was far more comfortable than the arrangements he was used to. Partitioned off by a wall and door was a bedroom mostly occupied by a sizable bed and more pillows than he could count. A decision made by the bard, no doubt.

As soon as the door closed behind them and they set down their mugs, Roche grabbed Iorveth’s collar and shoved him towards the bedroom. The elf looked mortified and nearly lost his footing, but he recovered within the span of a few steps. He grabbed Roche’s arms and plucked them off him, then tried to shove him backwards but Roche held his ground.

“What the fuck, Roche?!”

Roche took a step back and considered Iorveth’s anger. The elf's gaze had grown sharp and alert, but he was mostly just shocked at the audacity of his actions. He just flashed him a devious smile and was returned a twitch of confusion.

“What? Didn’t you always like roughhousing me on the forest floor?”

“Not in front of Gwyn-”

Roche barely gave Iorveth a chance to answer. He charged forward, wrapped an arm around the elf’s waist, and threw him straight into bed. Iorveth went flying into the mattress with a groan and Roche climbed straight into his lap. Heavy footsteps thudded behind them and stopped by the door.

“Oil’s on the nightstand. Don’t get the sheets dirty and take your shoes off before you get in bed dammit. I can’t afford to pay for new sheets too.”

“Gwynbleidd, what is the meaning of this.”

“Just a little gift from me to the both of you. Have fun, Iorveth. Just try not to make too much noise.”

The door behind them closed and Iorveth just stared blankly at Roche, who was already taking off his top. No words came out of the elf’s gaping mouth, so Roche blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Enjoying the date so far?”

“Explain yourself Roche, I’m not-”

The elf had to pause when Roche began grinding in his lap. It worked until it didn't, and Iorveth grabbed onto his hips to still them. Roche just wanted to get to the fucking already, but the elf refused to be distracted no matter how much he tried.

“Did you plan all this? Coming to my camp to pick me up. Picking flowers for me along the path. Bringing me to the tavern for dinner. Having drinks. This fake meeting with Gwynbleidd.”

“Of course. When else was I going to get the opportunity to take you out on a date?”

Something in Iorveth cracked visibly and Roche went dead still with nervousness. The other lowered his gaze and Roche cupped his face in his hands, desperate for his elf to be okay. He stroked his cheek gently and tilted his head up to try and get a better look at that unreadable expression. This was the opposite of what he hoped would happen and worry began to pool in his stomach.

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong. Talk to me,” he urged and placed a peck on the scarred cheek. There was no answer, so he continued fluttering kisses along his jawline. He felt like his world might come crashing down at any moment and resisted the urge to salvage the situation before he knew what was going on.

It felt like Iorveth was cycling through a thousand and one emotions. He cupped the elf's face in his hands and pulled back, where he was greeted by a vulnerability he had never seen before. The other had this dazed and awed look in his eyes, and if Roche wasn't so flustered by the sudden change of pace, he might he caught his surrender.

“Vernon…”

“I’m here. What is it? You can tell me.”

“It’s just...overwhelming.”

“In a good way or bad way?”

“Good way.”

Roche released the breath he didn’t realise he had been holding. It was nice that the reaction was somewhat positive, but Roche’s poor heart couldn’t take the anticipation. Surprising Iorveth was turning out to be quite bad for his health.

“Well. Have you enjoyed yourself?”

“Mmn.”

“It's okay. We'll take it at your pace.”

“I just... need some time to process this. I’ve never been treated like this before. It's overwhelming.”

“Well you deserve it. Take the time you need, it’s okay,” Roche encouraged again and placed another peck on his nose as he undid the bandanna that obscured half his face.

This really wasn’t how he thought the evening would go, but he had to admit that it was nice. At the core of it, all he really wanted was to be able to kiss and hold Iorveth intimately without fear of someone catching them. Now they were in bed and there was someone trustworthy to watch their backs, he supposed he had achieved his goal. Maybe they could just hold off the fucking for a while more.

“Do you want to take a nap with me,” Roche offered after they'd sat in silence for a while.

“Yeah… I would like that very much.”

Iorveth tried to take off his cloak, but Roche shushed him and pushed his hands aside. The elf had a blank look on his face and hurt momentarily flashed across his eye.

"Let me," Roche rushed to salvage as he pulled loose the strings on his cloak.

“I can undress myself you know.”

“I know you can, but just let me pamper you a bit more.”

The tips of Iorveth's ears were bright red and Roche suppressed the urge to tease him about it. Slowly, he helped the elf strip down to his underwear and slipped him beneath the sheets. Then he took off his own garments and joined him, snuggling up to that warm and slender body that seemed to fit so perfectly with his.

Yeah, he could wait.

#cut content #iorveth x roche #iorveth #vernon roche #witcher 2 #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own #drabbles #it took years

[polyamoryinfandoms]

Monthly Fic Roundup!

Hey gang! I’m posting the fics that were recommended on our last surveymonkey poll; thanks for everyone who recommended fics. Please note I did not get to read every fic on here and depended on your responses and the AO3 tags to mark for any triggers or story notes, so please read with caution if you’re worried about any content warnings!

If you want to recommend more fics, I’ll be posting another roundup poll later in the day today! 

Under the cut are 32 fics from: 

Agents of Shield (1) 

Bill & Ted (1) 

Castlevania (1) 

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (1) 

DCU (2) 

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (4) 

Game of Thrones (1) 

Harry Potter (1) 

Leverage (1) 

Mission Impossible (1 -- series) 

Sanders Sides (1-- series)

Sense8 (1)

Sherlock (1-- series) 

Star Wars (1) 

Stranger Things (8) 

The Man from U.N.C.L.E. (1) 

The Untamed/CQL/MDZS (2)

Teen Wolf (2) 

White Collar (1) 

Agents of Shield: 

is it chill that you’re in my head? by lazyfish 

Pairing: Lance Hunter/Bobbi Morse/Alphonso Mackenzie

TW/TAGS: PTSD, Referenced Torture

Summary: It doesn't take long for Mack to realize he's in love with Bobbi and Hunter and has been for a while. Other realizations take slightly longer.

Bill and Ted (movie):

Our Home, Our Family, Our Love by CaptainWeasley

Pairing: Bill/Ted/Elizabeth/Joanna

TW/TAGS: slurs, implied/referenced child abuse, internalized homophobia, self harm

Summary: A series of firsts in Ted's life, as he slowly comes to terms with his sexuality and learns how to handle being in love with both his wife and his best friend. When Billie and Thea come out as trans, each in her own way, he does everything he can to help them be who they are.

Castlevania: 

Deliverance by cricketsong1985

Pairing: Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades/Alucard

TW/Tags: Blood kink, explicit sexual content,  gore, trauma, angst

Summary: Adrian is beginning to think that Wallachia will be a smoking pile of ash long before he, Trevor, and Sypha can stop Dracula’s war on humanity. They’ve been chasing the castle for months, but each time they get close, it vanishes. Traveling with such genuine and trustworthy allies has been unexpectedly pleasant; Adrian doesn’t mind that Trevor and Sypha are involved with each other, but he is taken entirely by surprise when they open their relationship to him one evening. Hopelessly in over his head, his heart keeps urging him forward, even when he’s forced to confront the darkest aspects of his nature. Adrian must learn to swallow his pride and let himself be vulnerable if he wants a chance at happiness. Unfortunately, there isn’t much time for looking within when the world is drenched in blood and magic, and the path to victory may destroy him completely.

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina: 

We will be judged by the courage of our hearts by MagicClem

Pairing: Harvey Kinkle/Sabrina Spellman/Nicholas Scratch

TW/TAGS: mention of an abusive parent 

Summary: It's been a month since the 13 almost destroyed Greendale. Now a full Witch, Sabrina tries to move on, with the help of one Nicholas Scratch.But one night, Harvey arrives at the Spellman's house and everything becomes complicated.

DCU: 

not for the faint of heart by pasdecoeur

Pairing: Hal Jordan/Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent

TW/TAGS: Explicit Sexual Content 

Summary: Clark opens a door that was meant to stay closed. Things spiral. or, What Not To Do When You’ve Fallen in Love with Batman: A Guide by Hal Jordan & Clark Kent.

All Good Things Come in Threes (Legends of Tomorrow) by IncendiaGlacies

Pairing: Gideon/Rip Hunter/Miranda Coburn

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting

Summary: “Two is a couple, three is a crowd,” Gideon stated. In which Gideon navigates her polyamorous relationship with Rip and Miranda. Domestic slice of life goodness.

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off:

Pairing for all of these are Pairing: Cameron/Ferris/Sloane and are written by @fbdo1986

it’s enough to be whiplash

TW: death mention (no character death), drowning

A/N: To put it plainly, I took a few tricks from John Hughes’s earlier scripts of the film, which were more surreal and up-front with discussing death and end of the world scenarios. It was inspired by a concept that I couldn’t seem to shake after I thought of it: what if the pool scene was just a bit more high stakes?

all the things I never told you 

Summary: It’s Sloane, Ferris, and Cameron’s first afternoon alone at the Bueller residence in months. The busy twenty-four year olds who’ve struggled to find time together as their lives unfold in front of them try to think of what to do for the day when Cameron decides to let them in on what he’s been keeping from them.

bye bye love 

TW: Death mention (none of the main characters)

Summary: A hopefully angsty number that details Sloane’s, Cameron’s, and Ferris’s journey through heartbreak and loss after their Sophomore year in college. The title is named after a song by The Cars by the same name!

firestarter

Prompt #5: Where it doesn’t hurt with the OT3

Game of Thrones: 

Constellatory by blueandbulae

Pairing: Theon Greyjoy/Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell/Robb Stark (polycule, NO incest) 

TW: Some canon typical violence

Summary: It’s strange and messy and maybe nobody else will ever understand them but it works. It’s theirs, and theirs alone, and nobody can take that from them.Or: Robb and Theon storm King's Landing, rescue the princesses, and save the kingdom. Then comes the hard part.

Harry Potter: 

Unconventional by silver_fish

Pairing: Harry Potter/Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger

Summary: A few years, now, have passed since Hedwig’s death, and Hermione thinks it’s time Harry got a new pet. What sort of pet, though, neither she nor Ron know. Not until Harry himself offers her the perfect solution, that is.

Leverage: 

for better or worse (we change together) by idkimoutofideas

Pairing: Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer

TW/TAGS: Canon typical violence

Summary: The moment Parker saw the stranger standing by the elevator, a dozen alarm bells went off in her head. She froze, and Hardison nearly walked into her as he entered behind her. It took her a moment to realize that while half of the alarm bells were telling her to get the fuck out of there, the other half were telling her to look closer. Or, Eliot Spencer is a recent war veteran who just moved to Portland in an attempt to lead a calmer lifestyle. He ends up with some weird neighbors, but it's Portland, everyone's a little weird.

Mission Impossible: 

Polyamorous Spies (series of 2 fics) by MagicClem

Pairing: Benji Dunn/Ethan Hunt/Ilsa Faust

TW/TAGS: Blood & injuries (2nd fic) 

Sander’s Sides: 

Love and Other Fairytales by SoDoRoses (Fairychess)

Pairing: LAMP/CALM (Logan, Roman, Virgil, Patton)

TW: violence, major character death, no NSFW in the main fic but there is a side series with NSFW, animal death, description of rot, nonconsentual control of another person, 'like death' state of being

Sense8: 

Crazy Life by MagicClem

Pairing: Kala Dandekar/Wolfgang Bogdanow/Rajan Rasal

Summary: Rajan would admit that this past few years had been crazy and life seems determined to make it crazier and crazier.Or: This is "Amor Vincit Omnia" from Rajan's perspective.

Sherlock: 

Lorem Ipsum by Saathi1013 (series) 

Pairing:  Sherlock Holmes/John Watson/Sarah Sawyer

TW: Abduction

Star Wars:

so just pull the trigger by Darnaguen

Pairing: Han Solo/Qi'ra/Lando Calrissian

TW/TAGS: Alcohol use 

Summary: “Oh, don’t pout Haan.” Lando lounges back, licking his newly berry-tinted lips with a lazy grin. “You know all you have to do is ask.”(Qi’ra’s eyes are glinting and her smile is dagger-sharp. Han knows the look: it’s one she wears whenever she has a winning hand.The dice on the table are mediocre at best. He shakes his head and drinks deep.)

Stranger Things: 

All pairings are Steve Harrington/Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler

The Hawkins Three by nonymos

TW: Some canon typical homophobia and slurs

Summary: It's two weeks after the Snow Ball, Nancy's officially with Jonathan, and Steve is trying to move forward. If only he wasn't on a path that keeps circling back to the both of them.

lovers in a dangerous time by diogxnes

TW/TAGS: Briefly: panic attacks/PTSD, parental neglect

Summary: “So,” says Robin, sitting back in her chair, “what’s the deal there, anyway? With the whole you-Nancy-Jonathan thing.”The question makes his mouth run dry. Why would she ask that? Can she tell, possibly, how much he’s been thinking about Nancy these past few days? How starstruck he was when Nancy showed up at his house? Does she know about the mysterious warmth in his stomach when he thinks about Jonathan? “What do you mean, the whole me-Nancy-Jonathan thing?” “Come on, Steve. She’s your ex and he famously beat you up two years ago and now they’re dating each other and all three of you somehow ended up a part of this weird little monster-fighting club together. There’s gotta be a story there.”“I don’t know, Robs,” says Steve, rolling his eyes, relieved beyond measure that that’s all she meant. “You pretty much just covered all of it. There’s not much more to tell.”

Have Happened by cortexikid

TW/TAGS: Homophobia

Summary: "I overheard you. You were talking in your sleep.”Steve's heart fluttered nervously.“It was a little funny at first,” Nancy admitted, her tone a mix of teasing and apologetic, “you were moaning my name and I thought it’d be kinda funny if Mike accidentally overheard you having a sex dream about his sister—”Steve couldn’t control the guffaw that escaped him. “But then you said Jonathan’s name. Right after mine. All in the same breath.”

it’s a risk, it’s a gamble by nondz (pinkjook)

TW/TAGS: NSFW

Summary: “I think we should pretend to date,” Robin says. "What?" Steve answers.

still turning out by scoutshonor

TW/TAGS: Homophobic language

Summary: Steve knows senior year's supposed to be tough, but seriously?Not only does his dad want him to take over his business, but he lands himself into a fight with his best friend leaving him friendless and booted out of his inner-circle, gets stuck watching a bunch of kids after school because of a missing credit, has to repeat eleventh grade history, and, oh yeah. He has the minor issue of having no idea what he actually wants to do with his life.But it's not all that bad: not the kids he has to watch, and certainly not Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers, two friends from his history class. Friends. Just friends. Yeah, he and you both know that's bullshit.Steve's got a lot of figuring out to do.(or: HSAU Stoncy with Steve as a senior, doing his best)

(Following Stoncy fics are by @pterawaters​) 

Now and For Always 

TW/TAGS: Explicit, Sex where one party is drunk and the other isn't

Summary: Between graduating from college, starting new careers, and planning a wedding, the summer of 1990 is a busy time for Nancy, Steve, and Jonathan. When a war starts in the middle east, Jonathan gets called away just three weeks before the wedding. He’s determined to make it back in time, no matter what it takes.

It's not like people live like this

TW/TAGS: Car Accidents, Period-Typical Homophobia, NSFW

Summary: Concerned that Steve's less-than-stellar grades might have been making them look bad, his parents hired him a tutor, Jonathan Byers, they were sure he wouldn't find as distracting as his last one. Sure, Jonathan had good grades in school, but he really wished he didn't have to take the extra work to help his mother put food on the table. After all, everyone knew Steve Harrington was a jerk. Right? It turned out, not so much. After an impromptu study-session-turned-party and a game of spin the bottle, Steve and Jonathan both found themselves dating Nancy Wheeler. And that wasn't even the strangest thing that happened to any of them that week.

