#it was just a hickey she let her gay friend give her to practice | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

okay so: coops and jily do the couple fear pong challenge (couple vs couple fear pong by cut for reference)?? pleaseee - m

Anon, you definitely read my mind with this. I’ve had this idea in the works for almost a month and I’m so glad you suggested it!! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for alcohol (beer)

“Are you ready to lose?” James asked as he set up a few lines of red Solo cups.

“Try me,” Remus shot back with a grin. Their respective partners shared an exasperated look.

“Hello, hockey fans, and welcome to Fear Pong! I’m your host, Marlene McKinnon.” Marlene set an armful of beer bottles on the ping pong table and began filling each team’s cups halfway.

“I’m Lily Potter, and this is my husband James.” Lily waved to the camera and stole one of Marlene’s bottles to take a sip. “Ugh. It’s like wheat-flavored moonshine.”

“I think she takes it as a challenge to find the worst alcohol,” Remus mused. “I’m Remus Lupin, the best winger on the Lions.”

“Shut it, Loops.”

“Bite me, Pots.”

“And I’m Sirius Black, the team captain,” Sirius said. “As you can see, this is going to get out of hand very fast.”

Marlene leaned on the table, looking between them with a grave expression. “The rules are simple. If you throw the ball and it lands in a cup, you have to do the dare on the coaster or drink the beer. The team who drinks all their cups first, loses. We’ll do the deadliest of games to decide who goes first: rock, paper, scissors. Choose your champions.”

Sirius and James moved to the front of the table. “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

“Shit,” Sirius muttered as James’ paper defeated his rock.

James grinned as he headed back to his place. “I can already taste victory.” Lily took careful aim, and the ball landed perfectly in the center of their cups. “That’s my wife, everybody!”

Remus rolled his eyes and picked up the coaster. “Leave five hickeys on your teammate. Your opponent chooses where. Aw, man, everyone’s going to see them at practice.”

James raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to chicken out and drink?”

His jaw ticked. “Where.”

“One on his cheek, the rest on his neck.”

Sirius leaned down with a heavy sigh and Remus worked a hickey onto his cheek, pulling away with a soft pop and appraising it. “Not bad. Four more?”

“Four more.”

It took less than a minute for the rest of the marks to appear in a light lilac color. Remus licked his lips and picked up the ball. “Those are such weak hickeys!” James protested. “Come on, Loops, you’re better than that.”

“And yet they’re already done.” He picked up the ball and readied it. “Tragic.”

A few droplets of beer splashed out of the cup and Lily lit up when she read the dare. “Switch outfits with your partner. Oh, baby, you’re going to look gorgeous!”

“Do we get a screen or something?” James asked as Lily began unzipping the back of her dress. Two camera crew members came over with a large blanket and they stepped behind it; after a couple minutes of rustling, Lily emerged in her husband’s too-big sweatshirt with the cuffs of his jeans rolled up.

“Do you need a hand with the zipper?” she asked with a light laugh.

“Got it. Oh, wow, I look hot.” James came into view and Sirius held a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. The floral dress fell to his mid-thigh and the low neckline exposed quite a bit of his chest. He swayed back and forth, making the skirt twirl slightly. “Very breathy.”

“Alright, handsome, your turn.” Lily handed him the ball and he shot it—it bounced off the rim and Remus whooped.

“I can already taste victory,” he mimicked in a terrible Boston accent; James threw the backup ball at him and it smacked him in the forehead. “Ow!”

Unfortunately, Sirius’ throw also went wide, ending up down Lily’s baggy shirt. “Hang on, it’s in my cleavage. Nice aim, Cap.” She dug around for a moment as Sirius flushed, then emerged with the ball, giving it an elegant toss.

“Damn it,” Sirius muttered as he took the coaster. “Make out with your teammate for a minute, but one of you can’t move their lips or tongue. Again with the kissing? Really? Can’t we just switch clothes and call it a day?”

“Come on down to the front, pardner.” Marlene said with a false Southern twang, patting the backs of the two folding chairs she had set up. “Get your smooch on.”

“I can’t move my face, right?” Remus asked as he sat down across from Sirius. Marlene shook her head.

“Get it, Cap!” Lily cheered as he reached out to cup Remus’ jaw in his hands.

Sirius had to turn away and laugh for a second, rolling his shoulders out. “Okay, ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be. Why do you look like you’re gearing up for a game?” Sirius flicked him on the thigh and Remus pressed his lips together, still smiling slightly.

He started soft, placing slow kisses all over Remus’ mouth. “It says ‘make out’, Cap, come on!” James complained. “If that’s your idea of making out, you need to apologize to your fiancé.”

Remus raised his eyebrows and Sirius huffed a sigh, leaning back in for a proper kiss with a significant increase in tongue. Lily whooped and Remus’ shoulders began to shake with suppressed laughter—Sirius moved his hands to down to steady him as the timer continued counting.

“Ten seconds!” Marlene warned. The final buzzer went off and Sirius pulled away, wiping at his lips.

“That felt so weird,” Remus said as he dried his mouth off with his sleeve and tugged Sirius in by his wrist. “C’mere.”

Sirius bent down for a quick kiss before they walked back to their side. “Alright, our turn.”

“I get to throw it this time.”

“What? Why?”

Remus took the ball out of his hand and kissed his cheek. “I say this with all the love in the world, but you suck at beer pong. So does Pots, if that makes you feel better.” His shot spun around the rim of a cup before falling in with a clatter.

“Take an article of clothing off for every sexual partner you’ve had,” James read. “Aw, come on, I’m only wearing a dress and none of you want to see me naked.”

“You’re not wearing underwear?” Sirius looked mildly alarmed.

“I’ve had more than two partners, dude.”

Lily shrugged. “I’m not about to protest seeing you naked.”

“I would!” Remus and Sirius chorused with equal measures of horror. James rolled his eyes and downed the cup.

“James, you have to throw it,” Marlene interrupted as he handed the ball to Lily. “You need to switch each time.”

“Shit,” Lily muttered, giving it back. “Don’t fuck this up for us, honeybun.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He took careful aim, tossed it, and landed a perfect shot in one of the cups without a coaster. Sirius and Remus groaned as Lily cheered. “Hell yeah!”

Remus drank the beer as Sirius lined up the ball; it sailed through the air and bounced off two cups before sinking into the third. They high-fived with both hands while Lily took the dare out. “Call your parents and tell them you’re pregnant—oh, we can’t do this.”

“Why?” Remus snorted. “You’ve already done it once.”

“I would break my mother’s heart if she found out it was a prank.” James shook his head and passed Lily the cup. “I would get the lecture of a lifetime.”

“Can you imagine pranking poor Effie with fake grandbabies?” Lily asked as she drank.

“The guilt would eat me alive,” Sirius agreed. Lily lined up for another shot. “Miss, miss, miss, miss—fuck.”

“Call a friend and ask for a threesome.” Remus’ eyebrows shot up and he looked at Sirius. “As much as I want to win this game, there’s no way we’re doing that.”

“Hell no, I��m the captain. That’s an abuse of power or something.” Sirius drained the cup and set it aside, moving so Remus could get a better angle for his throw. It landed in one of the cups they had already hit and Lily cursed as she drank again.

“Marley, we need to have a talk about your alcohol.”

“I want you guys to know that I specifically asked for the shittiest beer they had that would get people drunk real quick,” Marlene said off screen. “It comes from a place of love.”

They traded three more shots back and forth, each one bouncing off the table or threatening to take someone’s eye out before James got a lucky shot. “I thought you said he was bad at this!” Sirius protested as he took the dare out.

“I thought he was!” Remus defended. “What do we have to do?”

“Let them paint us with glue and pour glitter on us.”

“Alright, let’s do it.”

“Shirts off, unless you want to ruin them,” Marlene said as she carted two containers of glue and some small buckets of glitter out. Remus and Sirius obliged, then stood on the clear tarp she had laid out. “Pots, Lils, go nuts.”

“This is the best day of my life,” James said gleefully as he took a paintbrush and began drawing a wobbly smiley face on Sirius’ torso.

“It’s so drippy.” Sirius let out a long exhale and bounced on his toes as James added polka dots and squiggles all over the place.

“What are you writing?” Remus asked as Lily began touching up her work. “Are those words?”

“Maybe. Glitter time!” Without further ado, she dug her hand into the bucket and threw a handful at Remus’ chest. It exploded in a small poof and only some of it stuck; he wrinkled his nose.

“It’s in my mouth.”

“Gay rights—oh shit that’s cold!” Sirius yelped, batting James away. “Just do the glitter already!”

“Don’t rush an artist!” Nevertheless, James went over and shook about half the bucket onto Sirius.

He spat out a mouthful of sparkles and glared. “Look me in the eyes and tell me that was necessary.”

“Whatever you want, David Bowie.”

“He looks more like Freddie Mercury to me,” Lily mused as she continued sprinkling glitter over Remus, revealing her name written in careful cursive. “This is going to be such a pain to wash off, you two.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Remus shook his hair out and a small waterfall of glitter fell out onto the tarp.

“Back to your stations, everyone!” Marlene called.

The game only got rowdier after that as each team did everything in their power to prevent dares, ranging from shaking the table to sneezing loudly each time someone squared up for a shot. Remus finally sank one and nearly smacked Sirius in the face with his celebratory fist pump as Lily groaned.

“Let the opponent pour ice water down your pants.” James frowned and looked to the camera crew. “I’m not wearing any pants.”

“You’re wearing underwear,” Marlene pointed out. His eyes went wide as she came out with two bowls of ice water and handed them to Sirius and Remus, whose smiles were downright maniacal.

“I really hope you’re done having kids,” Sirius said as James turned around. “On three. One, two—”

Both of them shouted in shock; Remus burst out laughing as Sirius shook the final few ice cubes into James’ underwear. “That was not three!” Lily tugged at her pantlegs and ice cascaded out, darkening the fabric along the way. “Aw, it looks like I peed myself.”

James braced his hands on the table and leaned forward, taking deep, slow breaths. “I can’t feel my balls,” he managed. “Holy fuck, that’s so weird.”

“It’s like a punch bowl down there.” Lily grimaced and picked up the ping pong ball. “I hope you two are ready for payback.”

Her throw was immaculate, despite both Sirius and Remus blowing on it as it arced over the table. “This is terribly convenient,” Remus said. “Wear a childbirth simulator for fifteen seconds each.”

“Fifteen seconds?” Lily swung around to the camera in disbelief. “I was in labor for four hours!”

“You’re also way stronger than we are,” Remus laughed as Sirius helped Marlene drag a beanbag out onto the glittery tarp.

“Who’s up first?” she asked.

“Sirius,” Lily said without hesitating. “He kicked off my labor, he gets to know what it felt like.”

“Do I get any choice in this?” Sirius asked, though he was already laying down and brushing glitter off his torso to make room for the sensors. Lily took the remote and pressed a few buttons. “Should I apologize now or—shit! Shit, shit, mon dieu, c’est horrible, s’il vous plait, owwwww.”

His hand collided with Remus’ and he grabbed it, squeezing it tight as James watched, wide-eyed, from the sidelines. “Baby, you’re going to break my hand,” Remus wheezed.

Marlene’s timer went off and Sirius scrambled to tear the sticky pads off, practically throwing himself off the beanbag. “That was hell. Lily, don’t ever feel like you need to have children again.”

Remus swallowed thickly as he took Sirius’ place, settling back into the cushions. “Hold my hand?”

“Please don’t break my fingers.”

Remus’ knee jerked up on reflex as soon as Lily turned it on and he yelled, eyes flaring wide with surprise. “Motherfucker! Ohhhh my god this is what death feels like. This is what death feels like, I hate I hate it Sirius Black do not let go of my hand.”

“Four hours,” Lily said mildly as he gritted his teeth and Sirius winced at his grip.

The cheerful jingling of the timer made Remus nearly sob with relief; he peeled the sensors off his skin and immediately went over to hug Lily. “You are the most incredible person I know. Please never make us do that again.”

“You chose to do it, Glitter Boy,” she laughed, giving him a playful shove after returning the hug. “Fire away, Cap.”

James had to drink, then Remus, then Lily, and after her shot went wide, Sirius landed a miracle throw. “Let the opposing team shave your head,” James read. He looked up at them and narrowed his eyes. “Touch my hair and I’ll end you.”

“We only have two left,” Lily warned as he took the cup and drank it. “And only one has a dare.”

“I’m not going to sacrifice my hair to win bragging rights.”

His next shot was a laser throw that nearly knocked over the cup it landed in. Sirius’ shoulders slumped when he took the coaster. “Let the opponent smash a pie in your face.”

“Could be worse.” Remus shrugged. “I’m glad I didn’t wear my nice pants today.”

“These chairs are going to live in my nightmares,” he said as they returned to the tarp. Lily and James carefully took the whipped-cream pies from the camera crew.

“Woah, what’s that?!” Lily shouted all of a sudden. Remus startled, turning to look at her, only to get a full pie slammed directly into his face. James didn’t hesitate—he really put his hips into it, and some whipped cream splattered back onto the table.

“Moisturizing is very important,” he said, rubbing the pie in slow circles around Sirius’ face until almost all of it was coating his skin. “Sugar scrubs are all the rage.”

“Do I look exfoliated, sweetheart?” Sirius asked, turning in Remus’ general direction.

“If I could see anything right now, I would say no.” Remus wiped his eyes off and flicked the cream at Lily, who quickly stepped backwards. Sirius leaned over and licked Remus’ cheek, laughing, until Remus grabbed Lily’s mostly-empty pie tin and shoved it in his face.

“I deserved that,” he said, voice muffled by aluminum and filling.

The video cut for a moment, and when it returned, the four of them were pie-free and back at the table. The game had clearly continued off-camera, because each team only had one cup left. Their cheeks were significantly more flushed than before.

“Just out of curiosity,” Marlene cut in as Sirius picked up the ball. “On a scale of 1-10, how drunk do you think you are right now?”

Lily made a face. “Maybe, like, a four?”

“Three,” James said.

“Yeah, three.” Sirius hiccupped at the end of his sentence, clearly startling himself. “…three and a half.”

“I’ll have to agree with the collective,” Remus said. “Not anywhere close to drunk drunk, because it’s shitty beer, but pleasantly buzzed. Take the average of everyone else and that’s…about three and a third? The math is skewed if Sirius goes with three and a half instead. I dunno.”

There was a beat of quiet before James shook his head. “Only you would do tipsy math to calculate how drunk you are instead of guesstimating like the rest of us. Fuckin’ nerd.”

“Fuck off, you can’t even do addition.”

Sirius threw the ping pong ball before the argument could get any more heated and it bounced off the table, hitting James right on the cheek. “Oops.”

“Hey!” It was James’ turn to throw next, and he deliberately aimed for Sirius’ face—Sirius ducked and it flew past him, hitting something off screen with a clatter. “Sorry!”

“Ha! That’s what you get.”

Remus rolled his eyes and took the ball; it went into James and Lily’s final cup despite their defense tactics. “Ah, shit,” Lily muttered as she picked up the coaster. “Pour beer into your partner’s mouth using only your feet. J, do you trust me with this?”

“I love you, but no.”

“That’s fair. To the tarp!”

Remus and Sirius watched with far too much glee as Lily laid down and Marlene put a fresh beer cup between the soles of James’ feet. “Ready?” he asked her. She nodded and opened her mouth as he began slowly tilting it.

“Chug! Chug! Chug!” Remus and Sirius chanted from the sidelines. About halfway through, the cheap plastic cup folded and rolled out of James’ grip, bouncing off Lily’s nose and falling to the floor.

She sat up quickly, checking her hair as the last of the liquid formed a puddle on the tarp. “Is it in my hair?”

All three men squinted at her. “Nope,” James said after a moment. “All good. Did we complete the dare?”

Marlene made an ‘ehh’ noise as she tossed them a towel to mop up the spill. “You didn’t finish the cup…”

“The coaster said nothing about finishing!” Sirius protested. “They did what they were asked.”

“Babe, we want them to lose,” Remus muttered.

Sirius winced. “Right. My bad.”

Both Remus and Lily heaved a sigh as they went back to their positions. It was Lily’s throw next—neither of them tried to prevent the inevitable and the resignation on their faces when the ball landed with a gentle plop aged them by ten years. Remus slid the coaster out. “Huh. Not bad. Let the opponent give you both three-minute makeovers.”

“Dibs on Remus,” Lily said immediately. He looked rather flattered by that and Sirius groaned.

“Pots, I don’t trust you with makeup.”

“Smart boy. Get over here and let me make you handsome.” James grinned and took the container of makeup supplies from Marlene, patting the two chairs at the front. “Lils, I don’t know what half this stuff is.”

“That just makes it more fun!” she said cheerfully as Remus sat down and she rummaged through the various bottles and brushes. “If we only have three minutes, I think we should do something simple and pretty. The glitter is really going to make it better.”

“Three minutes is so much time!” James laughed. Both Marlene and Lily gave him incredulous looks. “No?”

“Honey, it takes me twenty minutes to do a full face of makeup in the morning.”

“Jesus.”

“Time starts…now!” Marlene tapped her phone and Lily uncapped a dark pencil; Remus leaned away from her as she neared his face with it.

“What is that?”

“Eyeliner.”

“Please don’t blind me.”

Lily scoffed. “Have a little faith, Loops.”

James on the other hand, grabbed some mascara and began shakily applying it to Sirius’ lashes. “This is surprisingly difficult. How do I know if it’s working?”

“Usually you can see the color transfer over.”

“My eyelashes are already black,” Sirius said, wincing as James jabbed the side of his nose. “Watch it.”

“They’re also really long,” Lily said as she continued drawing a steady line along Remus’ lids. “Mascara might not do very much for the lucky bastard.”

“It’s not my fault I have long eyelashes!” Sirius protested as James moved on to the second eye.

“Do you have any idea how many women would kill do have those?”

“Ten seconds!” Marlene called. Lily swore under her breath and began putting the finishing touches on the second eye. “And…done!”

“I don’t know about you guys, but I feel hot as hell,” Remus laughed, batting his eyes at the camera. Marlene handed him a mirror and his eyebrows rose. “Thank you, Lily, I look so fancy.”

“My eyes are sticking together.” Sirius grimaced and blinked a few times so the clumpy mascara would settle. He looked over at Remus and went still.

“What?”

“You—hmm.” He paused for a second. “You look really nice. Very punk rock.”

Remus smiled. “Thanks. Some of your glitter stuck to the mascara, so you’re very sparkly right now.”

“Re, you have light eyes, which helped a bit,” Lily explained as she tossed the eyeliner and mascara into the makeup container. “Contrasting colors always pop better, and everyone looks sexy in eyeliner.”

“I wore it for Halloween last year and it was awesome,” James said, heading back to the table.

“Final throws!” Marlene called. All four of them looked over in surprise. “Did you all forget the point of the game? Loser is whoever drinks their cup first.”

Remus turned Sirius by his shoulders and looked deep into his eyes. “Please, please don’t miss this throw.”

“As if I’m letting James fucking Potter beat us in beer pong,” Sirius scoffed, kissing his forehead before lining up for the shot; it bounced off the rim and dropped right in. The room exploded into noise as Marlene blew the victory airhorn and Remus and Sirius began jumping up and down, yelling incoherently. James and Lily both groaned as he drank their last cup.

“Do we get a prize?” Remus asked.

“Bragging rights,” Marlene said as she took their empty cups. “I might have some Lions merch—”

Four hasty ‘no thank you’s answered and she laughed, shaking her head.

“Alright, sign us off!”

“Thanks for watching, Lions! I’m Sirius Black—”

“I’m Remus Lupin.”

“I’m Lily Potter.”

“And I’m James Potter.”

Marlene popped into view one more time. “Quick disclaimer: we do have a designated driver waiting today. Remember to like and subscribe for more Lion Pride content!”

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thatsamericano · 3 years

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LOL, one thing I’m thinking of doing is adding in another version of Romerica, because it’s my story and I can be self-indulgent if I want. (So far we have regular Romerica, platonic m/f Romerica, and a Romerica parallel with two Italians. I’m thinking of adding the f/f version.) I had Chiara in this fic as a student at Sapienza University of Rome studying art history, and Amelia is a student at the American University of Rome studying film. Chiara met her this year when she was just walking around Rome and Amelia was working on a first-year film project (and she was like ooh, pretty Italian girl, better get her on camera instead of focusing on whatever shot I was trying to get before, lol). They became friends, and right now they’re not together, but they’re at the mutual crushes stage. Part of what Chiara is doing when she’s not at the house is hanging out with her friend, because Amelia is in Rome over the holidays and her family might not be with her (maybe her family isn’t FACE, so the relationship isn’t good with her parents and it’s just her sister Madeleine).