Mr. Sandman (series) 

TW/TAGS: Canon-typical violence, Explicit scenes

The Man from U.N.C.L.E.: 

Simmer On Low by canardroublard

Pairing: Illya/Napoleon/Gaby

TW/TAGS: semi-implied consensual voyeurism, whump

Summary: Scenes from five kitchens.

The Untamed/CQL/MDZS: 

inclusions by keiyashi 

Pairing: Sòng Lán | Sòng Zǐchēn/Xiǎo Xīngchén/Xuē Yáng | Xuē Chéngměi

TW/TAGS: NSFW

Summary: “I guess I feel left out. And I’m asking you to show me how not to?”“Show you?” Xue Yang laughs, easing the tension the only way he knows how. “Daozhang, if you aren’t careful, I might think you’re implying something quite forward.”Xingchen blinks at him. “Xue Yang, I feel like you’re trying to embarrass me, but that is what I was implying.”

melting the glacier by keiyashi 

Pairing: Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén/Mèng Yáo | Jīn Guāngyáo/Niè Míngjué

Summary: Wanting to be with Nie Mingjue is something Lan Xichen accepted about himself long ago. He wants only happiness for his friend, no matter what form it takes. Even if that form is quite lovely and possesses an enchanting mouth.

Teen Wolf: 

Feels Better Biting Down by callunavulgari, hiza-chan (callunavulgari)

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale/Lydia Martin

TW/TAGS: Blood

That I See You by FiccinDylan

Pairing: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski/Jordan Parris

TW/TAGS: NSFW, abo, m-preg (non graphic), werewolves, triads are normal

Summary: Deputy Jordan Parrish and Chef Derek Hale are in the prime of their lives and ready to take the next step in their relationship by courting an omega. Everything seems to be progressing smoothly until the new omega (aka Stiles Stilinski, the sheriff’s son) surfaces some unresolved tension from Jordan’s past. Jordan originally had the benefit of amnesia to block out his harried background, but now with his amnesia behind him, will he be able to resolve his past before he ruins his future?

White Collar: 

Always Starts the Same, with a Boy and a Girl by lightgetsin

Pairing: Neal Caffrey/Peter Burke/Elizabeth Burke

Tags: AU 

Summary: Summer, 1998. Neal Caffrey robs the gallery where Elizabeth O'Dell is working late, and comes away with a lot more than art. Agent Burke has no idea what's about to hit him.

#fic roundup #pif fic roundup #fanfiction #agents of shield #bill and ted #castlevania #Chilling Adventures of Sabrina #dcu #Ferris Bueller's Day Off #game of thrones #harry potter #leverage #mission impossible #sanders sides #sense8 #sherlock #star wars #stranger things #the man from uncle #the untamed #teen wolf #white collar

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Snowed In

Y'all, the quarantine hit hard. This fic is 100% self serving but I'm posting it in case it makes anyone else feel better? To add some spicy self loathing to my day? who knows. 

No legit pairings, a tiny bit of hinting angstiness, for the sake of form, Geralt x fem!reader

Warnings: defs big warning for anxiety and depression. I don't think there's anything else? Lmk if there is and I'll edit this.

__________

“Snowed in?” you repeated, having just packed everything up and saddled both Roach and your horse Beau. 

Geralt nodded grimly, “We’ll just have to hope Jaskier hears of the weather before he tries to make it here. The mail carrier is refusing to ride the pass.”

You heaved your saddlebags down with a slightly over dramatic grunt before turning to face him, “Is it a passing storm or do they think it’s headed for us?”

He shrugged and began untacking Roach, “You’ll have to ask the innkeeper. I just heard from someone who was turned back.” 

You both finished putting the horses back in their stalls, throwing a little extra hay over the side in case you didn’t want to face the cold after dinner. The innkeeper looked frantic, attempting to deal with about five angry customers, so you headed for the connected tavern instead. In your experience, bartenders knew more scuttlebutt anyway. 

Surprisingly you two were the only ones in the bar. The pretty blonde poured the two of you a beer and slapped a loaf of bread down between you before you could utter a word of request. Something rather unusual since traveling with Geralt. 

“How long do you think this will last?” you asked, handing the woman a couple of gold coins. 

She shrugged, “Last year it was mild. Just a week I think? But the year before that the town was stuck for almost a month.”

“Hm- huh? What day is it?” you mumbled as Geralt shook you awake. 

“Twenty-three. Get up.” He ordered. The process had become routine. The two of you were stuck in a rather small room together due to overcrowding and you weren’t handling the idle time very well. 

Geralt seemed completely content to meditate by the fire and meticulously repair his armor for the rest of eternity. While you had quickly become catatonic. 

You sat up only because you knew he would lift you out of the bed completely if you didn’t do it yourself, “Ah yes, what a beautiful day to feed the horses and drink our weight in ale.” 

The sarcasm dripping from your voice only earned a stern look from your roommate. The inn had run out of the drinkable stuff last week and they were rationing little the piss water they had left.

You scratched at your hair, your hand recoiling at the feel of grease. There was nothing to do, the floor space between the bed and the fire was barely big enough for Geralt to sit cross-legged, let alone for you to do any sort of exercise to keep your mood up. Not that you would if you could anyway. Any motivation to keep some sort of normalcy had left your body around day ten. The innkeeper had let some guests spar in the lobby around day six but everyone scattered when you had attempted to join. Something about ‘the witcher’s girl’ and how ‘she might gut you out of habit’. People could be stupid, you weren’t a witcher any more than they were and even so, Geralt was calmer and more restrained than all of them combined.  

So, embracing the numbness, you stayed in bed well into the afternoon and long after Geralt had left his side of the bed.

“Did I miss breakfast again?” you asked, not making a move to get any farther from your warm blankets.

Geralt nodded, pointing to the small table near the door where some bread,  cheese, and dried meat sat waiting. 

You picked at it for his benefit, though you hadn’t really been hungry for a few days now. The storm raging outside was just about as strong as the one raging through your hollow insides. This inaction, the unknowing, the vulnerability was killing you. 

“Y/N, you need to eat more than the crumbs.” Geralt urged, moving to sit in the chair opposite to you. 

“I tried.” You sighed, “Can’t I just lay back down?”

He shook his head, “No. You’re letting this consume you. You’re tougher than this.”

You scowled at him, wanting to throw the bread in his face, “Fuck you. Nothing bothers you.”

“Your behavior is bothering me.” he countered, staring at you with a mix of worry and annoyance.

“Well isn’t that touching.” You sighed in mock flattery. Abandoning any idea of food, you got up to sit by the fire,  poking at it aggressively with an iron rod and making a point to face away from him. 

“What in the spheres is your problem?” He growled.

“Being stuck here with nothing to do?” you offered, your tone reminiscent of the young spoiled princess the two of you had saved from a wraith a few months back. 

“That’s not it. I know when you’re lying Y/N”

Your limbs felt like they might float away into the air if you didn’t curl up into a ball, “I don’t want to talk about it Geralt. I’m sorry for snapping. I just need a couple of minutes.”

“You’ve needed ‘a couple of minutes’ for the past two weeks. Time to talk.” he argued. 

You snorted, “That’s rich coming from you. You didn’t tell me you’d been stabbed until right before you passed out in Temeria.”

“I’ve tried learning from my mistakes.” his tone was one of convincing the both of you, “What's bothering you? Really.”

“I don’t fucking know Geralt.” you hissed, getting very tired of his prying.

You heard him sit back and cross his arms, “Not good enough.”

You felt the words leave your throat before you could think of their meaning, spewing out with vitriol and fire, “I’m fucking tired. I’m tired of you telling me what to do. I’m tired of watching snow pile up out the damn window. I’m tired of the stupid couple that fucks all night next door. I’m tired of this worry that feels like it will rip me apart at any fucking moment from just not fucking knowing. I’m tired of worrying about Jaskier. I’m tired of worrying about the horses getting stocked up when there’s nothing I can do to help them. I’m tired of the glares from the other guests. I’m tired of feeling powerless. I’m tired of having no decent outlet for this anxious energy I’m stuck with. I’m tired of not knowing when this feeling will go away. And I’m absolutely fucking exhausted by the thought that it’s only been twenty-fucking-three days yet I feel I’ve been trapped here for a god-damned-eternity.” 

The last sentence broke your resolve to stay angry. Upon pushing the last words from your lungs, you heaved a deep breath and let the sobs tear your chest apart, giving in to the hopelessness that had been building for weeks now. 

You heard a shuffling that registered in the back of your mind as Geralt sitting behind you, but even so, you flinched when a hand rested on your shoulders. He scooped one hand under your knees and pulled you onto his lap, pulling a blanket from the bed and wrapping it around the two of you. He let you sob until the sobs turned to whimpers.

“I didn’t realize, I’m sorry Y/N” he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your hair, sending a flood of warmth to your cheeks.

“You don’t need to be.” you croaked, leaning into his affection.

“I didn’t need to pry either.” He argued.

You just hummed in reply, too much of your energy spent on purging your system of those hideous sobs. You did make a noise of protest when he lifted you from his lap and set you beside him on the floor. 

“Stay by the fire, I’ll be back.” He instructed, the tenderness of his voice surprising you. 

Minutes later, as you were beginning to pull yourself back together, he returned with a terry cloth robe and what smelled like fresh jasmine soap. Without a word, he hoisted you into his arms and carried you across the room to the bathroom. He set you on your feet and handed you the robe and soap before turning his attention to the lever pump hanging over the ceramic tub. 

“A bath?” You tried to bring your usual playful tone back to life and failed miserably.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” 

You shook your head, “I’m just…” slightly disoriented? you finished the sentence in your head, not sure how to phrase it.

“Not used to anyone accommodating your emotions.” he finished, a knowing look in his eyes reminding you just how much he knew of isolation and pain. 

As you nodded you had to mentally remind yourself you have to let people help you, that it’s okay to let people help you.

You didn’t bother waiting for him to leave before you peeled off your riding breeches. Melitele only knows how long you’d gone without changing them. You had more trouble unlacing the cinched waist blouse you’d been wearing the last four days. The restless tossing and turning you’d done instead of sleeping had it knotted four times over. When you’d finally rid yourself of every last thread the tub was full. 

Geralt traced a sign in the water, sending ripples over the surface and steam up in the air, “Shouldn’t be too hot, but test it first.” He mumbled, making an effort not to stare at you too long. 

It was rather hot but you had exposed yourself enough for one day. You took the hand he offered for balance and sank into the nearly scalding water without hesitation.

He knelt next to you, “If you wish to be alone-”

“No.” You interrupted, not having the courage to look up at him, “Please don’t go.” The words barely escaped your mouth, but Geralt heard them perfectly fine.

He wet a washcloth and lathered it with soap before handing it off to you. With the rest of the bar, he began washing your hair. At first, his hands were hesitant, as if he was afraid to hurt you. He paused when you gave up scrubbing the sweat and dirt from behind your knees, but only for a moment. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes. His nails scratched at the base of your skull, coaxing a sigh from your lips. As he massaged the soap through the tangled mess he took his time with the tension in your temples, then the pressure points behind your ears, even working out the knots in your neck. You did your best not to moan, but a couple of gasps and pleased grunts may have slipped out.  He rested a hand between your shoulders and guided you back, dipping your hair into the water to rid it of the froth he’d created. 

You peeked up at him through your lashes. If he noticed he didn’t show it. His face was relaxed, almost serene, as he raked his fingers through your hair, gently tugging on the bigger tangles. You hadn’t ever taken the time to look at his eyes before, he seemed uncomfortable over them when you’d met so you left him alone about it. Looking at them now, you regretted it. They were a beautiful mix of honey, sunflowers, and glittering gold. And they were so kind. The idea that people spat at him when they recognized his eyes made your heart ache. 

With a slight nudge from him, you sat back up, all the tension in your body having melted in the hot water or under his touch. You pulled your knees to your chest, resting your arms across them and your chin on your arms. The events of the day had you feeling like a child who’d gone too long without a nap being soothed back to sleep. If you were being honest with yourself you missed the feeling of safety that came with someone taking care of you. 

Geralt brushed your favorite oils through your hair, doing his best not to pull through knots too roughly, but it was in the same bun for about four days. 

You let your tired mind wander as you watched snow fall out the small port window above the tub. The comb had failed to detect any knots in your hair for some time but it seemed Geralt was just as lost in thought as you.

Eventually the water grew cold and you had to accept this couldn’t go on forever. 

“I think I might need to get out soon.” you mumbled, inspecting your pruney fingers. Everything in you was telling you to stay. Stay in this safe place with your gentle guardian. But you knew if you didn’t get out soon you’d never warm up, fire or not. Not to mention you knew you were taking Geralt’s actions more to heart than they were meant. He simply felt guilty for pushing you too far. 

That didn’t mean you wanted him gone though. You were more than happy to live the lie for a little while longer.

"I'll go check the horses." He offered, placing a towel and the robe within your reach. 

"Thank you, Geralt. For not… I don't know? Laughing at me?" You refused to look at him, being vulnerable enough as you already were. 

"Y/N…" he said your name like it meant something but you couldn't figure out what, "You never have to thank me. I owe you so much more than a hot bath and kind words." 

You turned your head to argue but when you saw his expression the words died on your tongue. All you could offer in response was a small smile.

It seemed to be enough for him and he nodded before disappearing through the door, leaving you to ponder what he'd meant. 

_________

Part 2 here!

#plz hit me with the feedback! even if it's just a hobby I always want to get better #geralt of rivia oneshot #geralt of rivia #geralt one shot #geralt x reader #can we consider this soft!geralt #the witcher #geralt comfort fic #the witcher netflix #the witcher novels #the witcher one shot #comfort fic #geralt of rivia comfort fic #the witcher fan fic #did i intend for this to simply be comforting and dancing on the edge of feelings territory? yes #did i expect to be very motivated to follow it up with some smutt? no #will i? #we'll see. #I've got shit loads of free time bc of the 'rona #and I'm house sitting so like no interruptions?

[jt-artsandfics]

So I don't knwo if anyone will actually ever read this. Maybe if I post it one day but who knows. But hi.

I'm Julian. T in a 21 year old transgender aboriginal guy. from the small town of G.H.M Austraila. And this is my life story.

I was originally born Tareena with a different middle and last name. July is my birth month. And I was born in 2000. I was a very sick baby my mother was in labour for 36 hours with me. I am her first born.

I got really sick becuase I had fluid in my lungs, I was lucky that I survived, But I did. I don't remember much of my younger childhood other then my parents fighting. My father was my mother's drug dealer back in high school. And she was daughter of the local police chief.

I remember my first ever day at school. I was bawling my eyes out and I had the most horrendous shade of red lipstick smeared on my lips.

That was the year I met my best friend for life/my brother from another mother. His name is Ben. He was the only one I really liked at school most of the other kids didn't get along with me. But I had him.

He has been there for me thought everything. When I had just turned 7 my aunt and uncle got married. It was a beautiful wedding. But if only I knew what it entitled. That was the same year my parents broke up and more.

That was the year alot of stuff started. The sexual abuse and molesting from my uncle. I still remember it all very vividly to the point I can walk though one go the buildings today and point out exact spots where he would hide with use to touch us.

I was lucky, my cousin walked in on us when my uncle was going to go further then he normally did. If it was for him at that time I most likely would have been raped.

I didn't really understand but I knew something wasn't right. He use for make us watch porn with him and it still makes my skin crawl.

I like to think things work thought karma and luck. One day I stayed home from school becuase i wasn't well had. Avery bad fever. And mum had to work. (She worked 6 jobs to support three kids after her and my father divorced.) She had left the Tv on for me and I was skipping thought channels. A really pretty actress who I don't knwo the name of came onto a talk show, and I watched it. She takes about what had happened to her when she was 10 playing as a child star of a show.

She shared what had happened with her producer. How he black mailed her and sexually assaulted, abused and raped her over the years she was their. She talked about she wish she had the courage back them to tell someone. And that if she could be the courage for someone else suffering then it means what she went thought would mean something.

It hit me hard and I believe she gave me the courage to do what I did. It scared the shit out of me. But one day I was told by my mum I had to go and stay at my uncle's for the night and I was terrified. I tried talking my way out of it by asking to go to friends places but in the end I couldn't.

My mum asked me why I really didn't want to go and if something had happened. I told her not to be mad at me and told her what my uncle had been doign to us. I told her about how he's make us strip down and lay on a bed so he could look over us like we were fucking meat. And I let it all out to her.

She was horrified. Had to calm me down and ask me if what i was saying was true. I told her it was and front there alot of shit happened that day. My mother nearly killed 'Darren' she had to be locked with us at the police department while they talked with my sister and I.

But we were too young and didn't know how to explain everything. If their is one thing I can tell you is teach your children the real name a of their genitals otherwise police won't do anything.

It was a big battle trying to get him charged my mother wanted him locked away. But sadly nothing every came of it.

We got older and I ended up spending more time with my great grandparents. My great grandfather was my world we shared a birthday of a sort with his a few days before mine. I'd see him when ever we could.

School got harder after my nana passed away. And I took up Catholicism. (Not the best choice on my part) I was 12. I did my communion and such. But after that mygrandfather moved closer and I used to spend every school after noon with him watching old john Wayne and black and white movies.

He would tell me stories of his child hood and it some something I loved.

Once I got to high school my mental health and physical health deteriorated quite quickly. I had a really creepy boyfiend who was year 11 when I was year 8. After i broke up with him he started stalking me until my younger brother and mum got involved.

After that I cut ties with alot of my friends. I only had a small group. I picked up smoking with the stoners behind the science block and hall. They were chill and let me be me. But weed only helped so much. At first I thought I wa broken. All the other 'girls' were talking about how they were having sex, had boyfriends and such and I felt so out of place. At friend I thought it wa becuase of what 'Darren' did to me.

But then I met the coolest girl at school and my first girl crush. She had dark black hair cut almost buzzed she work rings and necklaces and didn't give a shit about the school code.

She was the one who taught me girl can like girls same as guys can like guys. I hung out with her all the time. And then one day she just stopped to school I felt like I didn't belong.

I got really depressed in my next few years. Alot more smoke. I lost 3 animals I had since childhood in 3 months. It messed me up bad and then we moved again.

I was still at the same school. And that we sheen I started my friendship up wirh a girl called 'Sam'. She was my best friend for long time. Becuase at that time Ben had gotten a girlfriend. One I didn't get along with at them time but it wa becuase I thought she was a popular kid and that she was going to take my best friends away from me.

I was very unstable. I just selfharmed but not in ways that people could tell. I used to smash rocks into my head and burn my hands and feet with lighters. It made me feel more alive at the time.

It got worse once I came home with my now cat. He was 3 weeks old and I was feeding him milk off my pinkie. My step dad at the time lost his hair and fucked my mental health up even worse. I told my mum to get rid of the Cat and that when she ended up finding other newer injuries on my. I.. I had tried to rip my arms open with the sharp end of a potato peeler. Not my best moments but I can look back on it husband laughs nd how stupid I was.

Alot of stuff went down from when I as 13 to 14 wobbly step dad. But mum loved him and he never raised a hand to hurt up just he would tell alot, drink and do lots of drugs.

When I was 14 I had my first kiss with a girl. My first girlfriend and it was the best thing ever. Until she broke up with me over text.

[shaydeoffical]

I Could Get Behind That: Saeko Tanaka x Fem Reader

Soulmate Au

: In a world where the name of your worst Enemy and Romantic soulmates appear on your wrist. You can't tell which is which for sure until all people cross paths. Then you can touch the soul mark on who you think is your romantic partner, and it will change to initials. 

Summary: (Y/n) has been hiding a secret from her best friend and childhood enemy, Sakeo Tanaka. While thinking about the past, she gathers up the courage to tell her the truth.

Author's Note: I will be starting some Haikyuu Oneshots and working on how I want to write each character. I will be posting My Hero stuff as well. I am just almost done with Bright as a Diamond and want to get my next series going. Thanks for reading!

Warnings: Thunderstorms, keepings a secret, Enemies to Friends to Lovers.

I Could Get Behind That

        "It's about to thunderstorm." I tapped the passenger side window chewing on my bottom lip. Saeko was buckling in, and fixing her gear before pulling onto the road.

"Huh, it's just a little rain, no need to worry. Besides, the reports said yesterday was the worst of it." Saeko shook my shoulder to loosen my body up.

   "You're not the one afraid of storms, Saeko." A smile tugged my lips up. There was more on my mind than the impending rain. This moment wasn't the right time to discuss it, though.

   "Well you don't have to worry when I'm around, I'll always protect you. In less, you still think I'm your mortal enemy." She feigned a serious tone, holding up her soul mark.  My name was scrolled in my handwriting, the bare spot on her other hand showed she had yet to meet her other' soulmate.'

   When we first met as kids, both of us were at each other's throats. We'd fight over who got to play with the blocks, who got better grades, and who got to sit on the outside seat of the bus on field trips. Everyone said we were enemies, and that it was better to meet them as a kid because if childish betrayals were the worst thing to happen, the rest of your life would be cake.

   Like so many child enemies, we grew close. We started to argue over who would walk the other home, who'd host the sleepover, who'd get to pay for snacks. Now that we were adults, it was easier to communicate our needs and divide up our favorite tasks. Saeko always picked me up from work, we'd go to her Taiko group then she'd drive me home. In hindsight, it seems I just gave in and let Saeko treat me most of the time…  

   While having her drive me around wasn't great for my life expectancy, she did make sure to at least try following the traffic rules when I was in the car. The first time she almost veered off the side of the road, I wouldn't get in a car with her behind the wheel for two months.  

        "Break check." Saeko shoved her hand out, stopping me from bouncing forward. The car slid to a halt. Gripping the handlebar and Saeko's thigh for deer life, we stopped short of the mass in the road.

   "Oh, it's a little duck." I swallowed my anger and let it fade into relief, seeing why she had to stop so fast. "Aww, it's little waddle is the cutest. Why'd you yell brake check?"

   "Aww, the duck is cute. But you're the cutest." Saeko nudged my shoulder, slowly driving by the duck so I could look a little longer. Of course, she was avoiding my question. Part of me knew it was a reflex for when she drove alone and would test the skills of driver's riding her ass.

   "No, you." I shot back, forgetting about the pit in my stomach. "I say she was just heading towards the trees to shelter for the storm."

        "Animals are smart like that." Saeko fiddled with the radio, not taking her eyes off the radio.

        "Too bad she didn't have a friend to shelter with." A pang of guilt washed over me, the weight of the bracelet on my hand heavier.  

   "Hey, your house is just ahead. Tell me if I'm wrong, but you want me to come in for a few drinks and a thunderstorm sleepover." Pulling into my driveway, I grabbed my purse nodding at her. "Come on and say it."

   "Don't make me beg, Saeko", I warned her, but I still hoovered with the door open so she couldn't drive off. The past two days she's stayed over due to the weather. And each time, I avoided telling her the truth, despite my promising myself I would.

   "I'll do it regardless, you just look so adorable when you beg. I could never leave my little duckling all on her own." The engine shut off, and she jumped out, tossing her coat into the back seat. "Since when have I left you in your time of need?" She slung her arm around my shoulders.

   "How about when I ripped my pants at the bar on main, so you went to get me a new pair, but you forgot which bar I was at." Entering my rental home, we kicked off our shoes and went straight to the bedroom. We'd formed a routine for nights like these.      

   "How many times can I apologies for that. You were the one that wouldn't stop taking shots." Saeko changed into a tank top and some cotton shorts. I pulled on my pajamas and started to work on fixing my hair. Dancing around each other, we gathered our things and tag-teamed with gathering the laundry.  

   "You were the one that challenged me to a competition. Which I only lost because your brother kept making those silly faces." It was nearly dark outside, her club meeting lasted longer today than normal, as they had a festival coming up soon. We wouldn't have long before it was time for bed.

   "So, being a lightweight had nothing to do with it?" Saeko tapped my forehead before pushing the tag of my shirt back inside my collar. "Hm," she grabbed my wrist, going to move the bangle over my soul mark. "Since when did you start covering your mark?"

   "Stop changing the subject, you know I would have won." I got back on topic, breaking free from her hold. The warmth of her hands still lingering. "Let's just make some dinner, and get ready for bed before the storm starts."

   The pit had returned to my tummy after dinner was over. We both showered and were sitting on my bed, watching a show about building motorcycles. It wasn't my favorite kind of program, but we had spent the night before watching anime, so I could be more flexible today. Besides, listening to her complain about the mechanic's technique was so cute. Her being this close was something I wanted more of in my life.

        We had retreated to the bedroom when the show was over. We brushed our teeth and got a glass of water for the night. Saeko had the extra step of showering before bed. She always worked up a sweat at her meetings.

        Waiting in bed for her to be done, I stretched out on top of the sheets, knowing if I got in a position to sleep, I'd pass out and hog the entire bed. Plus, it was more comfortable to sleep when she was beside me. Saeko wasn't particularly tall or strong from her appearance, but she packed a punch. When we were in high school, she made sure no one got away with so much as looking at me cross.  She was my rock.

   There was a crack in the sky. My heart jumping to my throat, I sat up looking towards the bathroom door.   Saeko skidded out of the bathroom than grabbed the duvet from the foot of the bed.  Wrapping it around herself, then jumping beside me. Cuddling up, she cocooned us in the blanket, tucking it under my back. "There we go, it's okay." She promised me, smushing my face into her chest. The hot air under the cover was more suffocating that my heavenly position. She was always so soft...

   "Thanks." I trembled against her coming to my sense; the shivers were slowly easing up. When the next round of thunder came, I was already in my safe spot and didn't have a heart attack.

   "Anything for you." She hummed, tracing shapes on my back. Her breath was lingering on my neck. "Let's think about other things, okay? This storm is supposed to pass by super fast."

   "Sounds good to me." I nodded, closing my eyes.

   "Do you remember the first time we did this?" Saeko rocked us gently, back and forth. The creek of the bedsprings overtaking the distant thunder.

   "It was on our school trip to Tokyo. We were still at the arguing stage, and we got so caught up in our fight over who could sprit the longest." A water droplet from her hair plopped onto my face.

   "Than the skies opened, and I looked behind me to see you were on the ground. I'd never seen you look so venerable." Her hand clenched my shoulder, kissing my shoulder.

   "I never thought I'd see the day, but you took me in your arms and got us under the trees for coverage. I thought for sure you'd carry me like a sack of potatoes, but you were strong even back that." I hummed, remembering how I felt. "I was so mad at myself for being in that position to start with. But I think that's the first time I saw you as more than my fated enemy."

   "Can I be honest?" Saeko scooted back to better see my face.

   "Always." I swallowed the lump in my throat.

   "I liked you the moment we meet. Of course, I've always been a little rebellious and headstrong, but I never really thought about you like that. Like an enemy." The rain and thunder stopped. "Being aggressive was just how I showed my love towards Ryu, so I just thought that' how it was supposed to be. When I saw you break down, that was when I realized I had been approaching you the wrong way."

   "That didn't change our arguments", I noted, scooting closer to her. "But you added in more soft moments, like this."

   "(Y/N)?" Saeko swallowed hard. "What happened at work Thursday, and why are you still shaking. The storms over baby doll."

   Blood running cold, I chewed on my bottom lip. "Please, don't be mad at me." Tears sprung from my eyes, I clenched fists full of her shirt.

   "Never." She kissed my forehead.

   "Remember the new boy I told you about the one that I trained last summer?" I asked, spitting up broken words. It was embarrassing, the whole situation was a slap in the face.

   "I'll take care of him, just tell me what happened." She rubbed my back, trying to soothe me.

   "He threw me under the bus, I was let go." Chewing my bottom lip, I squeezed my eyes tight.  

   "That bastard! I can't believe this, after all the work you did to teach him from the ground up. He doesn't even have a degree." I could hear her heart rate quickening, her holding me to her chest again.

   "While you dropped me off at the office this week, I've been job hunting across town."  pushing away again, I wiped my eyes.

   "I could have helped you looked. The shop's been busy, but I still have time for you." She pushed off the cocoon of a blanket and sat up. "I'm so sorry, why couldn't you tell me sooner? Why have you been so secretive? I've been waiting for you to tell me, but (Y/N), Im worried."

   "Remember when you said that you and I were romantic soulmates in high school? And I denied it because same-sex partners are so rare." I looked at my fingernails, trying to say it the right way.  

   "I remember." She swallowed, scooting back. Pushing aside the blanket, I took both of her hands in mine.

   "Saeko, his name appeared on my wrist", I whispered, paling. "You were right. I'm sorry for wasting so much time. The more I've thought about it, the more I realized…how, much I love you. How you were my romantic partner the entire time." I hung my head low, looking at the floor.

   "I have a confession too." She licked the tip of her thumb, rubbing the spot beside my name on her wrist. Holding her hand in the light, showing me her soul mark, I could see a boy's name.

   "That's the boy who-" My mouth fell open.

   "got you/me expelled in high school." We said together.

   "You've known since then?" I tried to wrap my head around it.

   "I didn't want to force you into picking me. After you brought up the same-sex thing, I was afraid that you were right. But now that you know who yours is, let's do it. We can know for sure.." Saeko tugged me forward, holding out her wrist. "This is also why I waited."

   "I love you so much." I kissed her palm, knowing everything would be okay. We touched our marks together, matching our breaths. I could feel the slight twinge as the symbols shifted around. Feeling brave, I leaned forward and was eagerly met with her lips.

   "I love you more." Saeko pulled our hands apart. "My last name it is." She smirked, seeing that my wrist had changed to her initials and her mine—both of our initials ending with 'T' now.

   "I can get behind being a Tanaka." I nodded, realizing that I had been given the gift of growing up alongside my soulmate. "I'm so lucky."

   "How about you try getting underneath a Tanaka first? I'll show you how lucky you are." She laughed, peppering my neck with kisses.

   "Don't be a perv." I pawed at her arms, the storm long gone from my mind.

   "Okay, okay, but just for tonight. I've been waiting for a million years. And I'd wait for a million more to see you smile like this." She tapped her finger against my nose and turned out the light. "Alright, let's get some rest. Tomorrow we can talk about possibly moving and finding you a job. Once you have steady work, I'll take a day off and make sure your soul enemy is taught a lesson."    

   "Saeko", I warned her, leaning on my elbows before she tugged me down to be the little spoon.

   "Fine, but I want to at least screw with his car when no ones watching." She sulked, rolling my hair around her fingers.

   "That's a decent compromise. Now let's get some sleep." I pushed myself deep into her hold and closed my eyes. The weight of my secret was gone, and now I was able to reap the rewards of my friendship turned into love.

#haikyuu saeko #saeko tanaka #Saeko x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyu #ambershabdeoffical #girl love #reader #thunder #storms #soulmate #soulmate au #enemies to friends to lovers #baby doll #tanka #cuddles #rain #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader

[the-ultimate-penguin]

Katabasis || Chapter 4 || The Return || E

Massive trigger warnings exist for this fic and this chapter specifically, and are discussed under the cut where you can find the chapter content.

From the beginning (Explicit) 

Claude Frollo/Esmeralda

A/N: I don’t like posting fic onto tumblr, but as I have said before, I’m having computer troubles that has prevented me from posting this directly to my Ao3 account. I will hopefully have access to that account soon, but for now, I must work with what I have.