Then on December 26, it’s Santo Stefano, which is traditionally a day to visit friends in Italy. Chiara wants to go visit her friend/crush after two full days of being around her family. Nyo Veneziano (who I’ll mention once or twice as this girl who’s maybe around Alfred’s age and looks a lot like Feliciano, possibly Chiara’s sister since she’s often with the mom/dad) teases her when she mentions going out to visit her friend Amelia. She’s like “Are you sure you’re not going to visit your girlfriend?” and she starts blushing and getting flustered like “God damn it, Alice, I told you she was pretty one time! Fucking let it go already!” Realistically, this dialogue would all be in Italian, but Alfred has been studying with Duolingo basically ever since he met Savino so he knows enough Italian to get the gist. (It’s longer conversations, especially if people are talking quickly and over each other, that he has a harder time with. This one is a short exchange with basic vocabulary, plus cursing that he would know from Savino.) Alfred giggles when he sees this, because it reminds him of how Savino still gets around him sometimes, and especially how he was acting very early on when he was trying to deny his feelings. She kind of glances at him, huffs, and leaves to go visit her friend.

The reason why Chiara gets so annoyed with her mom pestering her about Alfred (and her dad laughing at her mom’s comments) is that there is just nothing romantic there. Alfred is obviously in love with her cousin, and even on the first meeting before she knew that she could tell his blushing was out of embarrassment that she had told him his accent was terrible when he’d been trying so hard to impress everyone, not because he had a thing for her. Chiara is too practical to let herself develop a crush on a boy who’s obviously in love with her cousin, two years younger than her, and will only be in Rome for a little more than a week. She has a huge crush on her friend Amelia that she hasn’t told anyone about (but her sister Alice just knows, the way Feliciano could tell Savino liked Alfred without him saying anything about it). Chiara dated boys in high school, and she hasn’t told her parents she’s also into girls yet because she may be only starting to figure this out herself and because she isn’t dating a girl so it’s not super relevant information for them to have yet. No one in this family would care about Chiara being bi, and she knows this. (There’s obviously Antonio, who is bi. Nonno Vargas is bi and was just devoted to one woman for the majority of his life. I’m planning to casually drop that info when he talks to Alfred and mentions that he used to give “boys and girls” hickeys and do more than that with them when he was Alfred’s age if the hickey Christmas Eve incident comes up, but then he explains that he became completely focused on Sofia once he met her. By sheer numbers, there should be at least a couple more gay/bi people in this family.) But Chiara’s parents are operating not only under the assumption she’s straight (wrong), but also that she’s at least somewhat into Alfred because she seems to enjoy teasing him occasionally and making him blush (double wrong, because she might have been interested in Alfred in another life where the circumstances were very different, but not this one). So she gets really annoyed about it sometimes.

Also, Chiara got super blushy the first time she opened her email and saw Savino’s art project because it looks a lot like her and Amelia. Savino was making it a female version of him and Alfred, so of course the brunette girl basically looked like her but with Savino’s slightly lighter hair color (the main physical difference Alfred notices in this fic besides the obvious fact that Chiara is a girl). The blonde girl does look a lot like Amelia too, but with some differences because Amelia looks like America’s canon nyo (so no glasses and no cowlick, which Savino would have added for his boyfriend). She didn’t tell anyone this, but maybe Amelia was around and was like “Ooh, what’s making you blush so much, Chiara?” and Chiara slammed her laptop closed so fast you’d think she was looking at something a lot less innocent than a high school art project that shows two girls kissing.

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noyasboxdye · 3 years

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Let me love you- MatsuHana

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Notes: I’d been sitting on this idea for a while bc I didn’t know how to attempt it but it’s here now :)

Pairing: Matsukawa & Hanamaki

WARNINGS: cursing, mentions of sex, tiny make out scene (its like 2 sentences though), toxic relationship

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Hanamaki was so deeply in love with Mattsun he couldn't help it, he truly couldn't he wished he could but when it came to things like this the universe was never on his side. He and Mattsun were technically in a relationship, but it wasn't the kind that he wanted, nor what he would typically go for. To put is simply they were fuck buddies. It had been like that since March of their 2nd year. After a full year of pining after each other they had finally gotten together if that's what you could even call the course of events.

Hanamaki had talked to Mattsun about how he wanted to be in an official relationship several times before, but it was always the same answer which was that he wasn't ready. Which wasn't entirely true. He wasn't ready for a relationship with him he didn't want a boyfriend- not that there was anything wrong with him having one he just didn't want one. Especially not Makki.

Makki didn't know about this. He thought that everything he was saying was true. So, he gave him time, and more time, and more time, and more time. He was more clueless than the new kid in a friend group who's been friends for years making an inside joke from 3 years ago.

His friends would always try and tell him to get out of the relationship. He was always being told that Mattsun was using him and that he was nothing but a good fuck or a way for Mattsun to get his dick wet, but he would always brush it off and give the same excuse that Mattsun would give him. "Oikawa it's fine he's just not ready for a relationship, stop worrying so much!" he would say as an attempt to calm the boy's thoughts and suspicions, but excuses like that can only work so much.

It would always be the same routine one of his friends (usually Oikawa) would tell him to leave the relationship, he would give the excuse, the words would get to his head, him and Mattsun would fuck, he would ask, and then get the same excuse he's been getting for almost 2 years now. "I'm sorry love I am, but I'm just... not ready for a relationship. I hope you can wait for me though because I really do want to be with you." Mattsun would say with those same sad yet amused eyes and that same pity filled face.

Hanamaki was walking down the halls of his high school heading towards the gym after grabbing his clothes for practice when he noticed Mattsun standing near the classroom door doing what looked like laughing and talking to someone, which he assumed was Iwaizumi. Oh, how wrong he was, he felt kind of- who was he kidding really dumb after seeing the boy of his dreams kiss his classmate. Her name was Yayoi she was the epitome of Mattsun's type short, brown hair that wasn't too long, blue eyes and perfect skin, an hour glass figure that most girls would die for.

He looked so happy with her he was basically glowing. "He never smiled like that with me" Hanamaki says tears threating to spill. Pulling himself together he blinked back his tears and walked down the hall after giving Mattsun a few minutes to say bye and start walking towards to the gym too. Noticing that he was going to be late he rushed towards the gym doors and ran into the locker room.

"Hey Makki where were you." Mattsun said grabbing the attention of a certain fluffy haired 6'0 captain. "Sorry my locker was jammed haha." Makki said awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh okay." Mattsun said going back to changing Hanamaki taking notice of the arrangement of hickeys going down his neck all the way down his body his eyes stopped at his first row of abs, he couldn't bring himself to look further down knowing that if his heart would probably beak even more than it already was.

"Alright come on we're already late coach is going to mad at us." Oikawa says grabbing his water bottle and heading out the door, dragging Iwaizumi and Hanamaki out with him. "What are you looking like that for Makki?" Oikawa says, "I'll tell you later- we're still going to your house after practice, right?" Makki said noticing Mattsun walking towards him and shifting as he becomes uncomfortable. "Yeah- Iwa-chan wants to come though- is that okay?" Oikawa said noticing Hanamakki's discomfort. "Yeah it's fine." the pinkish brown-haired boy said.

**Timeskip**

"Matsukawa can you go get the broom please." Iwaizumi yelled slightly. "So, can you tell me now?" Oikawa said to Hanamaki as they were walking out of the gym to fill up their water bottles. "Tell you what-", "From earlier Makki how did you forget already." Oikawa said his tone becoming slightly impatient and whiny. "Oh! Yeah uh it's not really anything big just Matsukawa doing the same shit he's been doing for months now." Makki said brushing off the event he saw take place.

"What do you mean like he rejected you again or something else." "No uhm I was walking to the gym and I saw him with a girl and... and they kind of... kissed." Makki said tilting his head up to try and stop the tears from falling down his face. "What do you mean they kissed?! I thought he told you he was gay!" Oikawa said his voice raising more and more as he spoke.

"Uhm yeah heh he did but I guess he just lied or something. Honestly, I could just be misunderstanding the situation... I didn't stay to watch the entire thing." The boy says trying to coax Oikawa into calming down. "Well are you going to talk to him about it?" Oikawa says a look of sympathy on his face taking notice to how sad his friend looked.

"No- I don't really have a reason to Oikawa. We're just fuck buddies it's not like we're together or I'm even in a kind of place to asking him about that." The boy said. "Makki you can't keep letting him walk all over you like this." Oikawa said his heart starting to feel heavy as he saw the tears threatening to slide down his friends' cheeks.

"Oikawa it's fine! I'm fine, he's fine, everything... is fine." He said the tears finally making their way down his cheeks despite his efforts to stop it from happening. "Well obviously it isn't fine if you're crying Hanamaki!" Oikawa said as anger started bubbling up inside him at the thought of someone hurting his friend.

"Hey what happened?" An all to familiar voice said from behind the crying boy. "Mm look what the cat dragged in..." Oikawa said giving Matsukawa a sour face. "Oikawa don't. I said it's fine." Hanamaki said as he tried to wipe his tears away in a way that the taller boy wouldn't notice.

"One second Makki come here. Now." The shorter boy said sounding like a mother scolding her child in a store. "What Oikawa.", "Okay one don't act like that I'm not the one who broke your heart. Two talk to him about what happened. And if he brushes you off again leave him." The skinnier boy said crossing his arms. "And if you don't do it then I will for you because this crying everyday bullshit you're doing is getting old. Now go!" he said pushing his friend towards the earlier left boy.

"Hey, sorry he dragged me away uhm did you still want me to come over or no." The darker pink haired boy said rubbing his arms in discomfort. "Yeah sure. I'm ready now so we can leave if your ready." The slightly tanned boy said. "Yeah I'm ready, and when we get to your house can we talk about something please."

**Timeskip**

Matsukawa and Hanamaki both enter the house as it finally dawns on Hanamaki that he has to do this, he needs to leave Matsukawa. Not because Oikawa said to do it or because Oikawa would do it for him but because he finally realized that it isn't healthy what they're doing especially for him.

He's constantly giving and giving to Matsukawa and he never gets anything in return other than a quick fuck and he's tired of it. He's given Mattsun chance after chance to give him what he wants and needs but he just won't do it. It's draining to give everything and get nothing back in return.

Walking into the tanned boy's room and sitting down on the bed putting his bag down next to his feet he takes a deep breath trying to mentally prepare himself for what's to come knowing that the other boy won't take it well.

Mattsun sitting down next to him and giving him a kiss Hanamaki immediately loosing control over his body and kissing back. "Mmm I missed you." Mattsun says turning his head to deepen the kiss not even giving Makki the chance to respond.

"Wait- wait we-... we can't. We need to talk first remember." The smaller boy said trying to compose his self and catch his breath. "Alright what did you want to talk about.", "Do... do you have girlfriend?" he said finally getting a hold of himself.

"What do you mean." The taller said before getting cut off by the other. "Stop it Matsukawa. You know what I mean do you need me to actually explain it to you?" the pink tinted haired boy said the frustration and anger finally starting to settle in after months of dealing with his behavior. "Well yeah I don't know what you're talking about."

"The girl! Matsukawa the fucking girl you were with her before practice before you even try it. You both kissed and maybe I'm misunderstanding the situation, but I don't think I am considering you smiled at her after you did it." Anger seeping into his words the more he spoke. "Why?" the later said rolling his eyes.

"What the fuck do you mean why? We're fucking practically everyday and you ask why I'm worried or caring when I see you kiss another person?! A girl at that!" Makki says his voice slightly cracking as tears threaten to fall down his cheeks once again. "That's all you're worried about really? No, me and her aren't dating Makki. Now come back on the bed I missed you." Matsukawa says trying to change the subject once again.

"No, Mattsun it isn't just that. It's everything-you." Makki said the brunettes smirk faltering as he feels his heart drop. "What do you mean me.", "I mean you Mattsun! It's you, I can't even fathom-... look I don't want to argue with you because I still want to be your friend, but I refuse to let myself continue to be toyed with by you." Makki said grabbing his bag not really wanting to be in his room much less his home any longer.

"How have I been toying with you Makki?" Hanamaki face going sour looking at the boy with disgust. "How have you been... maybe lets start with the fact that we've been doing this... what ever this is since last year and it's become basically a routine at this point for me to ask you out and tell you I want to be with you and you tell me you aren't ready for a relationship! You're toying with me and I'm over it I'm leaving if you're going to continue to try and fuck me then lose my number."

Makki finally walking out of the door his head held high as tears stream down his face. Biting his down on his bottom lip to stop the sobs from making its way past his lips. Speed walking down the road and turning the corner to his house as he quietly wept to himself.

Entering his house and taking off his clothes as soon as he got in his room heading straight for the shower. Turning on his playlist after texting Oikawa that he did it, turning on the do not disturb for the rest of the night.

Taking time to himself the entire night doing a face mask and whitening his teeth while he finished remaining homework. Finally laying down and coming to the realization that he would never get Matsukawa the way he wanted and felt he needed. Crying for a few hours before falling asleep for the night wishing the boy would let him love him the way he wanted. His worries all going away in that moment waiting to sneak up on him the next morning.

#noyas.works #haikyuu!!#haikyuu ships #haikyuu angst #hanamaki takahiro #takahiro hanamaki #matsukawa issei #issei matsukawa #hanamaki x matsukawa #matsukawa x hanamaki #matsuhana #hanamatsu

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deliasbabe · 4 years

Text

Sarah Paulson Characters and jealousy headcanons:

NSFW I guess?

Billie Dean Howard:

She’s literally so jealous anytime anyone gets close to you or flirty, even if you two are just keeping things casual.

If you show up at an event with someone else she for sure gets possessive af

She’ll keep her distance and just watch you for a while, but the second your date gets a little too close and touchy she gets heated

She’s all about appreciation of the art, but it’s a fine line with her.

It’s like a game for her, she waits until you see her and then she gets super flirty with someone she doesn’t care about

But when you don’t seem to take notice, she makes a move over to you.

She’ll start off the conversation innocent, but with a possessive grip on your shoulder

The more interest you show in your date or the more interest they show in you, the worse it gets. Bitchy glares are exchanged, the level of flirtation rapidly rises, she keeps her face only inches from yours. Her hands are touching you whenever possible.

So many pet names and innuendos are dropped

She’s definitely the “I can see other people but you’re mine” type.

And you know exactly what she’s doing and you secretly live for it

Sometimes you get extra flirty with your date just because you know you’ll have her attention

You are completely aware you have her wrapped around your finger and you definitely use it to your advantage

She thinks she’s in control but you know if you play your cards right she’ll give you exactly what you want

And because you enjoy driving her crazy, you play coy and excuse yourself and your date to go dance or talk to some friends

Then you get even more flirty and she is LIVID

Now she can’t even enjoy this damn party because she can’t take her eyes off of you.

And the second you stray away from your date she is grabbing you and dragging you to the nearest empty room for mind blowing sex

And you make sure she knows that SHE was the one who wanted to see other people and keep it casual, so you aren’t the one to blame

Because you’ll be damned if she gets away with this without admitting it’s not just casual

“If we’re just casual then let me go back to my date”

“Oh baby girl this is anything but casual.”

And that’s all you needed to cave

She won’t leave you alone until you are practically screaming that you’re hers and covered in hickeys that your date will definitely see.

When it’s over and you go to compose yourself she shoves your underwear in her pocket

“Hey I need those”

“You can get them when you come to my place tonight, sweetheart”

Lana Winters:

First of all, she’s Lana fucking Winters, she doesn’t get jealous

But whenever she sees someone get a little too close to you she likes to tease you about it

Only because she knows if she pretends to be a little jealous it’ll just make you feel the need to prove how much you are hers and hers alone.

She just likes to hear you tell her how much you love her

Even though she already knows

She especially teases you when men flirt with you.

“I see you found yourself a new husband.”

Which never fails to make you giggle uncontrollably

Because you’re like so gay dude

And you joke about it all night

And it becomes a running joke

“Oh is that your 5th husband?”

You now have like 12 husbands

“It’s getting so hard to keep track darling. You know I don’t like to share.”

She’ll never admit it but she secretly likes when others hit on you because it just reminds her how lucky she is that you are hers.

Cordelia Goode:

Cordelia Goode is graceful and elegant and is just not the type to show she’s outwardly jealous

But internally? Oh yea

She knows you are a gentle soul and are kind to everybody, but she still has insecurities

Mostly because she feels like she doesn’t give enough time to you or she feels like she’s too old.

She thinks you’ll find someone better

So she keeps it cool when you are out in public and it happens, and she won’t actually tell you she’s jealous even when you two make it home.

But she tends to be a little more affectionate

She just wants you to hold her and remind her you love her

Which you give happily because you would scream about it from the rooftops if you could

But there was this one time

It was before you were dating, you were flirty with each other but she was too scared to tell you she had feelings for you

And you were totally clueless but everyone else could see it

You had agreed to go out with Madison and she made sure to tell Cordelia that it was her mission to get you laid that night

And she casually mentioned you going out in a conversation just so you would invite her along

She justified it to herself that she was just going to make sure you didn’t get hurt

But when she saw some guy flirting with you at the bar and you actually looked interested she was done for

So she walked up and placed her hand on your lower back and asked if you were doing ok

And when he didn’t excuse himself and kept flirting she just couldn’t take it anymore

Cordelia Goode never uses her powers for her own personal gain, but she did that night

And suddenly he was saying he had to go and she had you all to herself

And she glanced up and Madison was smirking at her from across the bar

After she had thrown a few too many drinks your way, you told her how beautiful she was and how anyone would be lucky to have her

“Seriously if you were my girlfriend I would die”

“Miss Y/N, are you telling me you want me to be your girlfriend?”

And the drinks had made you a little bolder, so you smirked and said “maybe I am.”

Oh yea, you definitely got laid that night

Bette & Dott:

Oh the twins definitely get jealous.

Like insanely jealous, but they handle it in different ways.

They’re just really insecure, ok?

Bette is the one who cries/pouts because she knows you’ll tell them how much you love them and think they’re beautiful.

Dot tends to bottle it up, but she can’t help but be agitated, which usually means the silent treatment for her.

Bette seems to recover quickly one you reiterate that you love them

But Dot isn’t as easily convinced as her sister by your kind words. She’s more of an action kind of girl.

So after you quell Bette’s fears, you turn to Dot and stare at her for a moment with a loving and apologetic look in your eye

And once her eyes soften a bit you lean in to kiss her cheek and she melts

Sally:

This goes without saying but Sally is crazy jealous

Literally if she could tie you to the bed and keep you all to herself she would

But you tend to be a social person and like to frequent the bar

Usually it’s with her, but sometimes you get off of work and head straight there without her knowing, and most times by the time she’s reached you, you have taken up conversation with one of the residents or it’s visitors

And BOY does she hate that

She tends to be better about the ghosts, but if you are talking with a living human being she LOSES it

And you can tell when she’s mad and you try to sweet talk her, but if she deems you too interested you can bet things will get scary kinky later on, with or without your consent

But let’s be honest, you love that she’s this crazy over you.

One time she saw you talking to the countess and held a knife to your throat as she fucked the shit out of you

She’ll never believe you but you would die and stay with her forever if you could

And despite her crazy possessive moments, you know she could never hurt you, not really,

So you let her do it because you secretly love the thrill of it

Also it’s kind of the hottest sex ever?

Like she won’t leave you alone until you’ve cum so much you practically pass out

And she always apologizes and takes care of you after she knows for sure you’re hers.

Literally the queen of aftercare.

Audrey:

She literally gets so pouty when she’s jealous

You hate that you make her feel that way, but you also love how cute and loving she gets when she’s pouty

One time at an event you were talking with Kristen Stewart and she got so jealous

She’s a drama queen, so she made sure to mope for a little bit before she pitched a fit and ran outside in the rain

And while you were frustrated because you were just talking, you know she just cares about you a whole lot and this is scary for her.