Please note that there are the following TW: non-con, use of the G-slur and racism consistent with canon. 

I hope I haven’t scared you off!

----

Chapter 4

The Return

The first night, she barely slept. Too exhausted to stay awake, but too vigilant to let even the softest rustle not be searched for in the darkness. More than once, jolted awake, Esmeralda had wearily lain, watching as Djali settled yet again for more unburdened rest. “How lucky you are,” she had murmured, before sleep crept upon her. As the new day dawned, Esmeralda had found herself with Djali at her feet, blissfully alone. 

After the second night, her head no longer felt heavy, nor did her bones complain as she paced up and down the gallery. She didn’t find her eyelids drooping as she watched the square below.  

Readying herself after her third unperturbed night, Esmeralda thankfully noted how the bruises on her wrists had begun to fade. Her pain had diminished enough that she had to think about it to notice the subtle twinges and aches. 

Waking from the fourth night’s slumber, Esmeralda had looked around the tiny cell, illuminated by the growing morning rays. The customary basket of food and a jug of fresh water had been placed just on the other side of her threshold. 

Quasimodo had seemed to be taking even greater pains than ever before to avoid her notice. For this, she was glad. To see the twisted form or ugly face of the thing that had put her here, to be reminded of his lies and how he had been willing to let her be attacked by the priest - it was something Esmeralda wasn’t sure she could take. And whether the hunchback intuited how despised his appearance would be now, or whether he was too cowardly to face her, Esmeralda was thankful for his absence along with his continued efforts to ensure that she and Djali were at least fed something. 

As she broke her fast with a few bites from the portion of bread the bellringer had given, Esmeralda smiled. “How is the hay?” she asked Djali. The goat didn’t look up from the fresh pile of hay she had buried her face in. “That good, then.” 

However difficult life in the cathedral was for Esmeralda, she knew that it was even harder for Djali. There was nothing to graze or forage. Hay and scraps of Esmeralda’s meals were barely enough. Whenever she brushed or stroked the goat, Esmeralda could feel the cost of their sanctuary. Djali had grown thin, and her coat was now dull. Esmeralda was glad she couldn’t easily see the toll the weeks of imprisonment and seclusion had taken on herself. Filling Djali’s water bowl, she deliberately avoided glancing at her own reflection. 

Just as she had begun to rise, two arms encircled her. Esmeralda screamed as she was lifted upwards. She didn’t hear the shatter of the earthenware against the stones, but she felt the splash of water over her bare feet. 

A hand covered her mouth, and the grasping arms tightened around her, pressing her back against him. “Please,” whispered the priest. His breath was hot against her neck. 

Esmeralda shook, seeking the slight give that would break the vise. But, the more she struggled in his arms, fighting against his hold, the faster his breathing became. Through her dress, she could feel against the small of her back the heat of his sinister purpose. With every move she made, she felt it growing stronger. He gave out a moan, muting it with her bare shoulder.

Against every instinct, Esmeralda froze. Thrashing about in the priest’s cruel embrace served only him. Her heart pounded, drowning out the increasingly urgent sounds escaping from him. Undaunted by her sudden stillness, he began to grind himself against her. 

She saw no other means of escape. She grasped the flesh of his palm between her teeth and clenched her jaw tightly. She didn’t release his skin until she tasted metal.

He yelped and pulled away. 

Esmeralda spun and spat in the priest’s alarmed face. She could see flecks of blood in the glinting spittle. 

The priest muttered something in a language Esmeralda did not know, glancing from his bloody palm to her. 

She sucked up her remaining saliva, ready to spit again, but furiously the priest covered her mouth with his lips. He wrapped himself around her once more, one hand roving down her chest. 

“Take all you will,” he panted as he broke from the kiss. “My blood, my body.” His hand cupped her breast. “After my soul, what does anything else matter?” He took his hand away, and Esmeralda saw with horror the red smears over her left breast. “I give you everything.”

“Give me peace,” she parried. “Stay away from me.”

“You don’t understand how much these past few days have pained me. Not merely bodily. How hard it was to stay away, but I-”

“Leave me be or I will crack your head again.” She knew exactly where she had left the rock, she knew it would only take a few steps around the priest before she would have it in her grasp. In the daylight, she could see the yellow and green around the crusted wound. She would strike there with all her force. She would hit it again and again until she was sure that he would never touch her again. It was the only way she would ever be free of him again. 

The priest sighed. “Do it, and I promise that you will beg for the quickness of the noose.” 

It wasn’t a threat. Sincerity stared piercingly back at her as she searched his face for a sign of doubt. The fierceness of his certainty sent a shiver down Esmeralda’s spine. The terrifying devices in the prison seemed to pass before her, each more horrible than the next. The damp cold of the underground cell chilled her despite the summer heat. Desperately focusing on the block of sunlight that stretched across the cell, Esmeralda swallowed back the rising sick. 

If she did kill him or wound him fatally, they would know who to blame. Even if she were somehow to muster the strength to throw his body down from the tower, it would only be a matter of time before everyone came for her. Escape would be nearly impossible. Quasimodo certainly couldn’t be counted on to help. He had chosen the priest over her before, and Esmeralda was no longer able to hope that he would protect her ever again. 

“So hit me,” the priest continued. “Spit at me, strike me. Do what you will. I care not. It’s nothing compared to all that I have suffered these long months.” Trembling he kissed her temple, a mirror to the blow she had given him. “And everything pales to what I know awaits me.” He gave a long sigh. “But the cruelty of man is vast, and should they find my body, you will very quickly see the depths of manufactured Hell.” He kissed her once again before pulling away to add, “Have mercy. Let us have a shred of kindness together.” He began to push, steering her towards the bed, his hand wrapped around her wrist.

Even if she couldn’t end him and forever stop his pursuit, Esmeralda was not ready to submit. Even if all that she had cherished and all her dreams had been stolen from her, she would not surrender. She had been raised to be stronger than that. With all the courage left in her body, she said, “Never.” 

A jarring yank sent Esmeralda tumbling to the floor. She reached out a hand to stop her fall and landed hard upon the mattress. The priest was already on his knees above her, pinning her down by the time she found air enough to say, “I hate you.”

Between bruising kisses, the priest managed, “I love you.” Still pelting her face and neck with his lips, he began to draw her skirt up to her waist. 

As his hand wandered down to explore her exposed skin, shame burned red and hot across her face. His fingertips might as well have been claws, ripping her flesh as they ran across her abdomen and over her thighs. His breath now heaved his chest, and his eyes flickered up and down, as if trying to consume every part of her he had stripped bare. 

Clumsily, Esmeralda reached down to try to cover herself, but he batted her hands away. “Please don’t,” she whispered. Despite his weight on her legs, she tried to buck and kick. Her fists struck his chest and face as he leaned over to kiss her once more. She could feel his shuddering moan in her mouth. She screwed her eyes shut, her last defense. 

She nearly jumped as the fabric of his cassock was lifted away, brought up to his hips. His naked thighs parted her legs, and he let the skirt drape back down to cover them together. 

He was prodding her. An awkward jab at the top of her inner leg. A misaimed thrust that landed him against her belly. It was hot and swollen. He seared as he rammed inside her, and her breath escaped in agonized cry. Like the cleaving thwack of an axe against wood, his splitting suddenness roughly cut into her.

Despite the pain, Esmeralda tried not to let her breathing quicken in panic, least he think that the hitch in her breath and frantic gasps were caused by his next thrust forward. He was going too deep. She was sure he would rip out on the other side, still plunging on into stone, oblivious as he quivered on top of her. 

As he slid out, Esmeralda heard him moan deeply. Her body was screaming. Perhaps she was as well. His next attack robbed her of any sense but pain. He was shaking against her, groaning and muttering. Only one word she was able to discern - 

“Esmeralda.”

He seemed to twitch and jerk as he pulled back before jaggedly returning, uttering a raw cry. His muscles tensed as he held himself fast against her. Finally, his breath slowed, and his body relaxed. She could feel the sweat on his face as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, collapsing on top of her.

“Are you going to cry this time?” she snapped, pushing him off. 

“What?” It stung as the priest slipped out, trailing a sticky wetness in its wake. Slowly, he rolled onto his side and began to dab at the milky drops with the hem of her skirt.

Esmeralda’s nose wrinkled in disgust, and she tugged her dress out of his languid grasp. “Are you,” she said, punctuating every word, “going to cry?” She sat upright and smoothed her clothing out. 

Sleepily the priest blinked. “That was a one time thing.” He took the blanket in hand and started to dry himself. 

Esmeralda could only stare. After everything he had inflicted on her and how he had deprived her of her modesty, she felt no inclination to afford him any privacy. Soft and much reduced, it was hard to accept that it was the same instrument that had provided so much torture. But, she knew little of such matters. Compelled to know what Phoebus had under his hose, she had spied one or twice on her husband during their weeks together. Other than Pierre, she had seen no other man’s nakedness before. This, however, wasn’t entirely trivial, but it was still an ugly worm. 

More interesting to her, however, were the dark curls nestled there. No shock of white or trace of grey - so unlike what remained on his head. An old man, she had thought, would be just as grey on bottom as he was on top, just as it was for the aging women she had seen bathing. He couldn’t be, she realized, nearly as old as a quick glance suggested. 

It was then that she realized with alarm that the worm had grown. Not quite a serpent, but enough to menace. She swallowed and glanced over to the priest’s face, meeting his gaze. He had been watching her as she stared at him. “You’re despicable,” she muttered, averting her eyes. “Deplorable.” She got to her feet and scanned the cell. Djali was nowhere to be seen. Wherever the goat had wandered off to, Esmeralda was sure it was safer than here. 

Still smirking, Claude leaned against the wall. She had found him fascinating. How else could such intense regard be explained? His eyes followed her as she crossed the cell. As she bent down before the shattered jug, he sucked in his breath, already imagining taking her once more.

One by one, she picked up the pieces of clay, only a sliver of her profile visible to him. A broken jug. “How could I forget!” he exclaimed as the specifics of Pierre’s marriage in the Court of Miracles returned to him. The poet had been married to Esmeralda through means of a broken crock. His face flushed as the significance seized him.

Startled, the girl turned to gape at him. 

“How many pieces?” Claude asked breathlessly. She had dropped the jug when he had embraced her, and then he had had her. Hardly sanctified, it wasn’t proper, but if canon law could accept a clandestine marriage as valid, then - Claude could feel the weight of at least one sin leave. However many other sins this gypsy marriage created to join his innumerable crimes, for the first time that he had taken the key to the red door, Claude felt his conscience was clear. 

“What?”

Exasperatedly, “How many pieces?” Claude repeated. “The jug.” He gestured to the floor. “How many?”

Bemused, the girl shook her head, but still she cast a glance around, mouth wordlessly moving as she counted. “At least twenty,” she said flatly and returned to gathering the remains. 

“We’ll be married at least twenty years then,” concluded Claude. 

“That’s-” stammered the girl. “How?” 

Unperturbed by the feigned confusion, Claude waved his hand dismissively. He could understand why she would take every advantage she could, counting on his ignorance of the customs of her people. “No need to lie,” he said. “I know that’s how you Gypsies get married. A broken jug that states how long you will be married. We have broken a jug, so we are husband and wife for at least twenty years.” 

A strange expression crossed her scowling face before she let out a laugh. Bright. Pure. She was laughing at him! Indignant, Claude began to rise. 

Finally, she managed, “You’re mistaken, Father.” She shook her head, the smile fading from her as she turned to him. 

“And why is that?” he snarled, her momentary mirth still ringing in his ears.

“To be married requires agreement - between families, between husband and wife. Without it there is nothing.” Fire flashed behind her dark eyes. “I am not your wife. I will never be yours.”

“Then why the jug!” spluttered Claude. 

Esmeralda shrugged. “There are many people who come to the Court of Miracles. More than just mine. I don’t know why a marriage is announced with breaking something here, but it’s nothing more than a…” 

“Symbol,” Claude provided with a sigh. He should have known that his former student couldn’t be trusted to accurately recount or explain all that he had seen. Ever since he had met the aspiring poet, Pierre had been more partial to invention than recitation. Claude pressed his fingers between his brows. 

It had been pointless to hope for something that could ameliorate his perdition. As long as he was still a priest, it was a violation of all that he had vowed. Moreover, she was a heathen. Their union could never be holy. 

Drained of the frenzied relief, Claude sighed. 

There was no redemption for this transgression. And now he was even more damned than he had been before. He had stained his soul once again with such vile licentiousness, and despite the punishment he would suffer, he still had every intention of repeating his sin. Contrition was impossible while she still lived. Perhaps even now that he had experienced the exquisiteness of carnal knowledge, his whole existence was doomed to be consumed by this need. What had driven him to mastery of so many passions, Claude could now see, was what Fate had designed to condemn him. 

Clattering clay pieces dropped upon his lap, pulling him out of his reverie. He looked up at her scornful expression. 

“Count them if you wish, Father,” Esmeralda said. 

The title following such sacrilegious thoughts brought clenching unease to the priest. “Claude.” He took her hands in his, holding fast even though she made no attempt to slip away. How foolish he felt realizing that never once in any of their prior encounters had he offered his name. There had always been so many other matters to attend to that it had simply been determined unnecessary, unimportant. “My name is Dom Claude Frollo.”  

Dark eyes bore into his. 

“Claude,” he repeated, wishing to hear her finally add words to her siren’s call. A thrill passed through him as he imagined just how sweet it would sound to have her cry out his name as he was inside her.

He would do it. He would make her say it. His body begged to have her again. It would not wait. 

It took very little effort to bring her to her knees, on the bed once more. Claude brushed away the fragments of the jug. Though already aching with desire, he gave himself a long stroke. Unlike the paltry pulls he had resorted to during the past few days while his head pounded and stomach spun after slight exertion, there was the promise of wrapping himself around Esmeralda and entering her warmth.

As he kissed her, he felt words spoken against his lips. “What?” he gasped.

“What does it mean?” Her tone cut with annoyance. 

Claude gulped for air, wishing she would just make sense for once.

“Your name.” 

He squinted at her. “Of all the things… what…” Claudius cum claudio. He could feel his face flush as he imagined actually saying the word ‘lame’ to the girl.  “Never you mind.” She no doubt had a devious purpose. Hadn’t the goat learned to spell that captain’s name?

“I will only ever love the man who is named for-”

“Will you never cease this madness!” Claude let go of her. “Why do you torture us with talk of that captain?” 

“He is-”

“A drunk who seduces and whores and has no doubt already found someone else to ruin,” Claude interjected. “He will never be worth your devotion, and the more you insist on saying his name, the more you debase yourself.” He got to his feet. “You do not see him for what he is. You see only fancy trappings-” as he spoke, he began to pace, “- a shiny sword you would kiss, someone who thinks he’s Adonis. And he doesn’t even see you unless you’re willing to offer him what I have fought so hard for.” 

Though he wanted to stop and hold her so she would no longer wince and flinch from his words, he couldn’t contain himself. He could think of no other way to make her understand than to scold and lecture. 

“If he feels anything for you,” Claude continued, “it’s hate and fear. You tried to kill him, and it drove him away-”

“You tried to kill him!” snapped Esmeralda.

“He doesn’t know that! He thinks you stabbed him, and what has he done? He’s stayed away, far away. He didn’t go to your trial. He was ready to watch as you died accused of killing him. He’s a coward, and he does not want you. But me,” he put his hands over his heart, feeling it thunder underneath his ribs, “I have come back. You tried to kill me, and still would, yet here I am!”

“I would,” she hissed, “but we’ve established why I can’t.”

“Surely you can see that I love you. I love you in a way he never could, and I would-”

“If you love me so much, prove it by throwing yourself off the tower.”

Wraith boiling over, Claude scrambled to find a proper response, but before he could fashion one together, he felt something ramming into his side. Though it did not bring him to his knees, the blunt force left him gasping. “What the-” he muttered as he looked down to see the furious goat, head lowered, poised to strike again. “Devilish beast!” He took a step forward, but already the girl was wrapping her arms around the goat, murmuring praise and kissing her. 

Esmeralda held the goat to her chest, a demonic shield with yellow eyes that seemed to gnash its teeth, daring Claude to approach once more. Did he see Hellfire flickering there? There was undoubtedly something infernal that had summoned the creature to the cell and prompted it to attack. 

Shuddering, he backed away until he was at the door. “Perhaps I’ll throw that thing from the tower instead.” Claude could feel the scorching hate follow him all the way down to the cloister. 

He slammed his chamber door and hurried to the window, already trying to soothe the dissatisfied agony between his legs. Supporting himself with his forearm against the wall, Claude frantically moved his fist, cursing that he had to fall back to this. Pathetic. Lame. His arm was tiring from pumping and still she hid out of sight, as if she knew how much suffering she was inflicting still.

Biting his arm, he silenced his moans as the hot flood of relief spilled over his hand. He rested his head against the stone wall. “Esmeralda,” he whispered. He let his cassock fall back over his legs and sought his washcloth. He had only managed to wipe the remnants of his seed off of his hand when a knock intruded on his silence.

“Monsieur Archdeacon?” It was the nervous voice of the beadle.

If he stayed silent, perhaps he would be left alone again. 

“You should know, but… word reached the Bishop that you are well again-”

Claude clenched his teeth. 

“- and he’s on his way here.”