So you ran after her and let her yell at you about how you were going to leave her for a younger woman even tho you damn well knew you were going to spend the rest of your life with her

She really just wanted her “the notebook” moment ok?

And then once she was done you just smiled at her

Which of course made her curse at you

And you just kept smiling until she ran out of things to say and finally smiled back

And she asked you what you were smiling about

“You.”

And you walked up and kissed her

Because you are more than willing to put up with her theatrics as long as she’s happy and with you

And by the end she was laughing at her hysterics.

But she still swatted at you for teasing her

And then you begged her to let you take her home and she agreed

Because there’s nowhere she would rather be than alone with you

Ally Mayfair-Richards:

Despite what happened with Ivy, Ally isn’t one to get jealous

She just thinks the whole idea is toxic, and she never mentions a word about it to you

Expect you start to notice on the nights you go with her to functions and fundraisers, she tends to get a little more attentive

Especially when you have been talking with other women

She’s always grabbing your hand and pulling you closer

And she never fails to whisper in your ear about how much she loves you

If you spend too much time talking with another senator she tends to whisper dirty things in your ear

And her top definitely comes out

She’s not the type to do anything in public, but the second you walk in the door she’s practically taking off your clothes

She’s a gentle top tho, she never does anything without your explicit permission

And she never goes too far

She just wants to make sure you know you are hers and she loves you

And you are happy to oblige

Venable:

So Venable is incredibly possessive

Partially it’s that she’s super insecure, and partially it’s that she is a top in every aspect of her life

However, you work together and she doesn’t want anyone to think you are getting special treatment, so you keep your relationship a secret

But that means that everyone thinks you are single, and at work parties you are constantly dodging weird dudes who want to get you into bed

And despite your best attempts at fighting them off, you still can’t bring yourself to just tell them to fuck off and they tend to push father than they should

And she watches you carefully, knowing your kind demeanor and inability to be mean. Really, she just wants to protect you.

So when you make eye contact with her across the room and give a pleading look, she steps in and tells them to scram for you

But sometimes you don’t look at her, and that’s when she gets jealous

And she doesn’t interrupt you, but she can’t bring herself to look away and she gets angry that she cares so much about you

And when you finally slide up and talk to her, she tends to be colder than usual

But she hates being mean to you and can’t even bring herself to look you in the eye

And you can’t help but feel like a lost puppy every time

So you usually leave the party early, and when she notices you are gone she goes after you and knocks on your apartment door

And once she sees your red rimmed eyes she caves like nobody’s business.

And that’s the only time you two ever really hug

She’s not into PDA, even in private, but she holds you for awhile and tells you she’s sorry

She won’t admit she was jealous tho until you coax it out of her slowly

And you ask her to let you show her how much you love her

After, and I can not stress this enough, soft sex that ends up real kinky

She lets you undress her and touch her back, but as soon as you try to take control she’s flipping you over and tying you up

Literally the only way you get to make her cum is if she sits on your face

Usually that happens first and then she tortures you for hours until you are begging

And despite your tears she knows you love it

Because y’all have a safe word, although it is never used

Because you trust her and honestly, she thinks that might be even more important than love for her

Because even she can admit her tastes are rather sadistic

But you’ll happily submit

She tends to be not so great at aftercare in general, but after her jealous episodes she doesn’t protest when you crawl into her arms and kiss her cheek

Because she tends to be a lot little rougher on you

You tend to go to bed earlier while she stays up and reads, so often times you end up falling asleep on her lap

And she’ll never admit it but it’s kind of her favorite thing

Like her glancing up from her book and seeing you asleep on her chest never fails to make her heart melt like a popsicle.

And when you grasp on tightly to her nightgown? She would kill for you

When she’s absolutely sure you are asleep, she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and whispers how much she loves you and how much that scares her

Also forehead kisses?

And she loves how sleepy you are when she wakes you up

Especially that little whine you make

“What Mina?”

“We need to get to sleep, little one.”

And you never fail to curl back up and pretend you didn’t hear her so she leans down to whisper in your ear lowly

“I know you heard me princess, get up before I have to punish you.”

And that never fails to make you scramble

And she always sings your praises for it as she chuckles

And suddenly she can’t remember why she ever was jealous because you are obviously infactuated with her

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dannineedsfriends · 4 years

Text

The Things We Can't Remember - Parrlyn - Part 3

The long awaited return of danni being lazy

Trigger warnings: cursing, gay disasters and gremlin

Slowly, very slowly, the car was heating up and through the now entirely steamed up windows Boleyn could see the shadows of their front door closing. A person was approaching the car and caused Anne to sit up straight. After taking a deep breath she held onto the steering wheel and listened to the noise of the back door opening. Her left hand was hovering above the heater just right next to the dashboard.

"Hey Jane, sorry I just finished my essay- Anne?!"

As soon as the door shut, Anne took her chance and pressed the childlock.

"What the fuck, Boleyn?" But when Cathy finally grasped what happened, she was already trapped in the small car.

"What's going on?" The girl squealed, eyes widened in fear and confusion.

Anne drummed her fingers on the cold leather of the steering wheel, then turned around to face her.

"It's time to talk."

"Now, Anne- there's no need to be so brash." Cathy tries to reason, hands finding the door and trying to pull the handle to open it, to no prevail. She was stuck, in the exact opposite place of where she wanted to be.

"Usually I'm the one avoiding people, but now you're the one acting like a child, or some random Year 8, who just threatened to bang someone out." Anne cocks an eyebrow, attempting to cross one leg over the over in the tight space. "You clearly don't wanna talk to me and I don't know why, and to be frank, as much as I love you, Cath, it's almost to the point of pissing me off. It hasn't for now- I just need answers."

An uncomfortable quiet, thick as a vendetta's grudge, dangles between the two women; the only sound interrupting the venomous quiet being Anne's leg, on top of the other at this point, kicking and tapping impatiently on the door.

"Are you going to answer me or just sit there?" She sighs, not meaning to spit the words as harsh as she did, and immediately regretting doing so. It was upsetting that she was unable to apologise, because she knew Catherine, and she knew that she'd change the subject if she didn't push, and didn't push her to her limit.

Cathy gives a meagre shrug, not wanting to talk about the fact that she was indeed avoiding Anne's attempts at conversation.

"Look- Cathy- I'm happy for you, really. You found a guy and had sex, it's nothing to be ashamed of." She says with a swift shake of her head and a more than noticeable twitch of her leg as she brings it up to her chest, heel resting on the edge of the seat.

"No.. no- I-"

"Honestly, I'm your best friend and I know you weren't drunk because I think you drove? Yeah you did. I'm kinda pissed that you got laid and I didn't because I mean-" Anne pauses with a cocky look, hands brushing down her body, as if to draw attention to her figure. Which worked, as Catherine quickly found out. "Look at me, and tell me you wouldn't bed this-"

"Anne- it's not that. I really don't wanna talk about it."

"Oh? So you want me to ignore the fact that your neck makes it look like you've been violently ragged and smacked into many door ways?" She makes a rather large gesture to the area, eyes scalding her with their intent stare.

"Why do you use such… such… idiotic similes to convey your feelings?" Catherine tries, shaking her head, hand subconsciously sitting over the hickeys, hiding them from immediate sight, though it didn't work very well. Not at all.

"Ah- ah ah- I'm not letting you change the subject. I just want to know why you've been avoiding me."

"What do you even want me to tell you? That I have some big secret and that's why I'm avoiding you?" From the tone of her voice, Anne didn't need to look at her to know that her eyes were practically rolling out of her skull. Sarcasm dropped from her lips, leaking from her words and leaching to the intent quiet that came after her words. Her mouth curves down in disgust, and Anne notices that she hadn't made eye contact in a while, too long to be normal.

"It better be a big secret, because at this point I am just really pissed off by being ignored and having no clue what I've done to offend you." She begins to ramble. "All I want to know is what I've done to you to have you actively avoid me, more than you normally do to everyone else and it's bothering me and I can't stop thinking about it and-"

"It was you, okay?" She breaks into Anne's word vomit, silencing her practically immediately.

"What was me? That doesn't help whatsoever."

Catherine's eyes stare into her lap, to her fingers knotting around each other, almost ashamed to admit. "You were the one who gave me all of those hickeys."

"You what mate-"

"And I was the one who gave them to you and for one I am not proud of taking advantage of you when you were drinking and intoxicated beyond any fathom of remembering, rendering you in a state of amnesia." She shakes her head furiously, trying desperately to reach a justification of herself.

"You kidding right"

"Do I look like I'm kidding? Just let me out of the fucking car, Anne, I'm not in the mood.” Catherine rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed.

"No- no that's not... I- you have to be joking with me, c'mon Cathy-" Anne stuttered not quite believing the confession.

"I'm not laughing."

"But- what do you mean- how could I have even been anywhere near you?? It would've taken ages to... bruise… you like that."

"We were in a bathroom."

"Okay? Proceed."

"And things got a bit more heated than they should've-"

"But it was just kissing right??"

"Much to your dismay apparently" Catherine retorts, rolling her eyes as she turned away from her. She decided that Anne was definitely drunk when she had told her that... "Okay that's it. Let me out. It's absolutely freezing out and you're treating me like I'm eight-year-old."

Then there was the click of the lock, and Cathy was gone, leaving Anne completely alone to digest her words.

It was rather odd for Anne to volunteer to go to the shops with Jane, especially when it was movie night. Either way, the girl walked and made genuine nice conversation and as far as the mother of the group could tell, she was looking to suck up, either. Now that's weird.

There was a local shop close by, about a five minute walk, depending on how fast you walked, but to Anne it was always five. She tended to speed walk, she noticed as she continually had to slow herself to Jane's pace.

Anne's vision was flooded with a linoleum white, amplified by the harsh lights - dizzying as she stared at the unpatterned floor. How boring. Why would you go through the effort of having a nice shop and not even putting in a flooring that, at the least, goes with the aesthetic?

"Anne?" Jane asks, having stopped to watch the phenomenon that was Anne staring, eyebrows drawn, at the ground, not moving. "Anne - are you feeling alright? You're not usually this quiet… or staring at the ground…"

She blinks rapidly for a free seconds before meeting the eyes of her worried companion, humming a response. "Yeah- I'm okay. I'm just thinking a bit too much I think."

The women begin to walk up the aisles, picking up an unusual quantity of chocolate and other such treats to be indulged in front of the television upon their arrival home. "Thinking of what, exactly?" Jane asks, rather delayed but in defense, she was keeping track of the amount of goodies Anne was throwing into the basket.

"Well- that's the thing, mate." She lets out a deep sigh, throwing another pack of maltesers into Jane's arms. "I think I fucked things up with Cathy."

"You really do need to watch your language." Jane scolds mercilessly, softening her gaze still to eye her. "You need advice, basically?"

Anne nods, lips curling to one side of her face, almost ashamed of having to ask her such things.

"I doubt you've done anything that bad, to hurt her to the point where you completely messed things up, I'm sure of that." She reassures, looking at the contents of the basket and gazing longingly into her purse.

"I locked her in a car."

"You did what?" Her gaze snaps to Anne.

"I locked her in a car and forced her to talk to me- but! In my defense, she's been ignoring me since the party and I wanted to know why… and I did find out." Boleyn mumbles, eyebrows bouncing rambunctiously around her face.

"Anne… oh Anne… that is not the way to go about things."

"But it's my way."

"Anne, locking your friend in a car to talk to her is not the answer." Jane says, rifling through the shelf to find the last box of Jaffa Cakes. Jane likes Jaffa Cakes.

"But I didn't use violence! I didn't physically harm her in order to get her to talk to me so I met all the criteria you asked of me before!" She whines.

"Don't you have any common sense?" The clearly more mature woman asks, turning and walking to the next aisle to get some drinks, waiting for Anne to choose everyone's. She does, of course, piling up the bottles until Jane thinks that her arm has lost all circulation.

"I just don't know what to do. Jane- we- we almost did something."

"I know, I know. Catherine already told me in her own version of…" she gestures to the mess that was Anne Boleyn. "... this."

"She told you?"

"Yes- yes. Please don't go after her about it. She was anxious and… shocked. Yeah. Shocked is the word for it." Jane pauses for a second, turning and beginning to walk to the counter to pay for the binge. "Just ask her out, okay? Like a normal person. No cars involved."

As inconvenient as a coincidence could be, it just happened to be today, didn't it? Anne curls a lock of her hair around her finger nervously, the bit that she had missed putting into her bun. She sinks into her usual seat, watching as the other girls filter into their seats, Jane furthest away, then Anna and Kitty and Aragon and that only left Cathy, to be seated in the only free place. Next to her.

Shit.

Parr was clearly angry with her, and wasn't going to be civil any time soon, therefore, Anne decided promptly that the only way to get Cathy to be nice to her, is by making her fall doubtlessly in love with her. She would achieve this by using her irresistible charms, and Catherine would not be able to betray her true feelings.

How could she not like Anne? Boleyn had given her all the signs and probably more than she'd be willing to admit.

She pulls the blanket over herself further, sensing the movement of the girl behind her and moves on the sofa, shuffling further away to give her more room. Just as predicted, Cathy, without hesitation, nestles into the crevice closest to Anne.

As always, they were sat in form next to one another, staring at the TV, barely touching and waiting for the film to be decided on.

"Who let Jane buy Jaffa Cakes?" Boleyn complains obnoxiously as Aragon scrolls through the films, trying to find the right one to watch. It's horror night: every week it rotated through a chance spinner and this was what it had landed on.

"You were the one who went with her, Annie." Kitty points out, tilting her head seemingly innocently, but Anne knows better than to fall for the I'm-a-little-sweetheart ruse. Her head tilt is accusatory.

"I just don't understand how she likes them- you bite into it and there's the orange glibbery bit and it's disgusting-" Anne continues, lips down turning in distaste and disgust.

"How about this one?" Aragon interrupts the quarrel, and after a unanimous agree, the movie started and everyone shut up.

One thing that Anne marked as a bad idea almost immediately was the drink held in Cathy's clasped hands, occasionally taking a sip. Parr had a tendency to jump during the smallest of scares - and jump she did.

Catherine Parr sat on the sofa, eyes wide with shock and Boleyn even thought she saw her tremble a little bit. The girl was drenched in lemonade - and all she could do was stare helplessly as the other queens paused the film and erupted into giggles.

Not Anne though. Anne just slowly shook her head and peeled the fleece blanket off of her legs and placed the cup on the floor next to the couch, mumbling to Catherine to tell her to change and then come back so that they could finish the movie.

She scurried off into the kitchen and Anne discards the blanket off to the corner of the room, to be washed. Settling back into the corner of the sofa, she pulls most of the cover off of her legs, yawning and leaning back into the couch pillow.

Idle chatter broke out between Jane and Kitty- something about how she can leave any time she wanted if she's too scared and that she'll even take her upstairs and watch a different movie. Jane was nice, it wasn't that Anne didn't think that Jane was nice before, she was just the motherly loving figure to Kat that Boleyn had always wanted. What she would give to have a maternal figure to look up to.

Perhaps she could also refer to Jane but it would be rather selfish, considering that they were practically the same age and Anne just yearned for affection, no matter who it was. She wants someone to hold her before she went to sleep, and kiss her head and her hand and make her feel loved. Was she loved at all..?

That was a real question. Catherine had hardly even looked at her for the entirety of the movie as thus far- how was she to know if she was still mad at her? It was going to be weeks and weeks of torture if she kept this up. Long hours of moping and just wanting someone to hold her hand- just for a little while. They didn't even have to hold it tight, just for a few minutes let her pretend that Anne Boleyn might be worth something to someone.

She shakes the thought out of her head. That got deep super quick and she didn't like it.

Seeing the movement from the kitchen door, she turns at the right moment to see Cathy reentering, draped in one of Anne's dark green shirts- the loose ones that Anne could fit her leg inside of. She had given it to Cathy to wear before, when Anne had accidentally smudged her lipstick on her light blouse when she had hugged her. Needless to say, it was a sight for sore eyes.

It wasn't a rare occurrence for Boleyn to stare her down but this- this was something different. before she had even opened her mouth she was cut off.

"This was the only shirt left out on the side. 'Hope you don't mind." She says, shrugging one shoulder and walking into the room to shove herself back in the spot next to Anne.

"No it wasn't- I did the washing earli-" Anna is cut off by Catherine's glare from across the room, as well as Howard's elbow to her arm.

Silence ensues once more as the girls settle, Boleyn turning herself completely and throwing the blanket over Cathy too, shuffling up to lean on her and idly resting her hand between them on the sofa.

A few minutes after the film had been resumed, Parr's arm had found it's way around Anne's shoulders, gently holding her in place. Though, when Boleyn had moved her hand in between them, to make sure it was still there, she realised how odd that it was that the sofa felt so smooth beneath her touch.

She draws her eyebrows together, softly pinching the material and running her fingers over a small area, truly mesmerised by how soft Jane had made the couch. Maybe the fabric softener she had used had worked - and worked well at that. Her trimmed nails didn't even catch, either! It was unnecessarily satisfying being able to touch the sofa without getting stuck on it.

Cathy shifts next to her, squeezing her shoulder slightly and Anne has to look over in confusion. What's wrong with her? Was she scared, maybe? She looks back to the screen and nothing particularly interesting was happening, just two characters talking, one clearly wounded.

Boleyn lays her head against her shoulder again, hand still tapping meticulously against the sofa. She yawns softly and turns, putting her forehead to her shoulder and pressing a kiss through the sheer fabric and turning back like she did nothing.

"Anne-" Cathy's soft voice whispers in her ear and her stomach drops, thinking she's in trouble. The whisper was low and gentle and she knew for a fact that she was the only one who could hear it. When she turns her head, Parr's lips close softly against her cheek. Anne's face flushes a soft pink, turning away as a massive grin crawls across her face.

All goes smoothly, too, until Cathy removes her arm from around Boleyn. Okay- fair. Maybe she was just uncomfy. She brushes it off and watches the film, still leaning into her.

But what she didn't expect was Catherine's hand to reach under the blanket and press immediately on top of her own.

"Hm?" Anne hums, turning and looking at her. Fingers are wrapped around her own, gently guiding her hand down a curve in the sofa. Wait-

Wait no-

That's not how the sofa is- they're both sat on one cushion-

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Anne realised, startled and a little bit too late, that her hand was now resting on Catherine's inner thigh. Had it been there this entire time?

So the couch wasn't soft. She was delusional. It- it was Cathy's leg the whole- shes an idiot. Anne decided. She was an idiot.

Letting out a breath, she closes her eyes slightly and turns to watch Parr, increasingly concerned as her face contorts, posture closing in on itself, looking as if she was the most uncomfortable that one person could possibly be. She shakes her head to herself and Anne has the strong urge to kidnap her again (not to the car, this time) and hold her until she's able to make witty comments again.

Instead, all she does is give her thigh a reassuring squeeze.

"It's not real, love." Boleyn whispers, making sure she wasn't attractive any unwanted eyes, and sitting up straighter to kiss her shoulder again. "I promise- you don't need to be scared."

And with Anne so close, it was practically impossible.

About 20 minutes before the movie had ended, Boleyn threw the covers off of herself and skittered off to the kitchen, earning some weird glances but everyone just shrugging. Sometimes Anne forgot that she had a bladder. Maybe?

In the kitchen, Anne rips off a small piece of paper, and taps anxiously on the marble countertop. How could she word this eloquently?

She watches the clock on the wall, the seconds passing on and on and on and nothing in particular was coming into her mind. Was she about to fuck shit up? Always.

"You and me. Date. Saturday." Anne writes, her immaculate handwriting pressed finely into the paper. Where beneath the draws two small boxes, labeling one 'yes' and the other 'absolutely'. She folds the note and proceeds to write on the front: for the eyes of my cathy p <3 only.

She releases a rattling breath as she calmly walks back to the living room, wading through the tension as she flicks off the kitchen light. Anne tucked herself back next to Catherine.

With her heart beating in her ears, she hands her the slip of paper.

Tag list: @obliviousasheck @everything-insanity @epitomeofchaoss @nancynotruth @distracting-childish-rivalry @its-totes-gods-will @canadianharrypotter @whenallthestarscollide @annabanana2401 @sillystarshine @33o9 @six-is-awesome @weepingvenus

#it could be parrlyn idk man #parrlyn if you squint #parrlyn #parrelyn #catherine parr x anne boleyn #catherine x anne #catherine #anne boleyn #six the musical #six fanfiction #six fandom #six #six fanfic #anne boleyn x catherine parr #anne x catherine #catherine parr

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rawmeanderson · 5 years

Text

bring you back to me ― part viii

ft. jeff skinner plot: when your high school sweetheart gets traded to the same city where you now live and work, your best friend just can’t mind her own business ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ warnings. swearing, drinking, all sorts of nsfw stuff 👏🏻 word count: 6.4k 118 days later, here I am and just lazy as always, hence the fact that I’ve got no gif for you gays again, whoops. i’m sure no one is surprised that this is pm unedited. thank you everyone for your patience in me getting this chapter out for you guys. it was a long ass off season, but now i’ve got my writing mojo back, so I hope you guys enjoy!! 💞 visit my masterlist (there’s a link in my description!) to sign up for email alerts or to view the master document with all parts of the fic for easy binge reading!!

It startles you to the point that you jump slightly when your phone starts vibrating violently against your desktop. With your heart leaping still, you grin when you glance at it to see Jeff’s name across the screen, ringing again a second later. You answer the call and lift your phone to your ear, rotating in your chair to face away from the computer, welcoming the distraction.

“Hey,” you say casually, still smiling as you bring your hand up to chew on your thumbnail.

“Hey, beautiful,” he responds, and you hear the sound of his car door shutting. “How’s work?”

“Uneventful. Are you out of practice already?” Your words come as you check your watch to see the time.

“Yeah, coach let us go a little early today,” he tells you, and you hear him try to stifle a yawn.

“Are you gonna head home for a nap?” you ask with a soft laugh, pushing your hair out of your face.

“Yeah, probably,” he admits, earning a snort out of you.

“I hope you know that I’m crazy jealous.”

The after practice phone calls had come every day in the week that followed Jeff’s return from the road trip. It had become part of the easy routine the two of you had settled into. You’d stayed together a handful of nights, gone to one of his two home games that week. Being together was just easy.

“Do you want to go out for drinks tonight? Some teammates and their girls are going out, so I just figured it’d be a good time for you to meet everyone,” he says following a short pause. You know he’s driving, you can hear the soft clicking of his blinker and the hum of the radio.

“Uhm, what time? I’m grabbing dinner with some colleagues, so as long as it’s after that, yeah, I’d like to go,” you tell him, despite feeling a little nervous about meeting more of his teammates.

“Yeah, that should work. Do you think 9 would be a good time to shoot for?”

“I think so, yeah, we should be done by then,” you say, leaning back in your seat a bit more. Your stomach is growling, and you’ll be happy to take your lunch break once you’re off the phone with Jeff.

“Great, I’ll send you the address later,” he tells you, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “You wanna stay at mine after?”

A wide grin spreads across your face, and you laugh quietly. “Yeah, sure,” you say, feeling heat rise up the back of your neck as you wonder if the hickeys you’d left on his chest a couple nights early was still there.

The two of you talk for a few more minutes until he reaches his parking garage, and you say your goodbyes as he gets into the elevator. As if on cue, your stomach growls loudly the second you hand up, and you step out of your cubicle to see if Lydia had had lunch yet.

You and Lydia ended up going out for sandwiches around the corner from your office, taking your time to get back to work. You told her about going out with Jeff to meet some of his teammates, and asked if she’d want to go with you, figuring she’d jump at the opportunity. She declined your invitation, which was a surprise, but you didn’t push for a reason. It was a nice lunch though, considering you hadn’t seen much of her in the last few days. The two of you solidified plans for the game you were going to in a few days, and you eventually went back to your desk to finish out the work day.

Somehow, the rest of the day went by quickly enough. Dinner was nice, considering it was with work friends you didn’t see very often. After eating, you hung around for a while, catching up as you finished your glass of wine. By the time you went your separate ways, it was earlier than you expected, and you texted Jeff to let him know you were on your way to the bar.

Since you were staying in the city overnight, you’d just left your car in the garage at work, sure that Jeff would give you a ride to work in the morning. You ordered an Uber to the bar, and in the backseat of the car, you reapply your lipstick and try your best not to feel nervous at the prospect of meeting more of Jeff’s teammates.

When you walk in, it’s easy to spot everyone, and Jeff’s back is to you as you approach. There’s an empty glass in front of him and another that’s only a third full in his hand, and when you’re close enough, you run your hand over his shoulder and lean to kiss his cheek. He looks at you and a grin spreads widely across his face as he greets you. Shrugging off your jacket, you glance around the table, and you’re happy to see some familiar faces. As you get settled into your seat, Jeff goes around the table to introduce everyone.

Ten minutes later and you’ve relaxed a little, chit-chatting with a few of the girls. You feel a little out of place, considering you’re still in the same black slacks and blouse that you’d worn to work earlier. Jeff’s hand is resting on your knee under the table, and it’s more than a little distracting. He finishes his second beer and squeezes your knee lightly to get your attention.

“I’m gonna go grab another drink, do you want anything?” he asks, grinning at you still and you notice a slight flush coloring his cheeks. “Yeah, I’ll go with you, I want to see what they’ve got on tap,” you tell him, tucking your hair behind your ear as you slip out of your seat.

The bar’s not very crowded, but there’s a short wait to order drinks and Jeff’s arm slips around your shoulders easily. You take the time to look at the draft listing on the wall, humming in thought quietly as you try to decide what you want.

“How was dinner?” he asks, warm as you lean into him slightly.

“It was nice, a good chance to catch up with some colleagues I don’t see very often,” you respond, tilting your head up to look at him. He drops his head to kiss you quickly, and you smile against his mouth, grateful that you’ve got this quick minute to catch up.

The two of you talk softly for a few more moments before it’s Jeff’s turn to order. He asks what you want and once you respond, he pulls away to step up to the bar. You fish your phone out of your pocket, texting Lydia the name of the bar in case she’d changed her mind about wanting to come out.

Someone behind you said your name, and you jumped slightly, turning to see who it was. You were greeted by a familiar face you hadn’t seen in a while, a friend from work that had taken a position in another city a few months earlier.

“Oh my god, Peter, hi!” you exclaim, grinning widely as you take a step closer to hug him quickly. “I didn’t know you were in town! I just had dinner with Vanessa and Gayle!” You’re practically beaming, still shocked to see him.

“My mom’s birthday is this weekend, so I figured that warranted a trip home. My brother dragged me out tonight,” he says, pointing over his shoulder. “How have you been? You look great. I wasn’t even sure it was you when I saw you, I know you and Lydia usually stick to Stella’s.”

The mention of Stella’s makes you snort softly, reminded of the number of times Peter had picked you and Lydia up after a night of drinking. “Trust me, I’d love to be at Stella’s right now,” you say, shrugging with a laugh. “I’m out with my boyfriend and his teammates, so I didn’t get to pick the bar.” You pause, glancing over your shoulder to see Jeff approaching you. “Oh, speaking of which, here he is.”

Jeff is clearly sizing Peter up as he hands you your beer, arm sliding around your shoulders in a rather protective manner as you thank him quietly for the drink. Peter looks rather surprised, clearly recognizing Jeff, and it’s an interesting few seconds to watch unfold.

“Uh, Peter, this is Jeff,” you say, breaking the short silence. “Jeff, Peter. We used to work together, but he transferred to an office out of state a while back.” Jeff clearly relaxes when he realizes Peter is someone you actually know rather than some random guy that wouldn’t leave you alone.

“Nice to meet you, man,” Peter says, offering his hand which Jeff shakes.

“Yeah, you too,” he responds quickly before glancing down at you. “I’m gonna head back to the table, okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right there,” you assure him, smiling quickly as he pulls away. As polite as ever, Jeff tells Peter to have a good night before taking off, and Peter gives you an impressed look that makes you snort.

“We’ve clearly got a lot of catching up to do,” he teases, making you roll your eyes with a grin as you take a sip of your drink.

“Yeah, we do. How long are you in town? I’m sure Lydia would love to see you too.”

“My flight takes leaves Monday morning. Let me see what I’ve got going on family-wise, and I’ve still got your numbers, so I’ll start a group chat to see if we can find a time to grab lunch or something,” he says, warm smile on his face. “I’ll let you get back to your friends though, yeah?”

You nod, taking a step forward to hug him tightly. “Sounds good. I’ll see you soon then,” you tell him, pulling back and already starting back toward the table with a wave.

Retaking your seat at the table, you rejoin the group midway through a debate over the Office versus Parks and Rec, and you’re content to listen as you take drinks from your glass here and there. You nudge Jeff with your knee gently under the table and from the corner of your eye, you see him grin as he nudges you back, his hand settling on your thigh a moment later.

Half an hour later as you’re finishing your beer, Jeff leans to kiss the side of your head, asking softly if you were ready to head out for the night. You tell him you’ll be ready to head out in another ten minutes or so, and he nods, finishing off his beer as well. His hand had moved a little higher on your thigh without you really noticing, and you can’t help the slight smirk that tugs at the corners of your mouth.

“You can go ahead and order a ride home if you want,” you tell him, enjoying the bit of color in his cheeks brought on by the beer. He nods and fishes his phone out of his pocket, and after a moment, he says the car will be there in five.

After slipping on your jacket, the two of you say your goodbyes, and you’re glad that Jeff had thought to invite you. Meeting more of his teammates made everything feel a lot more real, and there’s a content grin on your face as you headed out to the street, Jeff’s arm around you as you walked.

“Did you have a good time?” Jeff asks, kissing your hair softly as you lean into his frame. His eyes are on his phone, checking the make and model of the vehicle you were keeping an eye out for.

“Yeah, definitely,” you assure him, nodding quickly. “It’s nice getting to meet everyone, and running into Peter was a nice surprise too.” It’s then that the car pulls up, and Jeff is quick to open the door, letting you slide into the seat before joining you. He greets the driver and is already pulling you back to his side.

“You said you used to work with Peter?” he asked, and you looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. The question was innocent enough to come off as small talk, and you laugh it off softly as you rest your head on Jeff’s shoulder.

“Yeah, he worked in a different department though,” you explain, trying to stifle a yawn. It’s warm in the back of the car, enough so that it’s making you a little drowsy. “He’s a good guy. We made out a Christmas party one year, but Lydia was always far more into him than I was.”

Jeff makes a noise that you can’t determine the meaning of, and you snuggle in closer to his side.

“What, you jealous?” you ask, teasing tone to your voice. He shrugs, chuckling softly.

“Nah. I mean, I’ve made out with you at more Christmas parties than he has, so I feel like I’m in decent shape,” he responds, earning a laugh out of you.

“Yeah, you are, don’t worry,” you tell him, tilting your head up kiss his cheek softly.

The rest of the drive passes quickly, and you stay tucked into Jeff’s side. You’d only had the one drink, but Jeff had had a few more, and he was still tipsy, it was obvious in the way he toyed with your hair idly and the way he couldn’t seem to get you close enough.

In the elevator a few minutes later, Jeff crowds you up against the wall, grinning all the while as his hands settle on your hips. Before the doors are even closed, his mouth is on yours, kissing you sweetly as he squeezes you, hands moving up like he can’t keep them off you. You laugh quietly against his mouth, hand resting on his chest. When he pulls back, you grin, enjoying the sight of his flushed cheeks as his hands start to wander along your waist over the fabric of your blouse.

“You look awfully happy,” you tease, laughing again as he leans in again, this time attaching his lips to your neck. Your head immediately lolls to the side, a breathy sigh leaving you as his mouth moves over your pulsepoint.

“I am,” he says, words mumbled against your skin. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve got you all to myself for the rest of the night.” The words make you roll your eyes as a grin tugs at your mouth, and before you can respond, the elevator chimes before the doors open.

Jeff untangles himself from you with a begrudging sound, like it’s the hardest thing he’s ever done, and you chuckle as your hand finds his to tug him out of the elevator with you. As he fishes for his keys, you hug him, leaning into his chest and nuzzling into his collar bone while he gets the door open.

Inside, you slip out of your jacket and kick your shoes off, sighing softly as you hear Jeff moving around behind you. He says your name a second later, and you turn to look at him, grinning at the fact that he’s already reaching for you. Your arms start to slip around his neck, but his hands catch your wrists, pinning them above your head as he presses you against the wall just inside the door. It catches you by surprise, earning a gasp out of you as you instinctively arch to press closer to him.

When he kisses you, it’s rough, hungry, and you moan against his mouth as he keeps you pressed against the wall. His hand on your wrists is tight, but not uncomfortably so, and the fact that you’re not able to touch him has you growing impatient pretty quickly. Jeff tastes like beer, but you hardly care, and you let your teeth catch on his bottom lip, something that never fails to get a groan out of him.

You’re already panting by the time he pulls away just enough to kiss down the column of you throat, sucking at your skin. He’s nosing along the collar of your shirt and one hand leaves your wrists to drop to your waist. His hand slips under the hem of your top, hot against your skin as it moves up to brush his fingers along the band of your bra.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he murmurs into your cleavage, groaning into your skin. His tongue slides over the top of your breast and you shiver, breathing his name as your clit throbs. You arch your back, trying to press closer to him and he releases your other wrist to tug your shirt off over your head.

He grins down at you as he drops the fabric to the floor next to your feet, and the darkness in his eyes sends heat down your spine. You can’t stop yourself from reaching for him again, hands cupping his face as you pull his mouth back to yours. The kiss is rather sloppy, with Jeff humming against your mouth in a way that makes your insides turn to mush as heat pools between your thighs.

“Jeff, bedroom,” you breathe against his mouth, arm slipping around his neck despite the fact that you should be pulling away to drag him toward his room.

“Wanna make you cum first,” he responds, mouth barely leaves yours as he speaks. The quick statement makes your cheeks flush, and you do your best to ignore it. You don’t have the chance to respond before he’s pressing his body against yours firmly so you’re pinned back against the wall again.

You squirm slightly, legs pressing together, and you can already feel that you’re soaked. It’s so easy to get lost in the kiss that you’re mind goes blank as his tongue slides along yours, barely even aware of the fact that his hand is moving to unfasten you’re bra. He pulls the fabric away from your body and he leans back to look down at your newly exposed skin. Jeff looks incredible then, lips parted and slightly swollen, catching his breath as he takes the time to admire your tits.

He realizes he’s staring, and his eyes lift to yours and he’s smirking as he drops his head again. Jeff leaves another line of hot, sucking kisses down your sternum as his hands move over your waist like he can’t touch you enough. His mouth ghosts over your nipple and you gasp, hand sliding up his neck to run your fingers through his hair.

When you glance down at him, he’s looking up at you, and you can feel your flush creeping down your neck as you let your head rest back against the wall. A curse leaves you as he sucks a mark into the side of your breast, humming contently as he does so. He unfastens your trousers and you arch your hips toward him as pushes the fabric down your thighs. You kick them off easily, somehow managing not to trip as you toe them away. Jeff pulls back to look at you, cocky grin on his face as you squirm, pulling him back to you.

“Fuck, I love you,” you tell him, kissing him hard as you start unbutton his shirt. His hand slides up your waist to cup your breast, thumb rubbing over your nipple firmly and you make a needy whine that gets caught in your throat. Your fingers are shaking as you work at the last few buttons, cursing under your breath impatiently.

“Love you too, baby,” he murmurs, pulling back with a wide smirk in response to the sound you made. He leans away enough to slip out of his shirt and drop it to the floor, and you lick your lips as your eyes slid down his familiar frame. “I’ve been thinking about having you like this all day.” His words are soft, but there’s no mistaking the dark tone of it and he’s looking down at you as he presses closer.

When he kisses you again, he slips his hand into your panties easily, both of you groaning in unison when his fingers slip between your folds. Your hips immediately push toward his, and your arm loops around his neck for support as you swayed on your feet slightly. When you glance up at him, he’s watching you, and your clit throbs as his fingers sweep over it lightly.

Your hips rock against his hand slightly and you moan into Jeff’s mouth as his tongue slides over yours. His other hand drops from your waist to tug your panties down, and you shimmy enough to get them down to your ankles so you can kick them off. Jeff makes a sound of appreciation and you laugh softly, arms tightening around his neck to keep him from pulling away.

“So wet, sweetheart,” he breathes against your mouth and you nod slightly, biting his bottom lip as two of his fingers tease at your entrance. You can hear the sound of your arousal as his fingers just barely dip into you, and you huff with impatience.

Jeff’s smirk is obvious, and his mouth leaves yours to press a kiss to your cheek before moving down your jaw. He sinks two fingers into you and you sigh with relief, head falling back to rest against the wall behind you. Taking advantage of your new position, Jeff’s mouth settles on your pulsepoint and you curse under your breath as his fingers curl inside you.

“Fuck, Jeff,” you whine, feeling his fingertips against your g-spot. He lets the blunt edge of his teeth drag over your skin and your eyes squeeze closed as his thumb rubs a circle against your clit. Your toes curl against the floor as your hips rock firmly against his hand, wanting his fingers deeper inside you.

He’s sucking a mark against the side of your breast as he slips a third finger into you, and your back arches as you cry out for him. The heel of his hand starts grinding firmly against your clit with each motion of his fingers, and you curse again, barely able to tell which way is up by that point. Jeff keeps close to you, mouth eventually moving against your collarbone as he curses into your skin.

You’re grateful that he’s clearly not in the mood to do much teasing, quickly setting a rather rough rhythm as his fingers fuck into your cunt. With your arm around him, your nails dig into his shoulder and you arch in an effort to get more skin to skin contact. You almost hate that it’s so easy for him to make you unravel for him like this, barely even inside the door, but right now, it feels way too good to even care.

Your body feels like it’s on fire, sure that you’re flushed from head to toe as you squirm impatiently, hips moving against his hand. He’s standing so close to you, using one knee to keep your legs open, and when you rock against him, it’s impossible not to notice the line of his cock through his pants. Your hand slides up his neck to tangle in his short curls and your mouth drops open, but no sound comes out.

“You’re already close, aren’t you?” he asks, voice low as looks down at you. Forcing your eyes open to look at him, you nod, feeling yourself tighten around his fingers as a smirk slides onto his face.

His mouth crashes into yours in a rough, needy kiss that you moan into. Jeff licks into your mouth and you melt back against the wall, hips still grinding hard against his hand while his fingers curl roughly inside you.

His mouth leaves yours to look down in you, eyes moving slowly over your kiss swollen lips and taking in your dazed expression. The motion of his fingers picks up, taking you by surprise and nearly knocking the wind out of you. You press your lips together to stifle a filthy groan, and Jeff’s other hand lifts to cup your breast, teasing over your nipple to make you arch for him.

“I wanna hear you, sweetheart. Wanna hear you say my name when you cum,” he says, tugging at your nipple teasingly. His smirk is back, and you’re so close that you can’t even respond to him, eyes rolling back as your face creases with pleasure. “Shit, Jeff, oh my god,” you pant, the last syllable dragging out into a whine as you’re finally pushed over the edge.

The orgasm hits you hard, body tensing as your nails brush over his scalp. Clinging to him desperately, your curse again under your breath, rocking down to practically fuck yourself onto his fingers. Your throat’s dry from all of the whining and moaning you’ve done and your voice sounds wrecked as you breath his name. It feels like every nerve in your body is raw and exposed, and you’re grateful to have the wall behind you to lean against.

Your heart is thundering in your eyes as your orgasm slows, Jeff’s fingers still rocking against your core, gentler now like he’s guiding you down. It’s impossible to keep your eyes open any longer, so you let them close, already trying to guide Jeff’s mouth back to yours.

“I love you, holy shit,” you murmur between lazy kisses. You have to pull away frequently for a quick breath, he’s grinning at you when you open your eyes again.

“Love you too, more than anything,” he responds, sounding relaxed and sincere.

With a sigh, you bring a hand up to push your hair back, still trying to catch your breath as he pulls his fingers from you. You can see that the three fingers a slick with your wetness and you lick your lips. Like he’s read your mind, he slips the three digits into your mouth, and you immediately moan again at the taste of yourself on his thick fingers. Jeff’s breathing seems to pick up as he watches you, and you look up at him through your eyelashes as you suck his digits clean.