Resisting the urge to shout about damning the Bishop, Claude opened the door. “Thank you for the notice, Charles,” he said, his face a mask of placid duty. “I will be sure to greet him when he arrives.” Not waiting for the beadle to respond, Claude brushed past him, already weary with the day.

~~~

A/N: Wow! Congrats on getting to the end of this beast of a chapter. 

I’ve interpreted the jug breaking in the book as being something that’s a result of so many cultures being in the Court of Miracles that the Jewish tradition of breaking a glass to celebrate a marriage wound up as just a part of how things are done in the Court of Miracles. Since actual Romani marriages are pretty diverse in tradition, I can’t say for sure that no jugs were ever broken, but to my knowledge, it’s not done. Of the Romani marriage traditions I know - from jumping over a broom, to the bride changing dresses as she’s accepted into the groom’s family, to giving jewelry, or just plain old having a regular Church service - I have heard nothing that resembles what Hugo wrote. 

I apologize if there are any formatting errors or other issues. (Let me know!)

Please let me know if you liked this chapter with ‘likes’ and reblogs. I always love hearing what people think, and it really makes my day!

Thank you! And Happy Halloween!!!!

#claude frollo #esmeralda #hond #fresme #nddp fanfic #non con trigger warning #racism trigger warning #trigger warnings in general

[carryonmywaywardwriters]

One Day At A Time - Jensen x Reader

A/N: It’s been a while. My days off were spent with writing rather than posting. Now? It’s time to catch up a bit. Have an edited version of a story I’d only just begun getting into before I’d left Tumblr at the beginning of the year. As always, feedback is incredible. And, I hope you all enjoy <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block. 

Also, this is NOT hate against Danneel. It’s a piece of fiction using real humans as the base. There will be NO negativity against her, the Ackles family, or anything tolerated here.

Upcoming Warnings: Widower!Jensen. Angst. Death. Grieving process. Upcoming smut. Age Gap. And more. Each chapter will be labeled accordingly.

Word Count: Roughly 3,700

“How's he holding up?” Genevieve Padalecki was an actual goddess as she sat across from you in the sunken living room. A loose, white tee paired with ripped jeans while resting on the navy blue couch. Even as drawn and tired as she appeared in that moment, beneath the LeMay hummingbird art, she was incredible. Somehow held mostly together even with the circumstances in front of her. You yearned for that kinda strength.

“He's been trying to smile... Laugh for the kids.” You answered quietly, not wanting to wake the napping children. Or, the resting widower.  As if your voice could carry that far in the massive home. But, it was the first bit of real sleep any of them had gotten since the nightmare had begun. You wouldn't chance it. They needed all the rest that they could muster. “It's falling short...but he's trying.” Your own tired eyes met the red rimmed dark orbs in front of you. “How about you and Jared?” She shook her head, slowly. Her actress's facade crumbling all at once.

“God, I miss her.” The once smooth voice cracked as she fought back the tears. Finally giving into the grief a little. “So...so much...It hasn't even been two weeks, yet, Y/N.” She looked so broken. So defeated. “How am I supposed to survive the rest of my life without my best friend?”

You wanted to give an answer. Wanted to be able to tell her it got better. But, you couldn't. It'd be a lie. Nothing was better in a world without the sunny smile the Mrs. Ackles had bestowed, undoubtedly, every time you turned around.

“I ask myself that question almost every second of everyday.” Jensen's deep voice was ragged as he stood in the hallway. His hair was spiked from the tossing and turning he'd done while he'd tried to escape the reality of his new life. Your heart shattered again at the sight.

“Jens-”

“It's okay,” He was gruff, but not harsh as he cut Genevieve off. Too worn to even begin to try to be angry. His jeans and shirt were wrinkled. Beard untrimmed. Eyes red and glazed with grief. “We're going to be okay. Danneel...she'd want that.” If he said it enough, he might just believe it. “Kids still out?” You could only nod. A lump too large for words to pass rested in your throat.“Good.” His head bobbed with that. As if in a trance. “I'm gonna take a walk...head down to the lake.”

He didn't ask if anyone would watch them. That's what you were there for. His pockets were filled with his beefy hands, and then he was gone as quickly as he'd come.

“I don't know if I can stay here.” You uttered when he was out of hearing range; tossing your hand through your tangled hair. Somehow even more ragged from the brief interaction.

It was all too much. He needed assistance with the twins and J.J. You knew that. But, it was terrifying having to face the grieving process head on. To feel the weight of a love lost residing in the air. Having to stand up to it all while losing your friend in the process. Needing to try and fill the void that was left behind after the accident while holding an entire family together. Anyone would strain under that level of responsibility.

Running would be easier. That was a fact you couldn't seem to escape. It always had been. God knows you'd done it enough in your life. Everything inside of you begged you to take the chance. Flee. And yet...you hadn't quite gathered enough courage to actually try it. Leaving yourself in an odd sort of purgatory.

“He'll understand.” Gen didn't even bother to look back at you. Having latched onto an image of the deceased in the corner. A happy little number showing her and her children.

“Will he?” You didn't believe it. Not even a little. She wasn't there to see the worst of his grief. How alone he was. Your fingers ripped at a hangnail as you pondered over it all.

Jensen had lost his entire future. And with that? He'd lost his focus. The undying optimism he'd once held. His charming dash of humor. Maybe once, he'd have forgiven you walking away. But, not anymore. The kids, his job, and the brewery were overwhelming at the best of times. It was unmanageable even with the help, then. He needed you more than ever.

That's why you'd been hired, initially. To break up the load. Or, so Danneel had claimed. In reality? She'd held everything down just fine with a babysitter on the side. She'd just used it as an excuse to draw you in. Now? It was time to live up to the promise.

You were pulled out of your thoughts with a small sigh, “Even if he doesn't?” Your heart ached at the thought. “You have your own life, Y/N...it's your choice.” Her final words went straight to the point. Injuring you with the bluntness of it. “And if there's anything we learned from all this? Life is too short to fuck around with.”

With that, she took her leave. Needing to find some air. Get back into a head space to handle the other half of the grieving family she was returning to.

You craved the same escape. Instead, the twins appeared. Miniatures of their parents clad in Paw Patrol footie pajamas. Hair mused as they crawled into the comfort you could offer. Solemn, as if their young minds could fully grasp the idea of death. Hours later, JJ walked in the large wooden door. A deep frown etched onto the smooth lines of her face. Her bag dragging the ground as she and Jensen joined. The false cheer emitting from the booming voice only made the tension in the air increase. It was cloaking.

As the night went on, things grew worse. A tight hold on the back of your neck crept forward until your entire skull felt as if it was being crushed. Far from the first time. Zep didn't want the lasagna you'd made. His once ravenous appetite long gone. Justice Jay was trying to step up; telling him how he needed to eat. How her mom would have got him to, and that anyone who couldn't get the boy to wasn't trying hard enough. Arrow sat crying, too distraught to take even a  bite.

Jensen had looked so damn lost while sitting in the tan backed kitchen bar-stool that you'd had no choice but to pull out a whistle. Danneel had used it during a girl scouts meeting months before. And then had brought it back around any time the family got to be too chaotic. Another brilliant idea from the lost soul.

Zep settled for a small, microwavable macaroni and cheese that had been reserved for emergencies. J.J was talked down, gently. Not taking away from her grief; simply bringing her back to a softer place. Arrow was able to eat on your lap; settling into the comfort of a woman's touch gladly. The widower watched in a daze. Being the only one in the room you hadn't needed to fix. Until you noticed that he wasn't eating. Leaving you to discard your plate even longer while you coaxed him into following his kids' lead.

Bed time didn't come nearly fast enough. Dishes with two toddlers flinging soapy water across the designer kitchen. Another night of fighting over homework with Justice. All you wanted to do was crawl into bed and never leave.

With a weary sigh, you left the room Arrow occupied to herself. Moving down the stairs as fast as you could to give yourself some distance. Slamming your hand through your hair all the while. Not sure how much longer you could go on, taking care of everyone. You never had time to process. To breathe. God, how you wanted to breathe again.

Your back pressed against the wall after you hit the main floor. Utter relief filling your veins at the lack of noise. Slouching, you turned to look out at the darkened lake. Hoping the peace of it would trail to you. Only to shoot straight up seconds later as footsteps lumbered down the stairs.

“Thanks,” Jensen appeared, looking worse for the wear. Before you could even think to start, he continued, “Seriously, thanks. I don't...I don't know what I'd do...” His throat worked as emotion threatened to spill over. “I know we're a lot.” That was the understatement of the century.

“Jensen-”

“Don't try n' down play it, Y/N.” He kept going. As if he had no choice. Almost as if he could feel your desperation to run, and was trying to stop it. “We're a wreck, right now. But, you? You make...make it a little less chaotic.” His eyes were watery as he talked. The dam threatening to spill over. Guilt snaked through you at the words. And then he pulled out the last batch of words you wanted to hear. “You're a lot like her. You know that?”

“I don't want to...to take her place,” Your words were garbled as you swallowed the emotion. Terrified that you'd be trapped into the empty space she left behind. Breaking all the while. “I don't...I don't want to just step into the role.” Your own eyes watered as you aired your fears. Gasping for some kind of air. “I don't know how...how to play mom full time. Or step in as the pretend wife of a TV star. I can't even take care of myself. That's why she brought me here.” The emotional fall had been doomed to show up, eventually. You simply hadn't expected it to be so soon. Or so in his face. But, that didn't stop the tirade of emotion leaving your lips. “I want her back, too. I want her to walk...walk back through the door, like every time she's left. To thank me for looking out for you guys... T..tell me how strong I was for holding down the fort... until she got back.”

Because that's the kind of woman she was. She'd loved her family. Her friends. Her careers. And most of all, life. She'd built everyone up. Having her gone had tore them all down.

A tear trailed down your face as you realized Jensen was openly crying. Silent as the water ran down both cheeks. Drop after drop as he fought back a sob. You comprehended then, the enormity of what you'd done.

“Y/N-”

“I'm sorry!” Cutting him off, you tried to find something to say. Anything else. But, words escaped you again. A gasp left your lips when he brought his hands up to your arms, but you didn't have a chance to pull away. He tugged you close. Breaking you further. His arms encompassed you as you both cried deeply. Letting out everything you'd held back since you'd gotten the call about the accident. “I'm...I'm s...so...s...sorry.” You hiccuped into his chest. No longer feeling the need to be strong. His own body shook as he tried to settle back down. “I'm...I'm such a...such a bitch.”

“You're a good friend.” He breathed out in a broken sigh when he could finally gain enough composure to take a step back. But, he didn't break the contact. Needing the sense of closeness as his world spun. “She would have been...she would have proud of you, you know.” You lost it again at that one. Thinking back to the day that had wrecked all of your lives.

Danneel had been going to the brewery. Just as she had everyday. She should have come back. She should have never have been found on the side of the road. A hit and run. The bastard who was guilty had yet to be found.

“I'm sorry,” You pulled away from his grasp completely that time. Wiping at your face clumsily.  Snot plugged up your nose. Your cheeks were stained from the tears. “What I said...I didn't mean it.”

“You did.” Jensen stated easily, falling back onto the closest couch. His head resting in his hands. “That's okay, though.”

“It's not.” Your eyes landed on the image from the wedding that rested on the coffee table as you dropped beside him. It was the closest you two had been in the entire time you'd known each other. Picking it up, you looked closer. Basking in the bit of joy that still resided inside the walls of the home. “She was beautiful.” Your thumb stroked over the image. “And, funny. Smart as a whip.” You'd thought you were all dried out, but another piece of water made its way down your face. “It was hard to not fall in love with the energy she put out there.” Gen had said Danneel had been her best friend. She'd been yours, too. Even though you'd only held her in your life a short time. “She saved me from myself...did you know that?”

“Kinda,” He answered carefully. His own eyes drawn to the ten year old image. “She never gave me the full details.” He leaned in closer, the pad of his finger brushing away the small piece of dust that gathered in the corner. “She just told me that you needed help...and to pretend that she did.”

“That sounds like her,” You whispered, your lips tugging up in a lopsided smile. Thankful to the ghost in the room. “I'd been kicked out of my boyfriend's place. He got bored, or something. I really haven't figured out the 'why' if I'm being honest with myself. Can't even remember why I was with him.” Your hand came back up to wipe against your face as your mind trailed back. You'd lived down the road. Only for a week or two. A perfect stranger. Your bag had hit the grass as she walked by with the twins. A daily stroll turned into more. She'd watched as you stared at the door in disbelief after it slammed shut. “She asked me if I was okay. I lied and said I was...she didn't believe me.”

“She's...She was good at that.” He caught himself trying to keep her in the present. You didn't bring attention to it. Didn't want to hurt him anymore than you already had.

“Dee didn't think twice. Packed me up and took me to a motel. Took my phone number to check in...” If you tried hard enough, you could still remember her holding out her phone. A simple smile on her face as she waited for you to do as told. Knowing you'd cave. You hadn't expected her to really call. Had been oddly relieved when she had. “I had trouble finding work, so she offered a place at the brewery. I didn't know how to take that kind of an offer.”

“Now that you mention it...” His head dropped to the back of the couch as he got more comfortable. Eyes closed as he traveled back in time mentally. “I remember that,” He looked a little lighter as he thought back to his wife. The frustrated call he'd received while on set about the woman who 'needed to come to terms' with Danneel's assistance. “The more you resisted, the more sure she was that she was going to help you out.”

“She used the twins.” Not that you'd complained. They were great. You'd spent hours making faces, drawing pictures, and the works with two of the sweetest children you'd ever met. “She was working on handling the paperwork, and asked me to play with them for a bit. Reeled me in like a fish.”

It had started with one day, with food as your payment. Then, it was for a few hours daily for food and some cash. Next thing you knew, you were in a small guesthouse they'd added to property. It had been the beginning of the best six months of your life. Helping with the kids, the brewery, and animals. You'd gotten a side job, but your notice had gone in as soon as you'd been able to. Jensen had needed all the help he could get with Danneel gone.

“Do you regret it?”

“She gave me a whole new life,” You sighed out, not quite answering the question. Looking at the animated face that rested in the frame. “And instead of being able to hold up? I break in half of a month...” Shame coursed through you.

“To be fair,” His voice was scratchy, “we're all a bit broken right now, Y/N...” No truer words had been spoken.

“What do we do, Jensen?” Your head rested against the back of the couch as he took the frame. Wishing like hell he could travel back to the day encased in ink, you were sure.

“We take it one day at a time,” It's all he knew how to do. Nothing else made sense. It was all too unpredictable. “It's hiatus...We don't have to worry about the show, for a few months. For now?” He tapped the glass, “For now, I'm going to take care of her babies.” The determined, pained note in his voice made your chest ache. “I know that I haven't been helping much-”

“Don't...” Letting him tear himself down wasn't something you could stand. “You're doing better than anyone would dream.” Your hand reached over and squeezed his. Offering a bit of comfort. Not knowing how else to handle it all. “Take care of yourself, too...Eat. Try to sleep. Take your time to clear your head.”

“You could stand to do that, yourself, Y/N...” He swallowed tightly. His own guilt raising its head. He'd been so stuck inside his own mind that he'd missed all the warning signs. How slow you moved. Raw pain lining your features. All of it amplified by how long it had been ignored. “Go... get some sleep. We can start looking for someone else to take over, tomorrow...if that's what you really want.”

With that, he led himself to his room. Leaving you to rest on the couch. Trying to decide if that's what you really needed.

–

“Morning, sleepy,” You whisked the batter. Working to get it as smooth as you could. Zeppelin rubbed his eyes deeply. The green dinosaur pajamas seemed shorter than they'd been the night before. He was growing fast. He'd need more soon. “Blueberries in your pancakes?” A tired nod was your answer as Arrow trailed behind in her favorite Elsa covered nightgown. “Chocolate chips?” Another sleepy, head bob followed. Justice Jay wasn't quite as easy. She was filled with seven year old independence. Ignoring the clothes you'd set out the night before in a way that only a strong headed child could. Instead, donning herself in a purple top with yellow leggings. Her hair, all but the back, brushed neatly. “Strawberries?”

“I can do it,” Her eyes turned up to look into yours. Demanding independence. After all, she was woman of the house, now.

You simply nodded, handing over a bowl of batter and the strawberries she wanted. They were pre-cut. All she had to do is mix the two together. You even let her flip them; feeling more than generous. It was the weekend, after all. And she needed to feel in control of something. Her mood increased slowly, but surely. Maybe I'm onto something...

“Smells good,” Jensen's lips smacked as he walked into the room, as you served up the first round of food.

His casual clothes were less wrinkled than the day before. He seemed more alert. Less like a bottle waiting to explode. The crying, despite how much everyone hated it, was good at clearing some of the pain. At least, enough to make everyone semi-functional.

“Good,” You gestured as you poured a bit of batter from each bowl onto the griddle. “Eat.”

“What about you?” His brows snapped together.

Gone was the mess he'd witnessed the night before. Mostly. The bags still rested beneath your eyes- something he hadn't noticed until tears had caught on them. However, he couldn't help but to zero in on every detail.

“I'll eat in a minute. I'm almost done.” The spatula waved his way. Killing any hope of him taking over. “Now, you eat.”

“Yes, ma'am,” He grumbled, sitting down with his children. Muttering about you being a bully to earn little giggles.

Slowly their personalities began emerging for what felt like the first time in forever. Zep was making zooming noises as he splashed his plane shaped- or as close to it as you could replicate- pancake into his syrup. Arrow was humming to herself, kicking her feet. Spreading more than enough butter across her crown shaped breaded breakfast- princesses were her current favorite thing. Dark hair bouncing on her head as she moved. Little J. Bird was telling her daddy about the animals they'd seen on their school outing the day before. And Jensen? He was enthralled. Giving her every bit of the attention she needed.

Your lips tugged up as you pictured Danneel watching over her family in the back. Her little content smile resting on her face as she looked at all of those she loved. She'd be leaning against the counter, ankles crossed with a headband holding back the hair that escaped her bun. Happy as a lark.

With a deep breath, you walked over to the table with the second plate to ensure that everyone got their helpings. When Jensen's eyes met yours again, he mouthed 'thank you'. You sent back a 'you're welcome' quietly before turning back to Zeppelin as he let out a mini roar, seeking the attention on him. In that moment, you understood. You weren't going anywhere...

Part Two

@winchester-ofthe-lord​

Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278​

Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon​​ @supernaturalginger​​ @lilulo-12​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​

#supernatural #SPN #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #Supernatural angst #spn angst #jensen #jensen ackles #jensen fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles x you #jensen x y/n #jensen x you

[beca-mitchell]

i took your matches before fire could catch me (1/1)

Summary: Beca and Chloe will always cross paths—the first year after the USO tour. Beca-centric. Rated M for like...one huge smut scene in the second half.

Word count: 8325

A/N: Title from Taylor Swift’s “Dear John”. This was a very different story when I first started working on it at the beginning of this year. I'm not sure I like where it ended up going, but I wanted to share it anyway. 

All mistakes are mine.

Happy NYE!

Read below or on AO3.

January

The first time they see each other again, Chloe is in Los Angeles for a weekend and Beca had agreed to meet for coffee.

The first few months after the USO tour, they had been busy with moving, with starting school, with starting a new album, so it had been easier to avoid each other.

But Beca misses Chloe and she knows Chloe feels some of the same emptiness or she wouldn’t have agreed to meet Beca for coffee. Or so Beca tells herself.

It had been awkward at the beginning, but Beca found herself becoming more comfortable as the hours passed and before she knew it, she was standing quickly as Chloe gathered her bag and phone, looking ready to leave.