“Time to head to bed?” he asks you as he pulls his fingers from your lips, leaning to kiss you again, just as hard as he had earlier. You hum loudly, nodding as much as you can without breaking the kiss. Looping your arms around his neck, you rock your hips toward his to make him moan.

With a frustrated sounding sigh, Jeff pulled away, and you laugh as his hand slid into yours to pull you toward his room. The line of his cock straining against his pants is obvious by then, hence his urgency. You can tell that his shoulders are tense, and there’s a slight flush creeping up the back of his neck that makes you grin.

Closing his bedroom door behind you, his hands are on you immediately, gripping your hips and pulling your body against his. Breasts pressing against his chest, you tug at his bottom lip with your teeth as your hands move to unfasten his pants eagerly. He groans into your mouth when you drag his zipper down, hand stroking him through his boxers. You push his pants down his hips easily and he pulls away to kick them away, eyes lifting to yours again.

He’s grinning a bit, and his hand comes up to cup your jaw, guiding your mouth back to his. His arm loops around your waist, keeping you close as he walks you toward his bed, patience clearly dwindling. When the back of your thighs hits the mattress, Jeff kisses your shoulder after pulling back, reaching for the drawer of his nightstand for a condom.

You sit on the edge of the bed, leaning back with your weight resting on your hands as you watch him. He glances at you over the shoulder, shaking his head quickly, and your eyebrows raise in confusion.

“Turn over for me,” he tells you, sending heat down your spine. You move quickly, feeling how slick you are as you shift, knees and elbows pressing into the bed.

You don’t realize how close he is, because when Jeff’s hand settles low on your back, you jump slightly, both of you laughing a second later. His hand moves up your spine slowly and you shiver, already pressing back toward him.

“I could get used to this view, sweetheart,” he murmurs, sliding down his hips and opening the condom. The words make heat rise up your neck despite the goosebumps rise along your skin.

Biting your lip, you glance back at him quickly and he has the audacity to smirk at you before smacking your ass firmly to make you yelp in surprise, the noise fading into a moan. Given your reaction, he does it again, as your head drops and you rock back toward him with an impatient sound.

“Fuck, Jeff, c’mon,” you mutter, teeth clenched as you feel your clit throb.

“So goddamn needy, huh, y/n?” he responds, pulling you closer to the edge of the mattress. You glance back at him, licking your lips as you see him roll the condom on his length. You’re so desperate for him by then that the sight of his cock is almost enough to make your mouth water.

About to make another impatient noise, you feel his hand grip your hip as he starts to drag the head of his cock along your folds. A shiver runs down your spine again, and you moan as you rest more weight on your elbows to pop your hips a little higher for him. The display of eagerness makes him chuckle softly, positioning himself at your entrance and using the hand on your hip to pull you back onto his length.

A string of curses leaves you as your head falls forward, a high sound getting trapped in your throat as he fills you. Your grip on the sheet tightens, and you breathe his name, already trying to press back toward him more. His hand soothes over your back gently, calloused fingers moving over the bumps of your spine, and you can feel your pussy throbbing around his cock as you wait for him to move more.

“Jeff, please,” you murmur, eyes falling shut as he grips your hips with both hands.

“Please what, baby?” he asks, the cockiness in his voice making you want to scream.

“Shit, want you to fuck me,” you respond, voice low as he thumb brushes over your skin lightly.

He hasn’t taken you like this before, you realize, and you’re not used to not being able to touch him, kiss him, or pull at his hair. That lack of contact seems to be making you extra needy as you grind back against him as hard as you can. That earns a curse out of him and he sighs easily, rutting against you enough that his cock drags over your g-spot to make you moan.

You shift slightly so your chest is pressing against bed and he repeats the motion, harder this time. The new angle is exponentially better, and you push your hair out of your face, mouth dry from how heavily you’ve been breathing. He’s settling into a rhythm, but it’s not nearly enough for you, not yet, and you rock back to meet his hips roughly. Groaning his name, you twist the sheets beneath you, your skin feeling absolutely electrified as his hand moves over your back slowly.

He has a way of making you feel so stunning, just from how he always takes the time to savor you like this. It had taken a while to get used to, not to feel the need to cover yourself when he acted like you were the most perfect thing in the world.

“Harder, Jeff, please,” you whine as your cunt tightens around him. It’s like you can feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he sinks into you, each movement slick and leaving you desperate for more.

His response is to grunt, slapping your ass harder than before and your clit throbs for attention. Another curse leaves you, and he does as you’d requested, hand returning to your hips to start pounding into you. You’re absolutely soaked, you can feel it, hear it even, and you’re so focused on trying to catch your breath that when he spanks you again, you cry out in surprise.

“You feel so fucking good, baby, and you look incredible, taking my cock like this,” he tells you, humming under his breath a second later. You nod as best as you can, face half pressed into the mattress in an effort to quiet the constant moans that were leaving you.

He felt so much thicker in this position, and with your hips popped up like this, he was hitting all the right spots that had you teetering on the edge of an orgasm all over again. You’re grateful for his firm hold on your hips, because you’re not sure you’d be able to keep yourself upright otherwise.

Your body is tense, knowing you’re toeing the edge now and damn near desperate for it, your pussy squeezing tight around him. Shifting your weight slightly, you move one hand to settle between your thighs to give your clit the attention it’s aching for. Jeff makes a sound approval, groaning as he adjusts his hold on your hips as your eyes roll back.

“Mmph, god, Jeff,” you breathe, gasping out a curse a second later. Your toes curl as you cum, eyes squeezing shut as you all but sob into the mattress.

Jeff fucks you through it, hard, still squeezing your hips tightly to keep you in place despite your efforts to grind back against him for more friction. His thrusts seem almost targeted, hitting your g-spot with each motion and you’re practically slumped against the sheets as you babble out his name, nearly incoherently.

Still rubbing rough circles against your clit, your hand is suddenly drenched and Jeff curses behind you, his rhythm faltering slightly. You’re still gripping the comforter like your life depends on it, hips starting to ache from holding the position for so long, but fuck, it just feels too good to even attempt moving. You know he has to be close, the dropped rhythm always so telltale, and you’re panting his name with a throaty groan.

Your head is buzzing by the time you’re able to tell which way is up, forehead pressed to the mattress as you try to catch your breath. You’re less dazed then and pressing back toward Jeff as he slides a hand higher on your waist, his short nails grazing over your skin.

“Want you to cum for me, baby,” you murmur, voice low. When you push your hair back out of your face, your hairline is damp with sweat, your body hot.

He groans and squeezes your waist, your name leaving his lips as slams into you again before grinding hard against you. A slew of curses leaves him as he cums, your clit throbbing from hearing how wrecked he sounds. You rock back toward him to savor feeling off him coming undone for you, groaning as your pussy tightens around him. He’s breathing heavily, his hold on you loosening as you grin to yourself lazily, feeling satisfied as he pulls out.

“Shit, y/n,” Jeff says, sounding exhausted as he taps your ass with a chuckle before stepping away. You laugh with him easily, grinning as you let yourself fall onto your side, the muscles of your hips feeling sore for holding the position for so long.

Stretching out along the bed, you watch Jeff move about, removing the condom before putting it in the bin next to his nightstand. He glances at you, eyes taking in your naked frame as if you hadn’t been naked this whole time, and he’s smirking like he’s proud of himself. You scoff lightly, amused, and nudge at his thigh with your foot, feeling dampness against your calf where it rested on the edge of the bed.

“Shit, why is the blanket wet?” you ask, yawning as Jeff opens a drawer of his dresser to grab clothes.

“Uh, I think you squirted,” Jeff responds, glancing over his shoulder at you. He looks quite smug and you raise your eyebrows. “You want leggings?”

“Huh. Well, that’s new,” you say before nodding in response to his questions. Jeff tosses you a pair of leggings as well as panties from the drawer that had turned into yours. A shirt of his comes next and you grin at the fact that he’d done it automatically.

Finally confident that your legs will work, you stand to get dressed, and by the time you’re pulling your shirt on, Jeff is settling into bed. With a tired sigh, you join him, getting cozy between the sheets and he quickly moves to hold you, pressing his face into your chest.

Your hand comes up to push through his slightly damp curls and you grin contently as he nuzzles into you. He lifts his head a second grinning up at you then pressing a kiss to your mouth.

“I love you,” you murmur, kissing him again.

“Love you too, baby,” he says, stifling a yawn and settling his head on your shoulder.

You’re still playing with his hair with one hand as you reach for your phone that you’d left on the nightstand earlier, making sure you’d remembered to set alarms for the morning. “It’s only 11, did you want to watch something before bed?” you ask, kissing his forehead before yawning yourself.

“You can put something on if you want, but I can’t guarantee I’ll stay awake for more than 20 minutes,” he tells you, already sounding quite sleepy. You nod, chuckling as you pull away enough to turn off the lamp on the nightstand.

The two of you end up staying awake longer than expected, curled up together and talking quietly in the dark. He’s warm and familiar, head still settled on your shoulder with his arm around your waist securely. It seemed like that was his favorite way to sleep and you surely didn’t mind, toying with his hair idly.

You made plans to grab breakfast in the morning, and you fell asleep thinking about breakfast pastries and the sweet man you’re curled up with.

#jeff skinner imagine #jeff skinner smut #buffalo sabres imagine #bybtm #**#Idk how I even used to tag these???

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

nobody knows where we might end up, chapter seventeen (branjie) - holtzmanns

(read on ao3) | (tumblr: plastiquetiaras) | word count: 5317

AN: thank you so, so much for all the continued love on this fic. it makes me so happy and my heart so full. writ is a wonderful beta <3

(then)

“We’re thinking of staying late tomorrow after Respirology to practice for the bellringers. You in?”

Brooke shrugs at Steve’s question. “Sure.” It’s not like there’s anywhere else that she has to be, anyway.

“Sweet. We need your genius brain.”

“I’m not a genius-”

“Yeah Steve, she’s not a genius. She tried to push a ‘pull’ door like, half an hour ago.” Jon snorts.

“Hey.” Brooke swats Jon’s side, sticking her tongue out at both Steve and John when they start snickering. “Sometimes doors are hard.”

It only makes sense that Brooke’s naturally gravitated towards the other gays in her class. It’s nice, not having to hide anything around them. Not that she really has much to hide in the first place.

“Bring Vanessa this time. You never shut up about her, I wanna meet her.”

Steve’s question makes Brooke bite her lip. She’s been telling the two of them that Vanessa’s been too busy to actually come to any of their sessions, to ever double date. Except the truth is that she hasn’t even asked Vanessa in the first place.

Brooke doesn’t know what’s stopping her, really. It would be nice for her girlfriend to meet some of her med school friends.

Except her and Vanessa have been…weird. Brooke doesn’t want to bring up med school things because she can see the light dim behind Vanessa’s eyes every time that she does, a reminder that Vanessa didn’t get in while she did.

So maybe, it’s just better to ignore everything. Not talk about it. Walk on eggshells.

How hard will it be to do until the end of med school, anyway? At least until Vanessa gets in somewhere next year.

God, Brooke hopes that Vanessa gets in somewhere next year. For her own sanity, more than anything else.

“She’s real busy with fourth year. They’re having midterms right now.” Brooke’s not sure if Vanessa actually has midterms at the moment, but the timing lines up from when she herself was in undergrad. It’s not like she’s going to ask Vanessa, either.

“Okay, after then. Are the two of you the type of nauseatingly gay couple that can’t keep their hands off each other?” Steve punctuates his question by wrapping an arm around Jon and pulling him close by his neck, making him scowl.

“Get off me-“

“Never.” Steve leans over to ruffle Jon’s hair, making him immediately protest, muttering under his breath.

Brooke has to hold back a laugh. Jon and Steve are the boy equivalent of watching two Detoxes interact with each other. She loves the sight.

“Nah, we’re not like that. No overt sappiness.” It’s not a lie, not really. Her and Vanessa aren’t overly nauseating anymore.

So what if they used to be the couple that would make all of their friends pretend to fake barf from how soft they were with each other? They’re not the Brooke and Vanessa that they used to be. Brooke’s not quite sure who she has to blame for that.

Maybe herself, a little bit. For snapping at Vanessa the other day for being so bitchy and short with her when she hadn’t even done anything, for treating her like shit. But then she had also brushed off Vanessa’s worries about one of her fourth year courses, forgetting to help her with the assignment she was stuck on because someone in her class had thrown a party to celebrate finishing their first set of assignments. So what if Vanessa had already been asleep by the time she had come back?

Maybe they’re both to blame.

But it’s fine, they’ll be fine. They’ve been fine for three years and counting, and they’ll continue to be so.

Right?

“And here I thought lesbians moved in and got married after knowing each other for like, 48 hours. Breaking stereotypes and all that, huh?” Steve raises an eyebrow as he flips through the textbook in front of him, ignoring the way that Jon is poking his side for the fun of it.

Brooke snorts. “To be fair, we did move in together after first year of undergrad, but that’s only because we were both moving out of dorms.”

Steve gives her a look. “And?”

“And maybe we wanted to live together. God.” Brooke rolls her eyes when Steve points a finger towards her.

“Aha! Do you two have a hoard of cats, too?”

“Yeah, we have two-”

“So you two really are stereotypical lesbians. How wholesome.” Jon pretends to place a hand over his heart.

“Insufferable, the both of you.” Brooke can’t help her grin, though. Her friends may be stupid, but she loves them.

Brooke almost doesn’t want to go home when they finish off their study session in the library, the setting sun mirroring the feeling of dread that’s beginning to take over her chest.

Riley lets out happy yips when she unlocks the door, nearly falling over from how hard his tail is wagging. She rubs his belly, giggling as he rolls over.

“Hey.” Brooke calls out to their apartment. She’s not sure if Vanessa’s home or not. Truth be told, she hasn’t really looked at Vanessa’s schedule enough for this semester to know it well.

“Hey.” Vanessa’s voice is distracted as she types away on her computer while sitting at the kitchen table.

Brooke walks over to her, placing a kiss onto the top of her head out of habit and ignoring the way that Vanessa doesn’t turn around to face her and grin, the way that she always used to. It doesn’t matter, really.

“How was class?”

“Okay.” Brooke pulls out a plate from the cupboard, intent on pulling out leftovers. “Had a guest speaker. Some guy talking about patient safety.”

Brooke doesn’t elaborate much. It’s not like Vanessa’s going to care, anyway.

“You?” Brooke keeps it light, as light as she can, as if it’ll keep the delicate glass that’s built up between them from shattering and slicing them both.

“Still working on applications. Finished all my essays.”

“I thought you’d finished them all last week.” Brooke tilts her head, and can feel her brows furrowing because she remembers Vanessa’s whoop of delight and the way she had closed Microsoft Word with a flourish.

“I, uh. Applied to some more.” Vanessa doesn’t look up, keeps her eyes on her screen, though Brooke can see how she’s fidgeting.

“But there’s only a few in Ontario-”

“Outside of Ontario. Outside of Canada, actually.” Vanessa looks up at Brooke then, her expression one almost of challenge, of asking Brooke to protest what she’s said.

Brooke doesn’t want to take the bait, but she can’t help it. “Where outside of Canada?”

Outside of Canada would mean that Vanessa wouldn’t be nearby. But maybe Vanessa’s applied to schools near the border, ones that are driving distance and so they really wouldn’t be too long distance-

“California. LA.” Vanessa fiddles with her watch. “Got a cousin that lives there, finished school there. Big doc there. So I have an in.”

“Oh.” Brooke doesn’t know what else to say. California? Would Vanessa really go all the way to California?

“It’s just a backup.” Vanessa turns back towards her computer. “In case the schools here don’t work out. I’m not sitting out for another year again and falling even more behind.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Brooke can’t even deny it, because it does. Hell, if she hadn’t gotten in on the first try, she’d be exhausting all of her own resources, too.

But California.

Not only on the opposite coast, but in an entirely different country.

Vanessa wouldn’t go there unless she absolutely had to, would she?

Though what would really change? Things have been so off between them, Brooke doesn’t even feel like she can properly look Vanessa in the eye. Or hug her. Or kiss her or pull her close.

Hell, the last time they had sex was weeks ago and even that was after a particularly big argument.

Steve and Jon had teased her about the hickeys on her neck for weeks.

But Brooke doesn’t want that kind of sex, not right now. She wants things to just feel normal again.

Except that she can’t help the way that she heads off to bed without even waiting for Vanessa, tucking in early because she has a class the next morning.

Brooke doesn’t want to deal with all of the unsaid words that have built up between them. It’s gotten too fucking messy.

Maybe things will just fix themselves up on their own if she waits long enough.

Brooke’s tentatively excited when Vanessa suggests a movie night one breakfast over waffles.

“Maybe we can both take a break from our work?”

“I’d like that.” Brooke can’t help the smile on her face that builds, no matter how hard she tries to temper it down.

Maybe just spending some time together will make things okay again.

Except then later in the day her Endocrinology professor holds extra office hours to prepare them for the midterm, for which the line ends up being incredibly long, and then of course she strikes up a conversation while waiting with one of her classmates about the recent readings because the subject’s just so interesting, a conversation that continues once they leave the office. And then she’s forgotten about everything else, really, when Steve texts her and asks if she wants to join him and some of their classmates for a bite at the new burrito place, the one she’s been excited about trying. And by the time she gets home it’s nearly 10:00, and she’s forgotten all about the movie night that she and Vanessa had planned - a fact that hits her with horror as she opens the door to their apartment, the realization washing over her.

“Shit.” Brooke whispers it under her breath because there’s a pile of blankets by the couch, an untouched bowl of popcorn and she’s stupid, real stupid, because how on earth did she forget?

Vanessa’s not on the couch, either. Nor is she in the kitchen, or in any of the open spaces of their apartment. The door to their bedroom is closed and the sight makes Brooke wince.

Brooke drops her jacket and backpack on the floor without a second thought, pushing their bedroom door open and Vanessa’s there, leaning against the headboard of the bed and her eyes are wide.

“Where have you been?” Vanessa’s voice quivers and Brooke can hear the hurt in it and it makes her heart feel ever so slightly heavier, pulling her down.

“Sorry Ness, I-” Brooke pauses. “I got distracted. Things were happening with office hours and people in class and I lost track of time.”

It feels flimsy, despite being the truth.

“I got class in the morning, so it’s too late to watch anything now. Not that you probably even want to.” Vanessa’s face is buried in her book again and suddenly they’re back to their avoidance of eye contact and it makes Brooke grit her teeth.

“I said sorry, okay?” It’s not Brooke’s fault that things got busy. That’s just how med school is, something that Vanessa wouldn’t know.

“Real fucking sincere.” Vanessa huffs. “Look, if you don’t wanna spend time together, at least have the decency to not stand me up. I cancelled plans for this.”

Brooke pauses at that. “What plans?”

“Why do you even care?” Vanessa spits out the words and Brooke can see the fire in her eyes and somehow it doesn’t have the effect of lighting her up, but rather, cools down her insides instead. “You clearly have more important shit to worry about.”

“Next time I’ll put a reminder in my phone, okay? I promise I won’t miss it.”

“Fuck that.” Vanessa’s arms are crossed, as if she’s steeling herself, protecting her heart from anything and everyone. From Brooke. “If something ain’t important enough for you to remember on your own? There won’t be a next time.”

Brooke rubs at her temples because she doesn’t want to do this, not now, and so what if she’d forgotten? “Listen, med school is fucking busy. All I do is study and work and revise and my brain can’t remember anything.”

Vanessa leans forward, putting her book down and it nearly makes Brooke take a step back. “All you do is-you think I don’t work my ass off, either?”

“I didn’t say that-”

“You have no idea, do you?” Vanessa’s eyes narrow. “Just ‘cause I’m still in fourth year doesn’t mean that I’m not doing shit. I’m taking five and a half credits and still volunteering, still working in the lab, and on top of that applying again for all these stupid med school programs that probably won’t even accept me, anyway. So, yeah. Miss me with that bullshit. If I can at least still try to make an effort, so can you.”

Brooke can feel tendrils wrapped in anxiety and stress worm their way around her heart, because this isn’t what tonight was supposed to be like at all. “I-”

“Fuck it. I don’t care.” Vanessa puts her book on her bedside table, scoots down in their bed until she’s lying down and under the covers. “Go study with your friends, I don’t care.”

The hollowness in Brooke’s chest as she tries to fall asleep that night is only amplified by the hurt that she had heard in Vanessa’s voice, the sound still lingering in her mind hours and hours later.

(now)

Brooke misses Vanessa.

It isn’t either of their faults, really. Both the neuro and cardiac surgical units are starting to pick up, the surgeons working overtime to balance all of the regular scheduled procedures with the influx of emergency ones.

Brooke feels like she’s been run ragged, to say the least. She’s been on call for most of the hours that she hasn’t been working this week, catching hours of sleep wherever she can while still attempting to get all of her documentation done.

Weeks like these make Brooke feel like a firefighter, one who tries to put out flames only for three more to rise in their place. Brooke normally thrives in such environments - having to think on her feet, having to triage her cases so that the most urgent ones are dealt with first, functioning and doing brain surgery on approximately two hours of sleep.

No one’s ever said that the lifestyle of surgeon is easy. Though the paycheck does make it better.

VM: got scheduled for 2 ablations, 2 valve replacements, and 1 ventricle repair. Never done so many procedures in one shift in my LIFE

Brooke looks at the text and smiles, the way her face always has a tendency to do so whenever Vanessa’s name pops up. She’s glad, in a way; that it’s not just her. That Vanessa is equally busy over on her unit.

Brooke’s found that it’s difficult for those who aren’t in the medical field to understand the crazy hours, the topsy turvy schedules, where it’s possible to have long stretches of free time followed immediately by a slammed schedule with procedure after procedure and multiple on call shifts in a row. It makes it hard to plan, sometimes, to commit. She’s used it as an excuse more than once when breaking off flings in the past.

But it’s not like that with Vanessa. It’s doesn’t have to be, when Vanessa gets it, when Vanessa is going through the same thing as her.

Plus, she doesn’t actually want to break things off with Vanessa.

Not that they’re a thing.

Are they a thing?

Brooke doesn’t know.

All she knows is that she’s missing her throughout this busy period.

BLH: So many in one day! You superstar.

VM: fully taking a bow rn

VM: how’s ur day been??

BLH: Equally slammed. I’m about to fall asleep at my desk lol.

VM: nap on the clock, I support it

VM: I miss you :((

The text makes Brooke suck in a breath. She hasn’t wanted to be the clingy one, the pushy one, the one to scare Vanessa away with how much she still cares. But the text feels like an anchor, one that helps to hold her heart in place and calm it down and keep it in reach of her favourite person.

BLH: Fuck, Ness. I miss you too.

VVM: gay

BLH: I’ve literally had my face in between your legs more times than either of us can count.

VVM: g a y

VVM: but same. our schedules need to calm tf down so I can see ur cute face before I forget what u look like completely

VVM: that’s a lie I could never forget u

BLH: Gay.

VVM: HEY

Brooke lets out a little laugh, glad that she’s alone in her office. She needs to focus on her documentation, get all of her surgical reports dictated and out of the way but trying to focus feels absolutely impossible. Especially when talking to Vanessa is so much more fun.

It’s a couple more days before Brooke has the chance to see Vanessa in person again, before their schedules calm down enough to let either of them think about something other than work for a change.

Brooke is the one who suggests it when Vanessa drops by her office at the end of their shifts, pressing a kiss on her lips.

“You busy this evening?”

“No. Why?” Vanessa tilts her head with the most adorably curious expression, and it takes everything in Brooke to not pull her close and kiss her again.

“We’ve been working hard-”

“Working our asses off-”

“-and we deserve a break, that’s all.” Brooke grins.

“What are you suggesting?” Vanessa takes a step closer, wrapping her arms around Brooke’s waist, and Brooke can already feel the heat that’s emanating between them.

“Come over?”

“Ooh, Dr. Hytes, what a proposition-”

“Shush.” Brooke shoves her lightly, but can’t help but laugh when Vanessa lets out a cackle. “Not like that. Well, maybe like that, but also just to chill out, y’know? We both deserve it.”

“I’d be down for that.” Vanessa’s beginning to look excited by the idea. “We could order in and just watch some shit and veg out.”

“Exactly. Especially because our surgery is tomorrow. We can rest up.” Their joint surgery has creeped up on the two of them faster than Brooke’s expected. She’s excited to get the chance to properly work with Vanessa, after such a long period of planning and preparation. To get the chance to see how they function together in an operating room setting.

“Would this be considered a team bonding activity?” Vanessa asks the question as they tug on their coats, picking up their bags.

Brooke raises an eyebrow. “We’re the only two members from our surgical team that are taking part.”

“Good. That’s how I like it.” Vanessa leans up to press a kiss to Brooke’s cheek. “Now come on, are you gonna take me home or not?”

Brooke falls into step with Vanessa as they leave the neuro offices, walking towards the exit when Vanessa pauses. “Shit, my wallet’s still in my office. I’d taken it out to buy lunch. Mind if we loop back before leaving?”

Brooke can’t help her curiosity as they walk through the section of cardiac offices. “I never really noticed that the cardiac offices have red accent walls.”

Vanessa snorts. “Feels a little on the nose, huh? I guess they wanted to keep up with the heart and blood theme. Kinda nasty.”

“Makes for a cool look, though. Better than our boring grey walls in neuro.” Brooke runs her hand along the wall as Vanessa unlocks her office, grabbing her wallet from the desk.

“They should have given you pink accent walls for the colour of the brain.” Vanessa locks her office up again, and Brooke can’t help but interject.

“Actually, the brain isn’t really pink, it looks like that with the blood but it’s actually an off white colour-”

Vanessa gives her a look. “Really?”

Brooke smiles sheepishly. “You knew that, didn’t you?”

“We both went to medical school, you dolt.” Vanessa links her arm through Brooke’s as they head back down the hallway, before they’re interrupted by an excited noise in an adjoining office.

“Aha!”

“What in the hell-”

Vanessa’s words are cut off when Asia slides over from her office to the hallway while still in her desk chair, pointing between the two of them.

“Now what’s going on here? ” Asia’s smile on her face is absolutely delighted as she glances at their linked arms.

“What, two people can’t walk arm in arm?” Vanessa wastes no time in responding, and Brooke’s glad for it, really, because she doesn’t exactly know what to say to Asia on the subject.

“Not when the two of you have personally caused me inner ear damage from how much you used to yell at each other. So this is quite a change.” Asia leans back on her chair, crossing her legs.

Vanessa snorts. “You look absolutely ridiculous sitting on that chair in the hallway.”

“Don’t deflect. All I’m saying is that you two seem real close.”

“It’s nice, ain’t it?” Vanessa doesn’t give Asia a chance to respond, grabbing Brooke’s hand and tugging on it before breaking out into a run and yelling down the hallway. “We’re out, bye!”

They run towards the parking lot in a fit of giggles, neither of them able to contain their laughter.

“Asia’s so gonna be on my ass about that tomorrow. Worth it.” Vanessa bends over to catch her breath, grinning up at Brooke. “So, your place?”

Brooke’s struck by the ease at which Vanessa snuggles into her side after she puts their empty takeout containers on the coffee table. As if it’s the most natural action in the world, as if they never went through years and years apart from one another.

They still haven’t talked about it, about what they are, what they’re doing, but Brooke doesn’t want to be the one to ruin the spell that’s been cast between them. She likes spending time with Vanessa, and what if Vanessa has second thoughts if they talk about it and says that she doesn’t want to do…whatever it is that they’re doing anymore?

So, she’ll take Vanessa snuggling into her side, especially if she gets to wrap an arm around her, hear her let out a content little noise, one that Brooke’s sure she’d never tire of even if she heard it a hundred times.

An episode of Schitt’s Creek is playing on the TV, one that Brooke’s seen before and she’s not paying attention, preferring to focus on Vanessa’s reactions and giggles as she watches for the first time.

“I’m gonna start saying ‘ew, Asia’ to Asia the way Alexis always says ‘ew, David’. Imagine her reaction.” Vanessa lets out a snicker. “She’d beat my ass for sure.”

Brooke snorts. “I swear, your cardiac team looks like it’s all mayhem, all the time. You included.”

“Oh, completely. Though is the neuro team any better?”

Brooke pauses. “Not in the least, actually. They’re all insane. Seems like chaos is a prerequisite to ever be able to make it to a hospital job.”

“You got that right. Speaking of,” Vanessa sits up a little so she can face Brooke, “how are you feeling about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Brooke’s been trying not to think about it much, really. Surgeries don’t usually intimidate her. She can handle when complications arise, because she manages to keep complete control of the operating room and of the patient in front of her. Most of the time, anyway.

There’s something about doing a surgery with Vanessa, though, that’s making her more nervous. Biting her lip, fiddling with her hands all evening kind of nervous.

Brooke thinks that Vanessa might have noticed.

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

“It’s going to be fine.” Brooke shrugs. “It’s going to be fine, right?”

At least, that’s what Brooke’s trying to convince herself of. She’s had complex patients before, ones where she’s had to work with surgeons from other disciplines, but something about working with Vanessa, working as a team, makes her nervous.

What if she lets Vanessa down?

“I see your head already zooming at a million miles an hour. It’s going to be absolutely fine, and you know that. I know you do.” Vanessa’s looking at Brooke like she believes the words coming out of her mouth, and Brooke desperately wants to believe them too. “Remember when I shadowed one of your surgeries when I first moved back here?”

Brooke’s not sure where she’s going with it. “Yeah?”

“Didn’t want to tell you back then, ‘cause you were acting like one cocky son of a bitch, but you were good. Real good. As in textbook good, even better than good type of good. You had everyone on your team working under you like a machine, you handled shit happening in the surgery like a goddamn champ.” Vanessa grabs her hand, squeezes it, and the pressure is grounding, somehow. “You got this. Take it from someone who’s already seen you in action. And you know my ass can’t lie to save my life, so I ain’t making this shit up, either. I don’t want you to start spiralling about shit that may not even happen tomorrow.”

“How did you know I was-”

“I know you, babe.” Vanessa smiles softly. “I know when you start overthinking. Also ‘cause your grip around me suddenly got all rigid.”

Brooke snorts. “That’s more of an obvious cue, huh?”

“Maybe.” Vanessa smiles and leans over, pressing a kiss to her lips. “Now let’s just think about how great we’ll be tomorrow.”

Brooke deepens the kiss because she can’t help herself and sure, they’ve both been tired and overworked but she hasn’t properly kissed Vanessa since that day in her office, and now that she has the chance, she’s going to take it. Brooke hadn’t been the one to initiate another, not wanting to overstep. But now that Vanessa’s here, in her arms, in her apartment? She’s going to take it.

Vanessa gasps into the kiss though follows suit, wrapping her arms around Brooke’s neck, and she feels like a ball of energy, a ball of light in Brooke’s arms. One that’s so responsive, one that wastes no time in straddling Brooke, trying to close the already miniscule distance that exists between them.

It’s too much all at once but Brooke just wants more and more, more of Vanessa because there’s no way she can ever get enough. It doesn’t matter that they’ve been sleeping together the last few months because right now it feels different - every touch just a little bit more electric, every kiss making her heart beat just a little bit faster.

It’s urgent, but not like their kisses in their offices, where they had been running out of time and were afraid of getting caught. No, this feels different. As if they have all the time they would ever need, and the urgency is to make sure that they make the most of every second, every moment, to make up for everything that they’ve missed. It’s a homecoming and a reckoning all at once.

Brooke grips underneath Vanessa’s thighs, standing them up and letting Vanessa wrap her legs around her waist tightly before walking them over to her bedroom. If they’re going to do this, then they’re going to do this right, because it’s not the same anymore. They’re not the same.

Brooke lays Vanessa down on the bed and the sight of her hair splayed around her head, eyes wide as her chest rises and falls with near gasps almost takes Brooke’s breath away. She leans down, presses kisses along Vanessa’s ribcage, feeling the way her breath hitches and it’s intoxicating, making her wish that she could just make Vanessa fall apart underneath her for a living.

Brooke brings her kisses up past Vanessa’s cleavage, her neck, along the curve of her jaw but then Vanessa pushes on her shoulder, flipping them over and suddenly Brooke’s the one flat on her back. Vanessa’s waves fall in front of her face, tickling Brooke’s shoulders and cheeks, little dots of starlight that light her up like the night sky. Vanessa takes a second to tie her hair back with the elastic on her wrist, before grabbing Brooke’s face with both of her hands and kissing her again and again and again, and it makes Brooke understand what it means to have the all the stars in the universe finally within her grasp.

Brooke almost wishes that she could pause this moment, right here. Commit it to a safe part of her brain to pull out when she’s feeling empty, alone, when there’s nothing left to push her to keep moving forward. Because this? Vanessa right here, right now, making her feel like she’s glowing from the inside out? Brooke feels like it could power her for days.

Vanessa presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth, pulling back to look at her and Brooke can see the softness, the adoration in her eyes, the slight shine that matches the way Brooke feels her own heart ready to burst.

There’s a part of Brooke that still nags, still plants a seed of doubt within her, thorns that fester within her bloodstream that tell her that this isn’t forever, that Vanessa’s going to leave. That this doesn’t matter the way that Brooke so desperately wants it to. But then Vanessa’s hands are soft on Brooke’s skin, unbuttoning her pants and helping her slide them off along with her panties, before crawling in between her legs and kissing up her thighs, the gentlest of touches that make Brooke cant into her for more, more, more.

Brooke’s already a mess, already coming undone because there’s something about Vanessa that always keeps her on the cusp of tipping over. Of jumping off of the cliff that Vanessa’s already gone over, because Brooke would follow her down if it meant that she could stay with her, spend more time with her. Not worrying about having to leave.

Vanessa’s kisses turn harder, deeper, making Brooke squirm and she knows she’s going to have marks on her thighs, ones left by Vanessa that only she’ll be able to see, ones that remind her of this. That Vanessa’s been here.

Brooke’s hands tighten their grip in Vanessa’s hair nonetheless, because the teasing is too much and she needs more, she needs her. Vanessa takes the hint because she’s in a giving mood, all pretenses of taking her time beginning to fade and Brooke’s nearly gone when Vanessa licks up her slit.

It amazes her still, how well Vanessa knows her body. Exactly how to get her to the edge because she still remembers, and it’s a strange sense of deja vu, though one that is heightened, everything just a little bit sharper than it used to be. Because Brooke feels everything so much more, and it scares her that she never, ever wants to lose it.

Vanessa tips Brooke over the edge when she sucks at her clit, curling her fingers upward deep inside her and it’s a marvel, really, that Brooke had ever thought that she could get over her. Could ever forget her. Vanessa presses a gentle kiss to the inside of Brooke’s thigh after she comes, pulling her fingers back, and Brooke can feel the way that the action holds so much more, tugs more on her heart than any other girl she’s been with, the way it makes it clear in her head.

Vanessa’s it, for her.

And the way that Vanessa’s looking at her, eyes full of adoration and an emotion that Brooke can’t quite decipher as she crawls back up the bed, makes Brooke think that maybe, just maybe, Vanessa gets it, too.

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #hospital au #lesbian au #holtzmanns #nobody knows where we might end up

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maximumkillshot · 5 years

Text

The Letter

Warnings: Some angst, Jealous!Dean, Sam’s just being Sam, Mentions of Hell and sexy times, nothing too bad, Pg-13 at best... not even really, FLUFFFFFFYYYYY

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Random Dude, Reader (Of course)

A/N: Hello all, I wasn’t able to post over the weekend, but hey! I’m doing it now!!! Enjoy everyone.. It’s FLUFFYY and as always.... GIFS AIN’T MINE!!

“All I Could Do” Masterlist- CLICK HERE

Overall Masterlist- Click Here

“When You Call” Masterlist- Click Here

“The Situation” Masterlist- Click Here

“C'mon Dean, you've gotta tell her at some point” scoffed Sammy as he saw Y/N walk out of the bar, some unknown guy in tow right behind her. Dean stared at the man as he left, sizing him up, trying to understand why he has these feelings for a friend that he's had since childhood.

“Tell her what exactly?” Dean turned to his brother, exasperated. “Oh hey Y/N, what’s up? Oh me? Nuthin much just having a bit of a dry spell because I can't stop thinking about you. Wasn't as bad when we didn't hunt together but now…. Pfft, now I can't even get it up without thinking about you…. She's never gonna see me like I see her, Sammy.”

“But you aren't even giving her the chance to see you like you see her…. C'mon it's better than sulking in every single bar she's in when she doesn't pick you up,” remarked Sam.

“Alright, fine… And how exactly do you expect me to approach this little talk, huh Sammy?” Dean groaned as he took the next shot of Jack with ease and motioned for another.

Sam thought for a bit and continued, “well, you sure as hell can't face her without chickening out.” Dean glared, “but, maybe you don't have to face her at all… or even talk to her for that matter.”

Dean looked at Sam and saw that gleam in his eye. That gleam that said ‘I am about to say something that you'll hate, but I know it'll work and you'll hate that it'll work which will only make this sweeter for me.’

“Out with it Fabio,” Dean commented, now snickering at his own wisecracks.

“Maybe you write to her?” Smiled Sammy...

Dean looked around and back to Sammy.

“What?” Asked Sam as he looked around, following Dean's gaze.

“I was just checking to see if we were in elementary school or not..” Said, Dean, as he sipped on his newly replenished fifth of whiskey, he hissed at the sting, “Yup! This ain't exactly apple juice and I see no children with pigtails so why in Chuck's name would I send a woman a letter when I LIVE WITH HER?!” Dean practically screamed.

“Well, are you going to talk to her on the phone?”

“No”

“FaceTime?”

“No”

“In person?”

“HELL NO”

“Then do you have any other ideas?” Questioned Sam as Dean stared at the Amber liquid in his glass, “Dean, it's the most detached way to let her know. And, if you're still too chicken, you could write it and burn it afterward…Either way, it's out of your head…”

At that moment a smoking hot blonde walked up to Dean and said: “Hi, stranger.”

Dean looked at her and said, “Hi” and turned back to Sam immediately, her advances immediately flying over his head at the moment.

The woman walked away mumbling about how the good looking men are either taken or gay and Sam's jaw was completely unhinged, staring from his brother to the blonde.

“What?” Questioned Dean.

“Oh no, we gotta fix you now… that girl was flirting with you!!” Said, Sam, as he pointed to the woman.

“Yeah, I know… it's annoying.”

Sam looked horrified, “Who are you and what have you done to my brother?”

“Oh c’mon it isn’t that bad...”

“Uhh yeah, yeah it is… c’mon, let’s go back to the motel…” said Sam as he slapped down two 20’s, officially closing the tab.

The next day Dean saw the dude saunter out of her motel room, hickeys all over his neck and what looked like scratch marks on his chest, as he didn’t even bother to button up his shirt. Dean was so lucky as to be working on Baby when he came out. He looked at the guy that looked like the cat that got the cream and he looked back to see Y/N, looking at him starry-eyed completely relaxed…

He traveled her form, nothing on but a stolen shirt from Dean, nonetheless… I mean who is Dean kidding, she begged for the shirt because it was so comfy and he caved, as he always did with her. It was just easier to tell himself she stole it. He looked at her legs that seemed so soft, so welcoming… By the time his eyes met hers again, she simply smiled and closed the door… almost taunting him….

Dean just walked around and leaned on Baby’s grill as he pretended to be messing with her engine… Little did he know Y/N was watching him too, hoping that he’d come to his senses since he was in her head the whole time that other guy was in her bed.

Dean gave her the cold shoulder the entire next day as they traveled home, nearing the end of the drive Y/N couldn’t take it anymore she said, “Dean, did I do something wrong?”

“No, why do you say that?”

“Well I mean I wasn’t exactly quiet with the guy I was with. You looked at me like you were pissed when he left my room so I figured I was too loud or something.”

“You were three rooms away, even if I did want to hear it, which I don’t, I wouldn’t be able to, Y/N.” He replied coldly.

“Then why did you stare daggers into me and looked at him like you wanted to kill him?”

No answer.

“Dean, you’ve been pushing me away and I don’t know why, then I have a little fun and you look at me like I am public enemy number 1. What did I do?”

“Nothing, just irritated, I guess.”

“How about I make you some pie when we get home, mixed berry?” She asked.

“I don’t want pie I want--” He snapped but his mouth slammed shut before he could say, “You.”

“What do you want? Whatever it is, name it, I hate that you aren’t talking to me… We were so close Dean… I miss it.” Y/N said, her heart near breaking.