Chloe smiles at Beca then. It is not quite forced, but Beca sees some strain in it—some desperation. “I hope we stay friends,” she says softly. Beca feels sick and her throat tightens around the emotions that well up inside her. And to make it worse, Chloe continues: “I care about you.”

Heat and moisture spike alarmingly quick beneath Beca’s eyelids. “Friends,” she repeats, tasting the word on her tongue.

(Friends, like how she and Chloe had started; friends, like how they had been just before the depth of their feelings for each other slipped into something more; friends, like they had been when Beca had grabbed Chloe’s jacket and kissed her with everything she had.)

“Yeah, obviously,” Beca says quickly when she realizes Chloe is still staring at her. “Of course. Why couldn’t we be? Friends, I mean. We were before. We still are.”

It is uncommonly cool in Los Angeles, even for January standards, so Beca attributes the shiver that rushes through her body when Chloe’s hand brushes her own to the weather and nothing more.

 — — — — — — — — — — 

(So they should probably talk about that kiss. The kiss that shouldn’t have happened, but Beca, in a fit of possession and jealousy upon seeing Chicago smiling at Chloe, had grabbed Chloe’s jacket and pulled her in for a kiss.

The shock in Chloe’s eyes had been reflected in Beca’s, but neither of them knew what else to do or say.

Not many more words were exchanged, even when Beca had led Chloe back up to her hotel room and the door had clicked shut behind them.)

 — — — — — — — — — —

February

Beca isn't a jealous person. Not at all. Not one bit.

Besides, she really shouldn't be, she tells herself derisively. They were never really friends, even when they technically were. Even when they were co-captains. Even when they shared a house for three years. There was always some complicated underlying attraction to each other and the pressure to perform and put on a show—both in their personal lives and on stage—which translated into a consistently-strained relationship. 

And God, it’s Valentine’s Day for fuck’s sake. Beca hadn’t been expecting to see Chloe in Los Angeles of all places, considering how hard it seemed for Chloe to have made the trip in the past few weeks whenever Beca had suggested a visit.

Beca attempts to let some bitterness seep out of her.

Chloe looks...beautiful. Stunning. Radiant. All the things Beca loves about Chloe shine through tonight. Beca spots her nearly immediately when she walks in and tunes out of the company she held within her perch in the VIP booth. Chloe is wearing her favourite ripped jeans and a pretty white top that just screams for something to be spilt on it. And yet, she dances without a care in the world. Her right palm is open, dying to be held. Her left hand clutches a wine glass, liquid precariously licking up the edges. Wine, of all things, in an upscale club in downtown Los Angeles.

Chloe spots her fairly quickly. The surprise in her eyes must be reflected in Beca’s own, but Beca makes no move to get out of her booth for the time being. It’s then that she notices Chloe can’t stop staring at her. It is only a product of the way Beca can’t keep her eyes off Chloe, but the way Chloe’s piercing blue gaze always seems to meet her gaze in return indicates that it’s a mutual sensation.

Finally, it is Chloe who musters up the courage to say hello first. Soft and quiet, unexpectedly appearing by Beca’s shoulder as she stands by the bar, finally escaping the sanctuary of her cordoned-off area.

“Hey,” Chloe’s voice sounds excitedly near her ear. "Beca, hi!"

Beca startles, nearly dropping her drink. “Chloe. Hey.”

“Letting loose tonight?”

Beca laughs, short and mildly acerbic. It is both comforting and unsettling how easy it is to fall into old habits with Chloe—how easy it is to want to open up to Chloe and trust her and love her all at once. “No,” she responds. “Just kind of scoping out the venue.” She takes a quick gulp of her drink for courage. “Are you here alone? Why are you here?”

“There was a conference in town,” Chloe explains, quicker than Beca expects. “A bunch of us took the night off.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Beca says. Or at least, she tries to say because she is cut off by an excited voice calling Chloe’s name and a large, male body appearing by her side. Beca swallows and tries to look anywhere else but the way his hand curls around Chloe’s hip with familiarity.

“Beca,” Chloe says questioningly when she notices that Beca is trying to inch away.

“It was nice to see you, Chloe.” I’m so glad we’re friends , Beca adds as an afterthought in her mind. She swallows back the sharp taste of her drink and looks instead for the closest pair of interested eyes.

“Hey, wait a second,” Chloe calls and before Beca realizes what is happening and before she can really dwell on anybody, Chloe’s hand is wrapping gently around her wrist. “Can we talk?”

“We’re talking now.”

Chloe scowls and shoots a glance over her shoulder at Nondescript Jock #5 before she is pushing Beca towards the women’s bathroom. 

“What are you doing?” Beca demands.

“Why are you being like this?”

“Like what?”

Chloe frowns. “Extra Beca-like.”

“I don’t know what that means.” 

“Of course you don’t—you never do, do you?”

“I really don’t know what that means.”

They’re breathing heavily, both of them standing toe to toe. Around them, the bass pounds and the percussion line is strong, but Beca only feels the pounding of her own heart. This feels too raw—too much like how they had separated after Europe, only this is just a continuation of that ugliness.

(“So you’re just walking away. Again.”

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be, Chloe.”

“I’m not the one being difficult. You’re the one who’s afraid.” )

She hates how much she wants to kiss Chloe.

Beca sighs, some of the fight leaving her. “I just wasn’t expecting to see you. Here. When you’re supposed to be in Philadelphia.” 

“I honestly wasn’t expecting to see you here either. I'm not trying to...” Chloe's mouth twists unhappily. "Not trying to stalk you or anything. I'm just happy we ran into each other because we need to—"

“—maybe we should just pretend we never saw each other.”

Hurt flashes across Chloe’s eyes.

“Beca, wait—”

 — — — — — — — — — —

March

i didn't mean it, i'm sorry, Beca writes and rewrites in her phone. Over and over. It's like a ritual.

Nothing really works anymore.

When Beca falls asleep, it’s the same dream, the one she had almost every night for months after she moved to L.A.. Chloe is waiting for her when she gets in the door.

She smiles.

She kisses Beca.

She says, “Welcome home.”

Beca shakes off the fantasy, anger and hurt coursing through her. Screw you, Mitchell.

They haven’t really spoken for weeks. Beca is more comfortable at this distance, content on muting Chloe’s social media profiles and pretending like Chloe isn’t totally seeing that guy that she claims to not be seeing.

And the thing is, there isn't really a reason for Chloe to lie to her (even if Beca hasn't really given any concrete reason for Chloe to stay), but the sting of seeing Chloe flirt with Chicago incessantly is still sharp in Beca's memory, so she does the completely grown-up thing and rage-likes a bunch of Chloe’s Instagram and Facebook posts and sends petty emoji-reactions to some of Chloe’s Instagram stories. She hates the flash of vindication that rushes through her when Chloe texts her not too long after.

Hey, how are you?

It’s what she wanted, but she feels gross and petty and not at all like the adult her legal documents claim she is. Beca groans at the still unanswered text message. It’s dumb how jealous she is—how upset she is over something that might or might not be true. She’s trying her best to move on and to stay friends with Chloe because it’s what Chloe wanted .

It’s what they both wanted.

Before Beca has a chance to say anything, bubbles appear again, indicating that Chloe is typing.

i’m sorry if things are weird, the text reads. is everything okay with us?

Then, beca, please

Beca slowly blinks at the series of words. She feels nothing but tiredness within her. Her eyes are dry. 

She falls asleep with her phone in her hand.

— — — — — — — — — —

Aubrey is an unexpected confidante. It does feel a little self-sabotaging considering Aubrey’s relationship with Chloe.

“For what it’s worth, Chloe has told me some things,” Aubrey says carefully. “So I’m not completely in the dark, even if it surprises me that you’re calling me at all.”

“I think that we can be friends,” Beca replies. “We just need some time. Everything is too raw right now.”

Aubrey sighs. “You’re both fools.”

“It’s just...hard to get over her,” Beca admits.

“Why do you have to do that at all?”

The truth is, she doesn't. She's just so used to running—all her life, she only ever ran. Only a select handful of people were willing to give chase.

— — — — — — — — — —

She gives it another week—just a few more days to gather her wits.

Chloe sounds so relieved to hear her voice. It makes Beca feel all kinds of horrible, but Chloe never dwells on that.

And like her body is enjoying playing cruel tricks on her, she dreams of Chloe that night—dreams and remembers what it had been like to hold Chloe close, to kiss her that fateful night before her mind and her heart decided to do the stupid thing and fall in love.

(But that happened long ago, nothing Beca could really do about it now.)

 — — — — — — — — — —

April

Being in frequent contact with Chloe again means that Beca knows she’s not really dating anybody even if there is some guy who hangs around her a lot. It’s “super casual” (Chloe’s words) but apparently, he’s a “complete buffoon” (Aubrey’s words), so Beca isn’t quite sure whether she ought to be more supportive or discouraging. In the same vein, through similar channels, Beca knows when the guy isn't really in the picture anymore and she hates how easy it is for her to breathe again.

But Chloe seems happy in general. And coming to terms with the fact that she will always have some unresolved feelings for Chloe Beale...it’s kind of a difficult predicament to be in.

It's not that Beca hasn't been casually seeing people too—she's been on a few dates and only one real hook-up in the past few months, but she hadn't felt much for that person. For any of them really. And she hadn't told Chloe about them, only Amy in passing. Not even Aubrey whom she knows would just pass it on to Chloe.

A part of her almost wants to let Chloe know that she's happy to move on, but it was never really communicated between them that there was anything really to hold on to—at least, not verbally, Beca tells herself.

Beca is just so used to people leaving, it's almost easier to let people realize that she's not worth the trouble than to have them realize it when she's grown too attached. It's fucking depressing, in all honesty, but Beca hates the thought of being left behind. She hates distance and pining and all those things attached to relationships that never end up working out.

Like her parents.

She clenches her fist and attempts to refocus on the track she's meant to be listening to. It's not much of a lead single if it sucks.

"Well?" Jason, her favorite sound engineer asks. "Thoughts? Comments? Concerns?"

Beca glances down at her phone, seeing that a new notification from Chloe is waiting for her.

She forces her thoughts away and shoves her phone into her bag. "Again," she requests. "Play it back."

 — — — — — — — — — —

Thought of you today, she writes to Chloe later. This new artist on my label wouldn't shut up about acapella. really took me back. 

Chloe's reply is quick. i can be pretty unforgettable like that.

Beca can just see the smile on her face.

 — — — — — — — — — —

May

“Are we okay?” Chloe asks.

Phone calls are more regular now. Hearing Chloe's voice is less painful, but it only makes Beca fall for Chloe more with each interaction.

Beca heaves a sigh. “We are,” she answers honestly. “I promise, Chlo.” 

"Well, then tell me about your day."

"Tell me about yours," Beca challenges.

And just like that, they're okay again.

It's not the easiest, talking to Chloe like everything's okay, but relearning how to be Chloe's friend above all is Beca's priority and she finds that being in love with Chloe and being her friend don't necessarily have to be at odds with each other.

"I'm happy for you," Beca tells her when Chloe finishes a story. She means it.

 — — — — — — — — — —

June

It is amidst a small rant about koalas that Chloe casually drops her birthday plans over the phone to Beca.

“You’re throwing a party?” 

“A gathering,” Chloe explains. “For my birthday.”

“So a party.”

“Beca,” Chloe whines.

“Chloe, that’s-” great, wonderful, exciting .

“I was hoping you’d come,” Chloe says before Beca can say anything else like she’s afraid Beca will decline pre-emptively. It’s almost frightening how well Chloe knows Beca, but Beca is a little hurt that Chloe immediately would have jumped to that conclusion. 

“Chloe.”

“It would mean a lot to me if you were there,” Chloe continues. Her voice is strained, but soft around the edges.

“Of course I’ll come,” Beca says with a small smile, even if Chloe can’t see it. “Where will it be?”

Chloe clears her throat. “New York. Because it’s easier for me and the girls are pretty close by. And Amy already offered her space.”

Beca tries not to think about what happened the last time she and Chloe were in New York. “That sounds nice.” She hates how it’s not a complete lie. “Send me the details.”

Chloe makes some kind of excited squealing sound that nearly deafens Beca, but she can't help but smile.

 — — — — — — — — — —

Her hands are pushed against Chloe’s chest, desperate to hold onto something—similar to how she had kissed Chloe in France. Chloe’s arms are around Beca’s waist and she thinks maybe Chloe has picked her up off the floor, just slightly, but Beca cannot feel much else than the sensation of Chloe’s lips moving against hers and how tightly she is pressed against Chloe's body.

But that is only for a moment. Hands start pulling at Beca’s shirt and suddenly Chloe’s fingers are tracing the skin of her lower back. She whimpers against Chloe’s mouth.

They were supposed to be cleaning up.

This feeling is painfully familiar: Chloe’s kisses send surges of electricity and passion through Beca’s whole body.

It is as if every interaction they’ve had the past year has been leading to this. This—this is everything and Beca feels as if every fragmented piece of her being can finally relax; like every piece of her soul is where it’s meant to be. 

“Beca,” Chloe breathes out. She is still kissing her, so it suddenly tastes like tears between their lips and Beca’s not sure which one of them has started to cry, but she can’t stop kissing, can’t stop pulling Chloe closer, always closer.

"I don't know how to be without you," Chloe whispers. "Stop pushing me away." That alone causes a surge of emotion to rise up in Beca's chest and she pushes forward again, this time almost capturing Chloe's mouth, unable to resist even if they're both somehow still crying amidst a small pile of solo cups and garbage bags. 

"We're drunk," Beca whispers back. They're not.

"We're not," Chloe murmurs, but she steps back anyway, respectful of Beca's space.

It is when Chloe turns back around, clearly intent on finishing their task that Beca grabs her wrist and pulls her, reminiscent of how Chloe had pulled her all those years ago, into her orbit; how Chloe had pulled her all those months ago into the bathroom into the club. 

Chloe's mouth is opening against her own before Beca realizes what she's doing, but she is too powerless to resist.

"I'll stop if you want to stop," Chloe murmurs, her hands already dipping beneath the waistband of Beca's pants. 

"We should stop," Beca admits with a broken tone.

 — — — — — — — — — —

Chloe has to catch a fairly early train back to Philadelphia, so Beca feigns sleep for a bit, even though she knows it is a fruitless attempt at avoidance. Still, they spent the night together—totally innocent—and Beca didn't combust on the spot, so she considers that a success.

"You're not allowed to avoid me," Chloe whispers, pressing a kiss to Beca's forehead. "I'm calling you the moment I reach my dorm." 

 — — — — — — — — — —

July

Fourth of July in New York—it is Aubrey’s bright idea and Amy willingly hosts. She somehow now owns two apartments in a nice walk-up. Beca is only mildly envious.

She isn’t really expecting Chloe to gravitate right towards her, but she has been thinking of that kiss (and almost-something-more) at Chloe’s birthday party for the past month . And she’s sure Chloe has as well if the furtive glances she continues to shoot towards Beca are any indication.

(Their phone conversations have been strained, but Chloe is an attentive friend and cares about Beca's wellbeing above all, so she never pushes—has never pushed since they last had a hard conversation after the tour.)

But still, neither makes a move. Beca can see Aubrey glaring at her from across the room.

It isn’t that she and Chloe have been totally distant from each other. Their texts have become more frequent and increasingly flirty in ways that Beca had missed. After the USO tour, she wasn’t sure she’d ever interact like that with Chloe again.

But their lives have kind of evened out. Chloe is pretty much done with the first year of veterinary school and Beca’s almost done with her album. It’s weird to see her face on magazine covers and to have to engage in interviews, but it’s pretty worthwhile having Chloe send her excited text messages and photos of magazines whenever she spots Beca’s face.

The miss yous and heart emojis are a nice touch.

Beca nearly drops her phone when she hears the unmistakable clang of somebody climbing down the fire-escape steps. Glancing up, she catches the barest hint of familiar red hair and torn jeans.

Briefly, Beca wonders who she pissed off in a past life.

“There you are,” Chloe says brightly, once her feet touch the ground. She sways a little and Beca immediately stands to help her right herself, lest she topple right over the edge of the railing. Chloe heaves a breath and smiles gratefully at Beca.

Beca frowns, taking in the flush on Chloe’s face and the way her eyes shine brightly.

“Can you just...be careful? What if you hurt yourself?” Beca asks before she can stop herself. She sighs, running her hand over her face as Chloe makes herself comfortable. 

“I was looking for you,” Chloe replies, a little petulantly. She pushes her forehead against Beca’s shoulder in an attempt to nudge her. The touch alone makes Beca nearly recoil completely. “Why have you been avoiding me?” Chloe continues, voice muffled against Beca’s jacket. Whether she means over the past few hours or over the past four weeks, she doesn’t clarify, so Beca doesn’t offer a response.

Beca wants to laugh, however. Her brain isn’t working quite at full speed at the moment, because of the double hit of intoxication - both alcohol and Chloe Beale have similar effects on her. Willing herself not to snap at Chloe, she inhales sharply, trying to ignore the way Chloe’s breath feels against her neck. How Chloe’s breath smells a little like her favourite red wine. 

Speaking of–

Beca glances at the wine bottle in Chloe’s hand. “You swiped that from the party?”

Chloe seems to brighten upon noticing that Beca is engaging with her in conversation. “Yeah! Want some?”

It is somehow so familiar and so devastatingly Chloe that Beca’s chest aches for a few moments as she takes in the graceful tilt of Chloe’s neck and the high flush on her cheeks.

The attraction reverberates through Beca like a persistent ache.

She isn’t sure what she is meant to say to Chloe. Not when all this air hangs in between them. The air is thick, rife with all the things that remain unspoken.

This uncharted territory is anxiety-inducing for Beca – perhaps for them both. Chloe for all her confidence and charm is surprisingly shy and insecure – a fact Beca came to know with time during their romance and even further back, their friendship. So now, Beca is keenly aware of how Chloe’s foot taps out a nervous little rhythm from where she sits beside Beca, both of them leaning back as comfortably as they can.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” Chloe asks again, softer and less accusatory. “And not just now . Since—” her voice wavers. “Since Europe. The tour. Since my birthday. Since always.”

“Chloe,” Beca says, sharper than she originally intends. She leans back, resting her head against brick. Good, she thinks, hoping against hope that her brain connects with her mouth and leaves her heart out of the equation. Beca takes the chance to look at Chloe then, wondering if there are parts of Chloe that she doesn’t know—if there are things that Chloe holds close to herself, like secrets that Beca will never get the chance to know.

Chloe looks like she might say something, so Beca holds her breath, waiting for the onslaught of ash and tainted air. Instead, Chloe’s brow furrows and she takes another swig of wine straight from the bottle—a long one—before she offers the bottle to Beca, eyebrow raised expectantly.

Beca accepts.

 — — — — — — — — — —

It doesn’t take long at all. Chloe’s is hot against her neck, from where Chloe has turned her face and her lips brush ever so slightly against Beca’s skin. July in New York means the weather is hot, but that is nothing compared to the heat that spreads from the wet, open-mouthed kiss Chloe places against Beca’s neck.

Beca turns more fully to face Chloe—to question her, really—but she finds her own body automatically reacting to Chloe’s proximity. Her hands are cupping Chloe’s cheeks before she realizes what is happening.

“Please,” Chloe murmurs against her mouth.

Beca was always rotten at saying no to Chloe.

And like clockwork, Beca’s heart pounds erratically when Chloe’s eyes fix on her—when Chloe locks her gaze on Beca with intent and purpose.

“Fuck it,” Beca mumbles.

 — — — — — — — — — —

Beca thinks she whispers “I love you” into Chloe’s ear.

She thinks it might be between orgasms - between their attempt to move to the bed and Chloe shoving her against the door of Amy's guest bedroom. Together, they maneuvered past countless bodies, ignoring anybody who tried to speak to them. Give me this one night, Beca thinks desperately.

She feels it so deeply and knows it to be so true and honest - the fact that she loves Chloe Beale with everything in her even if the way they’re fucking each other might kill them both.

She loves Chloe and she can’t hide it because it hurts too much. She never should have tried to hide it.

All at once, memories from the year before come crashing back, slamming down walls Beca thought she fortified.

 — — — — — — — — — —

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” Beca asks. Demands. She feels hot and angry and upset all at once, watching Chloe make her way slowly across the room. Away from her. Defensiveness is her go-to in moments like this because it feels like too much at once.

At that, Chloe turns around, her own eyes alight with something almost unrecognizable. “Do you know how long I wanted this from you, Beca? How long I waited and waited until it—”

Beca’s heart pounds. “Until what,” she repeats, a little hollowly. “You waited until the last possible second?”

“Ask me to stay,” Chloe says instead. “Tell me you want me to stay and you want me. That you’ll still want me while you’re in L.A. and I’m holed up in Philly. I’ll stay with you. Wherever you go.” 