He couldn’t even look into the rearview mirror without tearing, he’s never felt hurt by someone sleeping with someone else, especially if they weren’t exclusive. So why does he want to cry when he sees the love bites on her neck, it doesn’t make sense to him.

“I want to be left alone right now, Y/N.” Said Dean, his knuckles white from the pressure of gripping the steering wheel.

Sam tried to distract her by talking about her night out with the guy but… It just made things worse for Dean since he had to listen to Y/N talk about how much of a stud the guy she took home was. It made Dean’s blood boil. Every time she told him about how he ‘touched her in all the right places’ Dean couldn’t help but think that it should’ve been him holding her like he was. Worshipping her. It all should have been him, he should have been making her moan, he should have been feeling her creamy skin on his, he should have been there… not anyone else.

When they entered the bunker Dean made a B-Line for his room. Almost angrily Dean slammed his door and opened his laptop…

“This is so stupid…” He growled to himself as he opened up a blank document and began writing...

After about an hour of writing, Dean stared at the letter on his computer, trying to find a reason not to print it. He couldn’t find one so he decided to get some liquid courage from the liquor cabinet in the kitchen, when he got back Sam was hunched over Dean’s computer…

“DUDE! Privacy!” Dean whispered yelled.

“Dean... You’ve gotta send this, you have to man.” Said, Sam, as he pointed to the screen, “This… this is beautiful, she’d never hate you. You don’t see the way she looks at you. The way you look at each other.”

“What are you trying to get at, Sammy?” Dean asked as he sat down, drinking straight from the bottle.

“I am trying to say that only good can come from this… just do it.” Responded Sam.

Dean printed the message out and slipped it under Y/N’s door, hoping that the damage wasn’t permanent.

_________________________________________________________________________

Y/N’s POV

Ahhh why did I pack so much shit? That was the question in my mind as I sharpened and sheathed my fifth blade, six left to go. Then I heard something outside of the door.

“Sam, this is a bad idea” I heard Dean whisper

“Just shut up before she hears us!” Whisper-yelled Sam…

I huffed, if the boys were looking to hear anything weird, they would be sadly mistaken. Then I heard more rustling and a letter was slid under my door.

The first thing I thought was…. Glitter…. It has to be glitter, c’mon it’s an unmarked envelope that was randomly slid under my door. It had to be a prank…. The more I looked at it, the more curious I was.

I decided to pick it up and open it over my trashcan… All I found was a letter…

It said:

Okay so I’m only going to try this because Sam said to try it.

Y/N,

Help me, it’s not two words that I’m used to seeing and using together. I was trained to help others and to never ask for help in doing that. I never had those two words in my vocabulary. Which is why I was so shocked when I found that I needed help. I didn’t need help with ghouls or werewolves. I needed help being human again. To feel like I wasn’t a machine. To feel like I deserved to be loved. It was something that I didn’t even know that I needed until you came around.

It wasn’t something that happened all of a sudden, it wasn’t love at first sight. But it was definitely something. I actually started off being annoyed by you. Your endless optimism, your dorky smile. It put me off. Well, at least I thought it did. The more time I spent with you the more that I realized that you were different. You weren’t self-centered, you weren’t cold-hearted, you weren’t someone that could be fucked with. Someone to be thrown to the side, which made me love you even more.

That scared me. I’ve never loved someone like I love you. It’s too dangerous. It’s not fair to you to have to be worried about me constantly and to have to watch your back. It isn’t fair. So when you asked me why I was pushing you away the reason is that I have been madly in love with you and I don’t know what to do with it. So even if I don’t print this out and slide it under your door at least I can get it out.

It’s out there now, I actually feel a bit better. I still need you, and I miss being close too, I want to get closer. It’s so dangerous, Y/N. Even knowing us is a danger, being with me is a completely different level of danger, it’s a death sentence. I can’t do that to you, I love you too much. That doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt when you talk about other guys, it actually rips me apart inside. I think about how it could be me, not some other random guy.

Some other random guy doesn’t know that you need an extra pillow to prop your head up, they don’t know the stories behind your scars like I do, they don’t know that mean right hook that you have, or that infectious giggle you can’t control when you have too much whiskey, they don’t know you. I do… I know you, I know you hate being tickled and you hate it when someone assumes you aren’t strong simply because you’re a girl, I know you love extra ketchup on your cheeseburgers, and most of all I know you are worth more than a one night stand. You are damn sure worth more than the death sentence of being with me.

I couldn’t not tell you, Sammy says I need to give you the chance to choose… This isn’t a choice, this is just letting you know… I love you… I love you so much, I always have and I always will. I never know how to end these so I’ll just say… Don’t hate me, Sweetheart.

-Dean

As my eyes read the paper… my heart simultaneously swelled and shattered at the same time… Poor Dean… poor dumb Dean… How could he not see that I don’t care about the danger?

I’ve already died twice and I came back… I came back for him. Sam was the only one who knew. But this… This cements what I’ve always felt about him. For him to have written this. My heart is swelling.

That explains why he’s been distant, why he got tenser when I laughed, why he was angry with me.

I decided to finish unpacking and then talk to him about it.

___________________________________________________________________________

Dean’s POV:

“It’s been three hours, Sammy” I said trying to take a breath, “She hates me, I know she does.”

“She doesn’t hate you, she’s probably unpacking, Dean,” Quipped Sam.

He’s right she’s probably finishing everything that she needs to take care of before sh…. OH SHIT HERE SHE COMES.

“Shit, Sam. Act normal” I whispered.

Sam laughed as he commented, “I’m the one actually sitting at the library table, while you’re pacing back and forth like a psycho.”

“Hey Sammy, could we have the room?” Y/N asked her hands behind her.

Oh shit, here it comes. Here’s the ‘I only saw you like a brother’ talk that every guy talks about….

Maybe it’s worse, maybe it’s the ‘I don’t feel comfortable living with you if you have these feelings.’

I’m doomed, who sucked all of the air out of the room, why am I sweating? I need answers damn it!

“Sure,” Said Sam with a lore book in hand, “I’m just gonna grab this and finish it in my room.”

I wanna scream ‘Don’t you fuckin leave me here!’ but I can’t, oh shit she’s looking at me…

“Sooooo,” I said, nowhere near smooth.

“Soooo…. You okay? You look like you’re going to pass out,” she giggled.

“Well, kinda feel that way actually,” I answered honestly…

She sat down on the table in front of me and brought the letter out from behind her.

“Sooo, I got this letter…” She said almost shyly, “You really write this?”

“Ye-yeah I did.” I can’t get my voice to even out, why?

“It’s beautiful… like the guy who wrote it.” She smirked…

“Sweetheart, I’m ruggedly handsome at best… you… you’re the beautiful one.” I answered honestly.

“Well someone hasn’t seen themselves when they’re on an open road singing along to Led Zeppelin, that is a beautiful sight… The sun hits you just right, makes the green pop out of your eyes, all topped with a smile… that’s beautiful if I’ve ever seen it.” She said as she straightened out my flannel… I got closer to her, and she opened her legs to me, so I could be chest to chest with her.

“So I take it you don’t hate me?” I questioned cautiously…

“How could I hate the man I came back from Hell for… twice?” She giggled.

“Only in our line of work,” I chuckled…

“Only for one man…” She smiled up at me… “About damn time, Winchester… Here I thought I was gonna have to sacrifice myself a third time.”

“NONONONO please don’t… I love you too much… But this… it’s dangerous…” I said, immediate worry in my voice, I’m sure.

“Well it’s a good thing I’m more dangerous…” she chuckled.

“Y/N I’m serious”

“So am I, Dean. When I wasn’t with you I died… I’m dying either way… But I get to choose how I live… I want to live with you by my side… always.” She said as she cradled my cheek in her small hand… Trying to smother all of my worry. “Do you want that too?” she asked.

“Yes, more than anything…” I answered.

“Then kiss me.” She said.

Immediately… I kissed her.

As soon as I pulled away I said, “Oh I’m never letting go of you, am I?”

Her response was perfect…

“Nah, not like I’d want you to anyway, dork.”

WANT MORE? TELL ME SO!!!

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#SPN #spn fanfic #SPN FANDOM #SPN Family #dean x reader #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #ahh so fluffy #ITSSOFLUFFYIMGONNADIE

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sharkfish · 6 years

Note

Soooo, let's say hypothetically if I've started dabbling in the Sterek fandom, could you recommend some of your favorite fics? You've got excellent taste!

here i go here i go here i go girls what’s my weakness STILES AND DEREK! (*my brain just played me far more of that song than i thought i knew)

(i’m not really involved with the sterek fandom on tumblr so i don’t know most of these peep’s tumblr urls if they exist – plz tag in replies if you recognize anyone)

like 98% of these are E rated >:)

everything is in alphabetical order EXCEPT!!!!!!! this is very possibly my favorite fic of all time and i’ve read it a thousand times and will keep rereading it until the day i die!!!!

Love Runs Wild by DevilDoll (9.5k)

derek and stiles model for a softcore werewolf skin mag. basically, porn of stiles being all pretty and biteable and then a werewolf being all bitey, except of course derek and stiles shoot together A LOT, and when stiles shows up to a shoot with a hickey, derek LOSES HIS GODDAMN MIND (in the best way)

“You’ve got a hickey on the back of your neck!” A Neckz ‘n Throats story.

Alpha Complex by Hatteress (goddammitstacey) (3.4k)

oh, you’re interested in some subby bottom derek? let me tell you a little story….

“Hold still,” Stiles says, hand clamping down on the back of Derek’s neck to keep him from turning and it’s laughable, really – the thought that that would be enough to hold him. Except it is. Because Stiles’ fingers are gripping the nape of Derek’s neck, pressure sure and hard and Derek- Derek can’t fucking breathe.

Bravery is a Loaded Gun by LiviKate (17.3k)

this is a fic i go back to over and over when i just need to be punched in the heart. i’m a ho for stiles (stupidly!!!) thinking he’s somehow below derek’s level attraction-wise, and this has that in droves. it’s also about derek’s recovery from the sexual abuse he suffered with kate, in a way that i think is done with a (deservedly) delicate hand. (i’m holding myself in from going off on a [positive] tangent about the way fandom talks about derek’s abuse, but i have Thoughts.)

“No, I’m not asexual, Stiles,” Derek said shortly.

The teen’s heart sank in his chest, his palms going clammy and his neck prickling with the familiar feeling of rejection.

“So then it’s,” Stiles swallowed, throat clogging, unable to give voice to the facts he would much rather ignore. The silence grew between them, growing tense the longer it was left. For the first time in years, Stiles couldn’t speak. The weight of inadequacy held down his typical stream of useless banter. What does one say in this sort of situation? ‘I’m sorry you don’t find me attractive?’

Cornerstone by Vendelin for foreverblue_navy (83k)

this was the first sterek fic i loved and therefore the gateway drug. it’s so lovely in so many ways, AND ALSO, any time someone is like “k i’m only saying this cuz i’m your bff, not bc i have any sort of romantic inclinations or anything crazy, but i’d make the sacrifice to practice kissing with you, just to help you out”

Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart) by yodasyoyo (5.7k)

you know, i don’t read fics with kids (either them as kids or as parents) very often, but i’m kind of wondering why not, because i do love a good best friends from childhood to duh you morons lovers story. obviously this is a slightly different twist but the things i loved about it where the same sorts of feelings as that

Stiles is six years old when he first hears Derek’s voice in his head.

Or what happens if you have a soulmate bond, in a universe where soulmate bonds don’t exist?

Promise You’ll Look After Him by DiscontentedWinter (9.9k)

this is honestly one of the most powerful fics i’ve ever read. it’s the pov of stiles’s dad after stiles is sexually assaulted, so it fucking HURTS, but ultimately, it’s a story about profound love, both familial and romantic. (sorrynotsorry: sheriff stilinski is the father john winchester should’ve been.)

Sheriff Stilinski is used to dealing with victims of violent crime. He knows how to approach kids who’ve been beaten and sexually assaulted.

Except this time it’s his son.

It’s Stiles.

Sell Your Body to the Night by Dira Sudis (dsudis) (121k)

i can’t remember who on tumblr convinced me to read this? i remember someone telling me about it, and then emphasizing that the watersports tag is only for a single scene at the beginning of ch9 that is entirely skippable. i knew my stupid ass was going to read it anyway so mostly i was just afraid something was going to be awakened. IT WASN’T THANK GOD but this fic is so fucking incredible i don’t even care that derek paid like $5000 to pee on stiles. i can’t believe i just typed that sentence. THIS STORY HURTS A LOT!!!!!!! but then it feels better a lot

“No,” he repeated impatiently. “I’m not a cop. I’m someone who wants to exchange my money for your sexual services. I was told you were in that line of work.”

“I, uh, yeah, sorry,” Stiles said. He glanced around again and then up–the full moon was almost directly overhead. Just one of those nights, maybe. “Yeah, I am. I do that.”

Sour Kush by alisvolatpropiis (15k - series)

stonerstonerstonerstonerfic (there is a pt2, read it also)

Stiles mentally curses Erica, because in all of her warnings about how brusque this guy could be, she forgot mention that he’s also hotter than the fucking sun. If Stiles had any lingering questions about his sexuality, they’d be completely settled by what this guy is doing to him. In fact, he might not even be gay anymore. He might be in the midst of crossing into some yet-to-be-named sexuality that’s all about a scruffy black beard and alarming green eyes and muscles and tattoos and this guy’s everything ever.

The guy’s name is Derek, his lust-addled brain supplies distantly.

Well that settles it, then. Stiles is Dereksexual.

Sweeter Than Honey by the_painless_moustache (9.4k)

this is a fic that made me start thinking about what kind of non-sexual symptoms an omega might have during heat. stiles is a totally adorable disaster and derek is a totally adorable alpha trying to awkwardly court him. and none of their friends appreciate stiles like they should >:|

Stiles is probably the worst omega ever, which drives every one of his friends insane. Except for, surprisingly, Derek.

That’s Why He Lets Him In by alisvolatpropiis (12k - series)

this series is…. holy fuck. this is a stiles that was raised by sam and dean winchester as a hunter (just referenced, they don’t appear on screen). derek is a werewolf stiles let get away, and now they hate-fuck, except not really, bc they are desperately in love. it’s a little darker in tone but the writing is just – fuckin whoa.

Derek was about to rip Stiles’ throat out with his teeth and the crazy kid had just laughed, no trace of fear in his scent. He looked into Derek’s enraged eyes and smiled, welcoming his death.

That’s why he lets him in.

Trust Me by Areiton @areiton (4.8k)

in which a destiel & a sterek have a foursome. iirc, arei had written this (unbeknownst to be) like 2 days before i started obsessing about d2cs and wrote my fic mai tai. if i had known about this fic i probably wouldn’t have bothered writing my own xD

“What the hell are they doing here,” Stiles snaps.

“Do you trust me,” Derek asks, squeezing his hand and the tension and anger drains out of Stiles as he licks his lips.

You Were a Kindness When I Was a Stranger by DevilDoll (8k)

there is a specific sentence in this FANTASTIC bdsm fic that makes me run in circles screaming every time i even THINK about it omfg

“It’s not all handcuffs and spankings and learning to deep throat.” This is an AU with consensual BDSM sex acts, in which Derek supports Stiles financially in exchange for a sexual relationship. Stiles is of legal age.

Unsaid the Word by aerialiste @aerialiste (20.7k)

this is some Good Clean Academic AU Fun. i’ve read it multiple times and it’s a delight over and over.

Derek Hale, Stiles thought, indignant, was a goddamned scholiastic menace.

In which tenure-track Professor Derek Hale is polite and friendly to Stiles Stilinski, ABD, every year at the academic conference they both attend; and Stiles tries to be contented with pining after him—until after one night at a bar, far too many doubles, and some injudicious texting, thanks to his total inability to know when to stop talking, Stiles just may have ruined everything.

plzplzplzplz if you enjoy these fics, leave the author some comment & kudos love and share with your friends!!!

#starsinursa #sharkrecs #sterek #READ THEM #LOVE THEM #COMMENT THEM

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jennycalendar · 6 years

Text

the inherent complexity of falling in love

ao3

i am too tired to Title A Fic Properly but this is a good fic....i had fun...i just found it in my wip folder & added the last 3 sentences because i have had a tough day & i wanna put some fic out there! so!

soulmate au; technically falls between the two i’ve already written but works best as the third, chronologically. jenny struggles with new-relationship drama in a not-actually-soulmate context.

Generally, soulmates get married within a few months of meeting each other. Jenny’s best friend in college met her soulmate and threw her life plans out the window to go have a big, expensive wedding in the country with her family, her soulmate’s family, and pretty much every family that had ever existed. It’s not exactly a leap of faith—a soulmate marriage that hasn’t worked out is pretty much unheard of—but it’s still always seemed like a reckless, impulsive move to Jenny.

She’s thinking a lot about this as she moves the seventh box into the new house.

Rupert’s fussing with the stove in the kitchen when Jenny puts the box down on their table, and he looks up and gives her this sweet little sideways smile when he sees her. “This is a rubbish stove,” he says. “We might have to go appliance shopping, or, or maybe you can figure out some way to fix it up a bit, you’re practically a wizard with appliances—”

“It’s not that bad, you’re just picky,” Jenny informs him affectionately, crossing the room to kiss him. “There’s still a bunch of stuff in the truck, but I think the kids are getting some of it.”

“Make sure Willow doesn’t get to any of my grimoires,” Rupert warns her. “She seems to have expressed an interest in magic-using, and I’d prefer for her to discover it with proper instruction.”

“Got it,” Jenny agrees. “Also we totally need a new mattress, it kinda got broken in transit and I think we might have to sleep on the couch tonight.”

“I’d say romantic if I thought my back could take it,” says Rupert ruefully, turning back to the stove.

“Don’t electrocute yourself,” Jenny calls over her shoulder, exiting the kitchen and grinning at Buffy and Willow on her way out of the house again.

Sometimes Jenny has to wonder if Rupert could be the universe’s way of telling her that soulmates are real. She’s a little resentful about it, truth be told; she’s never been one for destiny, and she’s definitely not a big fan of people telling her what to do. But some things are too weird and unshakable to ignore, like the blood-red A on her wrist or the fact that Rupert’s the only other person she’s ever met who’s never going to have a soulmate.

Rupert could probably be her soulmate, all things considered, and they’re both sure as hell acting like he is. Jenny hasn’t once moved in with anyone she’s dating, let alone bought a house with them. An actual house, with two bedrooms and a sunlit kitchen and a cozy living room and all kinds of things that remind her she’s an adult in a committed relationship. The distance between her and her family has never loomed so large.

Jenny crosses the street to the moving truck, where Xander and Willow’s new friend Oz are having a conversation about music, and lifts up another box. “You two are taller than me,” she informs them both, “and I am a tiny computer science teacher, you should be lifting a few more boxes at least.”

“On it,” says Xander, jumping up and nearly knocking over Rupert’s fancy lamp (which seems to be in constant danger of breaking). Oz winces a little.

The box Jenny’s carrying is one of Rupert’s book boxes, meant for the extra bedroom that they’ll be converting into an at-home library. Something about that makes Jenny feel warm and fuzzy and excited; she’s not sure if she can count on spending the rest of her life with Rupert, but she’s starting to kind of want to, in a way that goes beyond matching marks and destiny.

There’s a sudden, sharp pain in her wrist. Jenny draws in a breath, nearly dropping the box of books. As it is, she has to shift it to her hip and place it down slowly, thinking that maybe the box cut her or something, but when she raises her wrist to her eyes, all she sees is a raw redness around her soulmate mark.

“Damn it,” she mutters. The first-aid kit is somewhere in the house or somewhere in a box, she can’t remember which one. Picking up the box again, she enters the house and nearly collides with a giggling Buffy. “Whoops! Sorry, sweetie.”

“No problem,” says Buffy breathlessly, “Willow and I were just—”

“Tag you’re it no tag-backs!” Willow shouts, shoving Buffy into Jenny and sprinting into the kitchen. Buffy shrieks indignantly and sprints after her girlfriend, nearly bowling over Rupert as he exits the kitchen.

Laughing, Jenny hurries to steady Rupert. “It’s a nice house,” he says weakly, pushing his glasses up his nose. “A bit small for the children to be running about in, but I suppose they can’t help being children about it.”