“You can’t stay,” Beca says weakly even though what Chloe asks of her isn't completely off-base. “Chloe, what the fu—Chlo,” she tries desperately. “I would never ask you to stay. I would never stop you from…” she gestures vaguely. “Vet school,” she says half-heartedly.

“That’s crap and you know it. Tell me to stay.”

She doesn't. She can't.

 — — — — — — — — — —

She doesn't tell Chloe to stay, but it isn't her fault, not entirely. It's kind of hard with Aubrey banging on the door and demanding that they make themselves available for fireworks.

Beca catches a hint of a smile on Chloe's face.

(It ends up being the inspiration she needs to really finish up her album. She doesn't want to dwell on the past.)

 — — — — — — — — — —

August

It’s Amy’s birthday (supposedly), so Beca can’t really find an excuse not to come. She’s trying to be a better friend and all.

And Chloe is Chloe, so she’s one of the first people to hit “attending”.

It is inevitable that their paths would cross again, sharing the same friend group. It takes everything in Beca to muster up the willpower to drag herself out of her temporary New York apartment—her new summer digs and all—and over to Amy’s apartment, which happens to be in the same building. Walking up a couple flights of stairs has never been a more nerve-wracking activity.

Beca immediately makes her way over to the laptop in the corner, taking in the songs Amy has lined up on her playlist. She fiddles with the order a little, glancing up a few times to take stock of the room.

“She’s not here yet,” comes Amy’s clear voice.

Beca jumps, nearly knocking the laptop clean off the shelf. “Amy,” she greets. “I was uh…looking for you. Happy birthday!” she exclaims, injecting real cheer in her voice before pulling Amy in for a hug.

“Thank you,” Amy replies brightly, though her tone does nothing to belie the suspicion. Beca tries to ignore the suspicion in Amy’s eyes. Most of the Bellas know that Beca and Chloe had a falling out, but they don’t know the extent, which, well…Beca supposes that’s the whole point of a secret fling.

Beca swallows and steadies herself before she manages to lift her eyes to look at Amy once more. “Drinks?” she requests finally, hoping the rasp in her voice stays out.

“Sure, right this way, my little DJ.” Amy wraps a firm arm around her and suddenly Beca is being very nearly hoisted through the crowd. “You got the playlist I sent you right?”

“Yes, I’m confused as to why you sent to me though.”

“Aren’t you DJ-ing my party?” Amy asks, mild confusion coloring her tone.

“I guess I am now,” Beca says after a moment. She’s not exactly going to pass up the opportunity to drink in the corner while staring at a long list of music and shuffling songs out of order.

“Not too famous yet, huh?” Amy jokes.

“Nope,” Beca says quickly, refocusing on Amy’s laptop.

Especially when the alternative is to stare at a certain somebody from across the room with incomparable longing.

 — — — — — — — — — —

Chloe’s eyes meet hers from across the room and like a sharp bolt of lightning, Beca finds herself as stiff as a board because Chloe still has that effect on her. Especially with the sharp, vivid memory of Chloe’s lips against her own; Chloe’s hands on her body. Her body tenses even more when she realizes Chloe is making her way towards her. Beca attempts to pretend as if she hadn’t been staring at Chloe for the better part of the evening.

Beca has zero idea how Chloe plans to manage their newfound friendship now with all their history between them. Even now, with Chloe looking at her with bright blue eyes—open and filled with emotion—Beca can’t help but have very…decidedly not friendly thoughts about the woman standing in front of her. Philadelphia has evidently been kind to Chloe, kinder than Chloe’s social media posts have let on. Her hair is longer and her cheeks are just a bit rosier, but eyes are the brightest Beca has ever seen.

So she makes her way out onto the fire escape and climbs down to her own apartment, breathing a sigh of relief at the instant solitude she feels.

“Hi,” Chloe greets from above, having followed Beca like she anticipated.

Beca glances up quickly. "Hey," she replies, willing her racing heart to calm down. Chloe makes quick work of the steps and is soon standing next to Beca.

Chloe looks like she is about to step forward into Beca’s space for a quick moment—a quick moment like so many before—and Beca’s body just reacts . Her skin starts to tingle, her lips part and her mouth dries, and every single body seems to light aflame. Her hands twitch by her sides because every last instinct wants her to move forward; wants her to push into Chloe’s body; wants her to put their lips together.

It feels like a craving at least—a desperate need to fill something that has remained empty for too long. Her emotional reserves are plentiful and her body aches to remind both herself and Chloe of what they had.

(One month apart is entirely too long.)

From the way Chloe continues to gaze at her as the silence expands between them, Beca thinks maybe kissing her wouldn’t be a completely horrible idea.

The clang of the bottle against the fire escape startles Beca but before she can say anything or ask Chloe anything, Chloe all but has her pressed against the hard brick exterior of the building and her lips are sliding sloppily against Beca’s like the last few weeks never happened—like they spent no time apart at all. 

Beca’s hands automatically grip Chloe’s hips as best as she can, twisting her body to face Chloe more fully. Chloe hums quietly into their kiss - a sound Beca has missed so terribly. It sends both a jolt of sadness and arousal through Beca, forcing her to tighten her grip in the fabric of Chloe’s shirt. 

A part of her desperately believes they should stop—that this is wholly inappropriate considering the delicate balance of emotions they’ve struck up between them since that last night in France. Since that last night in June. All the months before.

(But in France, that first time will always remain a pivotal moment—Beca slides her hand down Chloe’s side reverently, wonder in her eyes. She memorizes and memorizes, in awe of each touch and each sound. Everything is new and passionate, burning brightly like the embers of what could be a new love.

And she knows Chloe feels the same.) 

But Beca craves this from Chloe - the affection, the touch - the passion.

Leaning further into the kiss, Beca can taste the alcohol on Chloe’s tongue - a hint of tequila and lime, red wine, and perhaps more. Beca wonders what her own tongue tastes like - wonders if Chloe likes the way she tastes still.

Assaulted by the myriad of thoughts that threaten to overtake her, Beca is overwhelmed simultaneously by Chloe’s tongue and her hands roaming freely across Beca’s body. 

It’s quick, the way Chloe’s fingers deftly unbutton Beca’s jeans. Beca is suddenly conscious with the rough brick behind her head.

“Should we…” Beca clears her throat and tries to focus because Chloe’s lips are molten against her skin. 

“Should we…” Chloe echoes softly, tilting her head back up to press her nose against Beca’s jaw. “I want you,” she whispers, reassurance in her voice, like she worried briefly that Beca was concerned at all about whether Chloe still desired her. 

...she had been a little concerned, maybe.

Beca can only nod against the onslaught of feelings and sensation, opting to chase Chloe’s mouth with her own. She soaks through her underwear at the feeling of Chloe’s fingers skimming along the skin of her hip. 

Chloe touches her surely and boldly, even though Beca thinks they absolutely shouldn’t be doing this in full view of a public street. Yet, for once, the streets are quiet and only the sounds of Amy’s party echo from above them. Everybody is involved in their own lives—their their own parties. Nobody is looking up. All Beca knows—all she can feel is the sure, steady glide of Chloe’s fingers against the front of her underwear. She barely resists from taking Chloe’s hand and shoving it straight into her underwear, but even if she wanted to do so, her body is rendered immobile for the time being. 

Chloe has that effect on her: the effect of being rendered completely helpless because all she wants to do is give herself to Chloe over and over again, even if her heart cries out for some relief.

Beca thinks she curses or at least that something escapes her, but Chloe’s fingers are persistently rubbing at her clit through her underwear and her mouth is latched onto Beca’s jaw. 

It’s hard to think, not while Chloe’s fingers hold no rhythm of their own. They bump and push at Beca’s clit in time with the hot pulse between her legs – like Chloe knows enough about Beca’s body to intuitively feel out how close Beca is to her orgasm already.

(Kissing Chloe always was enough to bring her simultaneous ecstasy and joy.)

Chloe’s breath catches occasionally, when her fingers slip down – down to slowly rub and drag Beca’s ruined underwear between her distinctly swollen folds. Her hips buck up and she briefly wonders what would happen if they happened to fall to their death.

She can’t process much else because she’s clamping her own hand between her legs, stilling Chloe’s hand. She just needs Chloe to stay – to stop for a moment because it feels too good and she wants it to last –

Beca’s not sure how long the ache between her legs lasts, but before long she’s coming apart in Chloe’s arms, eyes nearly crossing from the white-hot pleasure that rushes through her. Her clit throbs and licks against the fabric of her now embarrassingly damp underwear.

“I— fuck ,” she breathes out, trying to get something articulate to leave her lips, but Chloe’s hand, still warm and wet, finds its way to her jaw and grips it tightly enough that Beca’s eyes fly open, only to see the fresh desire in Chloe’s eyes. 

“I want you,” Chloe mumbles again, leaning in to kiss Beca so thoroughly and steadily that Beca almost forgets they’re drunk. Almost forgets that they’re on the fire escape of her shoddy rented New York apartment because she lives there (because she had jumped at the chance to live there because it brought her thousands of miles closer to Chloe Beale) with her pants partway down her thighs. Almost forgets how uncomfortably wet her underwear is. She jolts, her thigh brushing against the cold leather of couch. “So much,” Chloe continues, voice strained and desperate.

“I want you, too,” Beca chokes out, between kisses. Chloe’s death grip on her jaw loosens and they’re collapsing back into each other, a collision of alcohol-warmed bodies, fuelled by the pain of missing each other to the point of devastating heartbreak.

It’s not a lie. She wants Chloe to the point of frustration. Frustration with herself, frustration with everything about their situation.

And yet, she can’t help herself from sinking into Chloe’s kiss, her familiar touch, her familiar nips and bites across her skin.

“In-inside,” Beca manages to say between Chloe’s increasingly frenzied kisses. “We should go-“ She barely manages to halt Chloe’s hand from sliding back between her legs. Instead, she intertwines their fingers, tries to slow down. “We should go inside,” she manages to clarify. 

Chloe pants out against her mouth and nods so slightly that Beca almost misses it. She only feels the barest brush of Chloe’s lips against her own - the marker of Chloe’s nod - before she’s drunkenly pulling Chloe inside the room. Chloe has the sense of mind to grab the mostly empty wine bottle. She drops it on one of Beca’s side tables and they barely make it over the couch before they’re a mess of limbs and badly-aimed kisses. Beca’s back hits the couch, but only barely and they’re both kind of collapsing onto the ground with soft thumps.

Beca fumbles with Chloe’s hair and clothes in a scramble to push up off the ground. “Bed,” she tries to say, but Chloe’s lips are forceful and passionate. Instead, Beca’s sure she only manages to make some kind of garbled moan because Chloe’s fingers are pinching insistently at her nipple and Chloe’s lips are latched onto her neck.

Before Beca can do much else, Chloe is pushing herself off Beca’s upper body, breathing heavily. Beca can make out the desire in Chloe’s eyes. She can also make out the smudge of Chloe’s lipstick and the swell of her lips. She opens her mouth to tell Chloe how pretty she is, but she halts, watching Chloe’s hands tremble as they pull her pretty blue shirt over her head. Beca swallows, leaning up on her elbow to watch Chloe’s progress. Chloe pulls her jeans down, lifting off Beca momentarily to do so. It’s less graceful than either of them anticipates because she very nearly rolls off Beca to do so, kicking at her legs in a desperate attempt to remove her clothing. 

Beca reaches (eagerly) for the elastic of Chloe’s underwear, desperate to see all of her again - desperate to relearn Chloe’s body. To her surprise, Chloe bats her hands away and moves to pull down Beca’s already unbuttoned pants all the way. Beca bites her lip and sits up further to help Chloe by pulling off her own t-shirt, tossing it somewhere behind her. She doesn’t remember taking off her jacket, but she’s sure she had it on earlier. Nothing matters, however, because Chloe is draping herself back over Beca’s body, tangling one hand firmly into Beca’s hair and letting the other grip Beca’s hip with almost bruising pressure. 

Beca wonders if there’s anything new about Chloe’s body – if there’s anything new about the curves and lines and everything in between – based on the time they’ve spent apart. 

Beca moans into the kiss, desperate to feel more of Chloe. She fumbles under Chloe’s bra, trying to find purchase on Chloe’s breasts, squeezing the flesh as best as she can. Chloe’s nipples are hard against her palm and she presses, almost giddy of the familiar feeling (and of the knowledge that she fully manages to incite this reaction in Chloe Beale, still. She craves the feeling of skin against skin, but before she can do anything (not that she could say anything with Chloe’s tongue in her mouth), Chloe is grabbing her wrists and unceremoniously shoving her arms above her head.

“Me first,” Chloe mumbles, eyes nearly crossing as she leans back down towards Beca’s face. Their eyes meet; their breaths intertwine.

Beca can only nod.

 — — — — — — — — — —

The rest of the night passes in a series of heated, passionate moments.

Chloe’s thumb is perfectly pressed against Beca’s clit through her underwear, while the rest of  her hand is splayed out against the front of the lace. Occasionally her nails scratch at the lace, but Beca can barely feel all of that compared to the sensation of how wet Chloe is against her thigh. Chloe bites her lip, grinding down hard against Beca’s thigh while also using her own thigh to press against Beca through her underwear. With her other hand holding Beca’s thigh up and helping her leg wrap around her hip, Beca can very nearly almost feel Chloe’s pussy grinding against hers, with each upwards brush.

“Please,” she chokes out. “Chlo-”

Chloe’s eyes flash and suddenly she disappears. Beca cries out at the loss and tries to sit up.

In her haze—her Chloe-induced haze—she briefly registers the loss of warmth, before her legs are being pushed apart and suddenly Chloe is staring back at her from between her legs. The sight makes Beca collapse back and she only just drapes her arm over her eyes when Chloe licks her right through the goddamned ruined lace. 

It’s a special brand of torture, feeling Chloe’s tongue nudge and prod at her through the lace. She’s soaking through the underwear anyway - she’s sure it clings to her like a second skin. The lace is rough against her – so rough and persistent. She swells with pleasure, trying to squirm up against Chloe’s mouth. Trying to get Chloe to slip beneath her underwear. 

She just wants Chloe’s tongue inside her - she just wants Chloe to fuck her like she did before, that night when everything screamed of potential and before Beca had been too scared and wasted it all away.

Instead, Chloe is sucking her clit through the lace, the duality of how wet the material feels and yet how distinct it feels makes Beca’s entire body buck up and into Chloe’s face again . Every sensation renews the sheer lust she feels, building and building until she can’t stand it any longer.  She immediately yanks on Chloe’s hair, unsure of when her hands even found their way into Chloe’s hair.

Chloe concedes and lifts herself back up. Her body covers Beca with heat and endlessly soft skin while Beca awaits the return of Chloe’s lips to her own.

When presented with Chloe’s mouth, she holds Chloe’s face close and licks her tongue into Chloe’s mouth as best as she can, tasting the bits of herself that she left behind.

In her haze – somewhere between alcohol and lust – she thinks she hears Chloe’s moan; she thinks she feels the way it reverberates through her body and settles somewhere at the back of her mind. She desperately tries to cling on to each memory as it passes through her with each swipe of Chloe’s tongue; with each harsh suck.

Then, a sigh against her inner thigh and Chloe's ministrations are slowing to stop. "I love you," she whispers, so softly that Beca nearly misses it. 

But then she can't do much else than gasp for breath and stare at the plain, white ceiling.

I love you, too.

— — — — — — — — — —

"Stay," Beca murmurs, pulling Chloe's arm as she moves to leave the warmth of her bed. "You can stay for one more night, right?"

Chloe pauses and turns, her eyes the softest Beca has ever seen them. "I can stay as long as you want me to."

Beca smiles, her vision blurry with unexpected tears. "I've only ever wanted you to stay with me. I was just stupid about it for too long."

"I can do that," Chloe promises. She cups Beca's cheek, but makes no move to wipe away her tears. "I'll do that for as long as you need."

And that means the world, for there was a time where Beca thought she had exhausted all of Chloe's time. But, as with most things, Beca learns how wrong she was.

 — — — — — — — — — —

September

Beca is mildly uncomfortable when she wakes up.

...For many reasons, though she assesses that the primary reason appears to be that she’s sleeping on a cheap mattress and her arm is trapped under Chloe’s body. Grimacing, she attempts to roll her shoulders a bit, but winces when that action causes a twinge of pain.

Twisting her head, she catches sight of a tangle of red curls and the smooth, gently freckled back she had come to know so intimately. 

Her heart thuds in her chest, as she twists her body in an attempt to gently extricate her arm from under Chloe’s side. Chloe is breathing steadily and slowly, an indication that she is still asleep. 

She wonders if Chloe dreams of her still, like Beca does; if Chloe dreams of all the things they could do in the future– 

(How close that all came to being could have done; how close that came to being would have done. )

Beca pauses in her maneuvering to reach out with her free hand to trace the gentle red lines across Chloe’s back - the remaining marks of Beca’s fingers scratching down the smooth expanse of skin the previous night. The echo of Chloe’s breath hot against her ear and the grip she had maintained on Beca’s thighs rise to the surface, but Beca tamps them down, almost lazily.

She just wants to be.

Sighing, Beca turns to cuddle into Chloe’s back fully, basking in the warmth she receives from how close she feels to Chloe at that moment. She tucks herself close, brings her arms up against the smooth skin of Chloe’s back. 

Warmth finally fills her chest.

 — — — — — — — — — —

When Beca wakes up again, her lips are pressed loosely to Chloe’s shoulder, both of them still in the same position, though this time Chloe has Beca’s hand in a death-grip and pressed tightly against her chest as she slumbers.

Tentatively, Beca curls her fingers, blinking awake when their fingers neatly intertwine, settling against each other neatly and perfectly.

Without thinking, she kisses a trail up Chloe’s shoulder and leans up so she can press a gentle kiss against Chloe’s neck, warm from the ray of sunshine that comes through Beca’s window. It must be mid-day or at least late morning.

Chloe’s body stiffens as she awakens, but Beca isn’t afraid. “Mm,” Chloe moans out. “It’s too early, baby. Go back to sleep and stay in bed with me.”

Beca smiles into the curve of Chloe’s shoulder. “Gladly.”

 — — — — — — — — — —

October

“Do we need to book a ticket for your girlfriend?” Theo asks her offhandedly while they’re planning her agenda for the next few months until the end of the year. 

Beca is startled. “Girlfriend,” she echoes.

“Yeah. Chloe, right? Red hair. Taller than you, but not by much.”

“Yeah, no—that’s her. It’s just.” A slow smile spreads across Beca’s face. “She is my girlfriend, huh?”

Theo doesn’t bother responding to that. “Okay so I’m just gonna set aside a ticket for her and she can call me to set up flight details if she wants. You can call me later.”

Beca hangs up with a smile on her face.

Chloe exists her ensuite bathroom, drying her hair. “Who was that?”

Beca stands, reaching out to take Chloe’s towel so she can dry her hair for her. “Just Theo being nosy and asking questions about my girlfriend.”

Chloe grins. "And who might that be?"

"Maybe the person who bought these ridiculous matching costumes for a party we really don't have to go to."

 — — — — — — — — — —

November

"My dad's like...super happy I'm dating you," Beca says, going for casual. "So would you like to spend Thanksgiving with my family this year?"

The way Chloe tears up and nods enthusiastically is anything but casual.

 — — — — — — — — — —

December

They’re snowed in, but Beca isn’t complaining.

“What if you’d met somebody last year?” Chloe asks. “And then we tried that whole being friends thing. Which totally didn’t work, by the way.” She kisses Beca’s neck. “You’re still one of my best friends though.”

"There was like one person," Beca murmurs. "But nothing."

Beca had thought about from time to time. There would be people who caught her eye during that period when she and Chloe weren’t really anything. Before they’d kissed again. She imagined having to tell Chloe she was seeing somebody, the same way Chloe had kind of told her about that kind-of-sort-of-not fling. She wondered what it would have felt like—to be able to have another option. “I guess you wouldn’t have been trying to kiss me all the time,” Beca sighs.

Chloe sighs as well, with some amount of exaggeration. “Bummer.”

“I'd feel bad for them, though,” Beca says, keeping a straight face.

Chloe looks up, alarmed. “Why?”

“Because they’d have to compete with you,” Beca says and she finally cracks a smile. But she isn't laughing or making light of the situation. Just amazed that she's there at all, with Chloe tucked into her side.

Chloe doesn’t reply, but she does gently tilt her head up and kiss Beca’s chin, before maneuvering ever so slightly so she can reach Beca’s lips.

It relaxes all the muscles in Beca’s body and she lets herself get pushed back into their pillows, the solid weight of Chloe’s body gently covering her own.

Beca relishes in the strong pull of Chloe’s fingers and the confidence of her lips as they work their way down Beca’s body with stark familiarity.

Their conversation is forgotten as together, they ring in the new year.

fin.

#bechloe #pitch perfect #fanfiction #beca mitchell #chloe beale #my fanfic #mine #queue