“We did invite them to help,” Jenny points out, grinning. “And you know the risks of letting Willow and Buffy run wild.”

“I’m of the mind that they’re all bad influences on each other,” Rupert grumbles, but at this point he’s just complaining for the sake of complaining, so Jenny nods sympathetically and steers him over to a chair. “You all right?” he adds as he sits, eyes flickering to the raw spot on Jenny’s wrist.

Jenny makes a face. “Box injury,” she says. “Moving’s hazardous. You don’t know where the first-aid kit is, do you?”

“I believe it’s in my car,” Rupert answers, “there’s always a spare in my car, and I’m of the mind that we should get you one of your own considering the town we live in, Jenny, I don’t want you getting hurt—”

His words are starting to run together with anxious sweetness, and the way he looks at Jenny is making her feel like she’s someone incredibly special, so she leans down over the chair and gives him a long, soft kiss, letting him pull her down onto his lap. “I’m gonna be fine, baby,” she whispers against his mouth.

“Don’t call me that, it is distastefully American,” Rupert mumbles happily, pulling her close.

“Oh my god you guys have to stop that,” comes Buffy’s voice from the doorway. Willow giggles and says something quietly to Buffy, to which Buffy loudly and indignantly responds, “I don’t care that it’s their house, we’re still here and it’s so gross!”

Jenny and Rupert break apart, not without reluctance. “You kids want dinner?” Jenny asks, clambering off Rupert’s lap. “I can order pizza, or we can all watch Rupert complain about the stove.”

“Ha ha,” says Rupert.

This is how I want to spend my life, Jenny thinks, trying out the realization. Another stinging pain shoots through her wrist. “Hey, I’m going to go out and get the first-aid kit from your car,” she tells Rupert, patting his shoulder as she passes, and throws a last smile over her shoulder at the well-lit living room.

A lot of gossip starts floating around the staff room a few days after Rupert and Jenny move in together, especially since it’s common knowledge that they aren’t soulmates. Most of the gossip is in relation to sex without protection and Jenny being pregnant and Rupert being too traditional to let Jenny raise the baby on her own. No one seems ready to consider that two people who aren’t soulmates might want to be together, and something about that makes Jenny frustrated and hurt.

Willow gets it. Willow gets it possibly a little bit more than Jenny, actually. “My mom lets Buffy sleep in my bedroom,” she’s saying, curled on the couch with her head tucked into Jenny’s side. “And—I know it’s a small thing, I know I should be happy that she doesn’t ask, but she doesn’t think to ask, you know? She walked in on us kissing once and she didn’t say anything, just handed me a few articles on how experimentation is normal at my age and that I shouldn’t be worried about turning gay.” She smiles a little bitterly. “Like it’s something for me to be worried about.”

Jenny squeezes Willow’s shoulder. “Willow,” she says, “if you ever stay over here, you and Buffy are staying in separate rooms. You are much too young to be having sex.”

Willow laughs, a wobbly noise that sounds like she wants to cry, and says with tentative playfulness, “But Ms. Calendar, I promise I’ll be responsible!”

“I was young once too, you know,” Jenny teasingly reprimands her, smoothing down Willow’s hair. “I know how these things are when you’re in love.”

Willow stills. Then she says, “Ms. Calendar—have you ever been in love?”

Jenny blinks. Feels her heart flutter. “Getting there,” she says, and it’s the truth.

The scrape from the box is bruising. Reddish-blue and raised, curving across the A in a way that makes it look like a different letter, maybe an R or a B. Jenny has been trying to ignore it, but when she knocks it against the edge of the bureau and curses like a sailor, Rupert all but drags her downstairs to put some ice on it.

“Good lord, Jenny, how do you do this to yourself,” he says reprovingly, his hands gentle on her wrist as he presses the ice pack against her bruise.

“This coming from the guy who gave me not one, not two, but five hickeys a few nights ago,” says Jenny, mouth quirking up.

“That’s different,” says Rupert, and though his attention stays focused on Jenny’s injury, the tips of his ears do go a bit red.

“If you say so,” says Jenny, and lets her free hand rest on Rupert’s knee, sliding up his thigh.

Rupert smiles, soft and slow, and lifts his head to kiss Jenny sweetly, pulling away to rest his forehead against hers. “You do need to be careful,” he says. “For my sake, at least.”

“It’s a damn scrape, Rupert,” says Jenny, half-laughing, “it’s not like that time when—” She stops herself.

Rupert’s smile fades a bit. “When we went down to fight the Master,” he says, “and he tossed you against a wall.”

Rupert had killed the Master, in the end, more panicked dumb luck than anything. Jenny had been pulling herself up, bruised and shaken, and he’d been trying to protect her as best he could, and somehow he’d tripped the Master and knocked him onto a nearby stalagmite (or stalactite? whichever one came up from the bottom of a cave) and the Master had dissolved into dust and bone.

Neither of them talk about how close they both came to dying down there, or how probable it would have been that their deaths might have led to Buffy investigating herself and dying at the hands of the Master. They seem to be in mutual agreement that it’s not what could have been that matters, but what is.

This is true, of course, but Jenny still wishes she had thought things through a little more before charging down into battle. Looking at Rupert makes her think they can move mountains; it frightens her. She changes the subject. “I think most of the teachers at school think I’m pregnant,” she says, a tentative laugh in her voice.

Rupert grins. “Did I miss a memo?” he teases, kissing her again. “Is there an impending Giles-Calendar I need to know about?”

“Calendar-Giles,” Jenny corrects, grinning when Rupert rolls his eyes, “and no.” She presses her hands to his chest, kissing his nose. “Just a lot of dumb office gossip.” She hesitates, then says, “It frustrates me a little that that’s what they jump to, you know? Like we’ve got to be soulmates or having a baby or something to have any semblance of a meaningful relationship.”

“We could have a baby,” Rupert says, mouth twitching. “Defy the stereotypes by subverting them and making them our choice.”

“Pretty sure a kid’s a bigger commitment than a tool with which to make a statement,” Jenny points out. “Probably doesn’t help that we live on a Hellmouth, either.”

“Maybe someday,” says Rupert.

That startles Jenny. “Someday?” she echoes.

Rupert’s smile flickers a little, and he looks uncharacteristically forthright when he says softly, “Being with you—it makes me want things like that.”

Jenny knows he’s not really talking about a baby. Rupert’s good with kids, but he’s said quite a few times that he doesn’t think he’s cut out to be a dad if it would mean focusing on his kid instead of his Slayer, and they both don’t want to talk about what might happen if Rupert ends up outliving Buffy. What he’s saying, in a roundabout sort of way, is that Jenny makes him want to be the sort of person who can choose his own destiny. Not just that—the sort of person who can choose her as his destiny.

And shit, that means a lot coming from him. More than Jenny had ever been expecting, really. “Hey,” she says, and stands up, taking his hands to pull him up with her. “You think we’d be each other’s destiny in a perfect kind of world?”

“I think you’re the sort of woman who doesn’t limit herself to just one destiny,” says Rupert, smiling a little, and kisses Jenny in that way that gets her weak in the knees; passionate if she wants it, tender the way she likes it. He pulls back, smile still lingering in an amazed, sentimental kind of way, and says, “Jenny, I think we’re falling in love.”

Jenny wakes up in the morning when Rupert’s still asleep and notices dark blue ink on the bedsheets next to her. Frowning, she pulls herself up to a sitting position and gasps softly when she inadvertently puts weight on her wrist. Raising her wrist to her eyes, she sees that it’s covered in that same inky substance; it’s got the same consistency as dried blood, and her wrist hurts like it’s been seriously injured, but unless Jenny’s missed some kind of weird supernatural memo, she doesn’t bleed ink the exact same color as Rupert’s favorite pen—

Wait.

Jenny races to the bathroom, heedless of waking up Rupert, and slams the door shut behind her, immediately turning on the faucet and scrubbing at her wrist. She grits her teeth through the pain—this ink is ridiculously difficult to get off—and ends up working at her wrist for a good few minutes before the caked-on ink finally begins to come off.

She knows what she’s going to see before it’s there, and feels a horrible, painful twist when she does. Badly stamped over the half-faded A, written in Rupert’s perfect cursive, is REG.

“You’re sure you’re all right?” Rupert asks at breakfast, frowning a bit. “It’s still August, Jenny, weren’t you talking about wearing that lovely sundress you got at the pier?”

“Fine,” says Jenny, “fine, I, I just felt like a change of clothing is all. Change of pace.” With a shaking hand, she draws her leather jacket closer around her.

“Jenny, you look thoroughly shaken,” Rupert says, sounding genuinely concerned. “Is everything—”

“Yeah,” says Jenny, taking a very long sip of her coffee until it burns her tongue. Her wrist still hurts, even though the ink seems to have stopped seeping from it. It’s sort of like a badly-done tattoo over the A, which has turned an ugly reddish-brown. “Things just, I, I need—” Her voice catches.

“Jenny,” says Rupert softly, and crosses the kitchen to pull her up and into his arms. Jenny flinches away. “Is—” His face twists painfully. “Is this because I talked about falling in love?”

“I don’t know,” says Jenny hopelessly, before remembering that he doesn’t know about her fucked-up arm and he probably just thinks she’s pulling away. “No,” she says, then, “Maybe,” then, “I just, I need some time to myself—research—” and darts around him to head back into the bedroom.

Rupert doesn’t follow her. Jenny thinks that that’s probably a good thing; she feels too much of a mess to really deal with him at the moment. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she buries her face in her hands and tries to regulate her breathing.

This is straight-up just not supposed to happen. Rupert’s name is not supposed to be on her arm in any capacity, let alone stamped over the A like it’s some kind of horrible parasite. That’s the whole point, the whole reason Rupert started looking at her like she was someone special; they had marks that would never match anyone else’s. Now Jenny’s mark is becoming a man she can never have all to herself and Rupert’s alone all over again and it’s all Jenny’s damn fault for loving him so much—

“Oh, darling,” she hears Rupert whispering, and she realizes very distantly that she’s started crying. Loudly, too, and in a horribly embarrassing way, one that isn’t at all graceful or restrained. Rupert sits down next to her on the bed, still a respectable distance away, giving her an opportunity for comfort without forcing her into it.

Jenny can’t bring herself to reach out to him, so she sort of lets herself fall sideways into him. Rupert carefully pulls her hands away from her face, tugging her into his arms, and she sobs into his shoulder for about two seconds before she forces herself to stop crying and look up at him. “I’m sorry,” she says, voice wobbling, and rolls up her sleeve, flipping her wrist out to show him the haphazard mess she’s made of everything.

Rupert blinks. “That’s what has you crying?” he says, sounding genuinely hurt.

Jenny suddenly feels too tired to articulate what she’s afraid of, but she’s getting the sense that she’s going to have to. “I’m—we’re—built on, on the concept that there’s no one out there for either of us,” she says clumsily. “And—I think—I chose you when I wasn’t supposed to, but I don’t want to let go of my destiny when it’s what’s keeping us together, and now my wrist is all fucked up because I won’t let go—”

“Oh,” murmurs Rupert, “darling,” and kisses her forehead, then her nose, then her mouth, all very gentle like he thinks she might break. “I didn’t start loving you because of any mark,” he says gently, “I started loving you when you stayed all night to help me research the Master. I love you, Jenny, not what you think you’re supposed to be.”

“These marks mean something—”

“My mark means I’m tied to something that isn’t you,” says Rupert. “Do you think either of us would choose that, if we could? It makes me love you more that you’re strong enough to break away from destiny.” His other hand traces her mark. “Even if it hurts you so clearly, Jenny—you’ve always been the braver of us two, and I’ve always admired you for it.”

Jenny swallows. “You love me?” she says finally, softly. She knows he does—that isn’t what she’s asking.

“I choose you,” says Rupert. “No matter what this mark says. I thought you knew—”

“I wanted,” says Jenny, realizing only as she says it, “to believe that these marks meant we were—made for each other. In a weird, messed-up way, sure, but it meant we had a connection that was just as supernatural and wonderful as any two soulmates.” She exhales, laughing. “I want you to be my soulmate,” she says, bitter and amused. “God, if that isn’t the most pathetic—”

Rupert frowns a little, then smiles slightly. “Sit here,” he says, and jumps up from the bed, leaving a startled Jenny to watch as he hurries over to the bureau.

“What—”

“Wait,” says Rupert, holding up a hand without turning from the bureau. Jenny can’t exactly make out what he’s doing, but he opens a drawer, rolls up his sleeve, takes out a pen, fusses a bit with his mark, and then shuts the drawer again, turning back to her.

“I’m sorry,” Jenny begins immediately.

“Shh,” says Rupert, and flips out his right wrist. Written messily above his W are Jenny’s own initials. “They wouldn’t be visible across the black,” he explains, “so I—had to adjust, a bit.”

“They’ll wear off,” says Jenny, a slow, incredulous smile spreading across her face.

Rupert’s grinning, looking at Jenny like she’s the center of the world. “Then you’ll write them again,” he crosses the room, taking Jenny’s ink-scarred wrist in his hands, “and again,” he presses his mouth to his initials on Jenny’s wrist, “and again,” and he seals his promise with a kiss—passionate the way she wants it, tender the way she likes it.

The ink fades, after that, the whole tangled mess of it, and Rupert’s initials fade along with them. Jenny isn’t afraid, this time around; the way it feels to be really, truly in love transcends anything any mark could tell her. In a strange way, she thinks that’s what her mark told her for the short time it was there: love is what you make of it.

#fic #calendiles #i gotta get up at 6am for the damn theater thing but i wanted to feel like i. did something #today was A Lot and thus! i fic

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klanceficatalogue · 7 years

Note

I had more of a gradual gay panic. In freshman year of hs I was good friends with this girl who was the only gay person I knew (at the time lmao) and she was complaining abt how she'd never been kissed. And I remember staring out the window on the ride home and suddenly thinking, "Hey. I could be her first kiss!" Like, that's just a thing good buds do for each other?? it took me a few months to realize "no, past me. That's not something straight ppl do. You like girls you lil shit."

I ACTUALLY DID THE SAME THING SJSBSJSJ! my best friend was pan and I had no idea what I was, but then one day she was like “I really wanna give someone a hickey” and my first thought was “please god, let that someone be me.” then I practically smacked myself but I KNEW -dakota

#asks #anon #not a fic #the gay panic apocalypse

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thestoryweneededtowrite · 7 years

Note

A javid fic that's sickeningly sweet and fluffly,

Weddings are super fluffy, right?

Shoutout to @timetogoslumming for letting me steal a couple of her ideas from when we discussed this fic

Davey went into the weekend hoping nothing could possibly gowrong. Not truly wrong, at least. Things could be left not packed and forgottenat home, mistakes could be made by the florist or the caterer, or their friendscould cause havoc at the little hotel they had chosen to get married in, butnothing was going to be able to ruin the weekend of his wedding.

Then the receptionist had taken one look at them, with thedifferent surnames on the check-in form, and smiled sweetly.

“You’ll be wanting a room with separate beds, I assume?” sheasked, bright and happy as anything.

Davey felt his stomach sink down to his toes. Eight yearstogether and they still got mistaken for friends or, worse, brothers. It alwaysmade a quick burst of shame bloom deep inside, but it had gotten easier andeasier to stamp out over the years. All he had to do now was grab Jack’s handand clear his throat.“I’d rather not spend my wedding night in a different bed to my husband, no,”he answered a little coldly, taking a step closer to his fiancé.

At the same time Jack just scowled and informed the womanthat ‘we’re gay’ in as few words aspossible. It was one of the few times he never bothered to make the point thathe was bi and in love with a man, and not actually gay.

Flustered, the woman was quick to apologise when sherealised that she’d just offended the grooms of the wedding they had booked forthe very next day. She was clearly embarrassed about it as she checked them inand showed them to their room but even though she was still saying sorry as sheleft them alone, Davey felt uncomfortable about it. He tried to appreciate the fancyroom with its beams and ornate arm chairs and huge comfortable bed, but he justsank down onto the ottoman at the foot of the bed. He couldn’t believe that,even on the day before his wedding, people couldn’t tell how happily in love hewas.

“Babe, are you okay?” Jack asked, getting concerned when hetook in Davey’s sad pout.

“Yeah,” Davey sighed. “Just…” He gestured over to the doorthe woman had left out of and Jack suddenly understood.

“Come here,” he mumbled, pulling Davey up and into a hug andhating that heteronormativity was still a thing.

Davey relaxed against Jack’s shoulder, enjoying the comfortand the closeness. He was going to marry an incredibly empathetic man who feltlike home and safe and a hundred other things he never thought he’d find, andthe reminder of it had him cheering up already.

“I’m honestly surprised she couldn’t tell we’re togetherbecause I’m so in love with you, David Jacobs, that it feels like I’moverflowing with it. I don’t know how she couldn’t tell just by looking at me,”Jack whispered, right beside Davey’s ear so the warmth of his breath hadpleasant shivers running down Davey’s back.

“Nerd,” Davey replied, starting to smile again. All he everneeded was Jack.

Jack pushed back on Davey’s shoulders gently until he gotthe message and fell back onto the bed, cushioning his fall with the elbows –although the plush duvet could probably have managed the job alone. Jackcrawled up over him and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. This was more likethe weekend he’d been hoping for.

“Your nerd,” he offered with a grin.“Yes.” Davey nodded, pulling Jack down for a much longer kiss.

They couldn’t spend the whole day making out, of course.Eventually they had to abandon their huge, comfortable bed and go and greet theguests arriving at the hotel for their wedding. It was better to not have thetemptation of privacy and a large bed, anyway. They’d agreed on no sex fromwhen they got to the hotel until their wedding night; it was less than 40 hoursbut Davey was already starting to regret it. Sex helped when he was feelingstressed and he was quickly realising there was nothing more stressful thanplanning a wedding. He was just grateful they’d shot down his mother’s idea ofspending the night before the wedding apart. She’d insisted it was traditionbut the idea of having to sleep somewhere that wasn’t right beside Jack on thenight before what was supposed to be the biggest day of his life sounded likehell to Davey, so it was one tradition he was happy to abandon. It wasn’t likethere was a bride to not see before the wedding.

All of their friends and the majority of their families hadmade it out for their big day, and Davey loved having everyone he cared aboutin one place. It was easy to forget he was anxious when he had so many peopleteasing him about becoming a married man and pointing out how sweet it was thathe was marrying his teenage sweetheart. If things ever started to feel a bitmuch then all he had to do was look for Jack and the smile he’d get would keephim going.

With all the people to greet and talk to and all the plansto finalise with the hotel, Davey didn’t much time to let his mind run. When hefinally lay down in bed that night with Jack his brain start whirring, flashingthrough event after event that could go wrong until he was fidgeting restlesslyand letting the stress take control.

“Regretting the no sex rule?” Jack asked, feeling the wavesof tension emanating out into the room.“Little bit,” Davey huffed. “How could you tell?”“You’re stressed,” Jack shrugged, rolling over so he could face his fiancé inthe dim light that filtered through the cracks in the window from the lightsoutside. “You don’t need to be, because everything’s going to be perfect, butyou’re worried anyway because you wouldn’t be the guy I loved if you weren’t.And when you’re stressed, I know exactlyhow to get you to stop overthinking everything,” he teased, rubbing Davey’scalf with his toe under the duvet.

“We said we wouldn’t,” Davey tried to reason, but his heartwasn’t really in the debate. He wanted Jack to make him feel so good that hedidn’t have enough brain cells to panic about forgetting vows or not trippingwhen he walked down the aisle, or someone actually responding and having areason they couldn’t be married.

“Mmmm,” Jack sighed, kissing Davey’s cheek. “Past Jack andPast Davey were idiots. Let’s not listen to them.”“Okay,” Davey agreed, rolling over to pin Jack to the pillow and press kissesdown his jaw.

“Maybe no hickeys,” Jack laughed. “You’ll never forgive me ifI have hickeys in our wedding photos, even if it was you who put them there.”

Davey rolled his eyes but Jack did have a point so he movedhis ministrations lower, kissing a trail down Jack’s chest until he got to hiships.

“Here okay?” he asked cheekily, grinning when Jack noddedwordlessly, his fist in his mouth to stop from moaning when Davey pushed downthe waistband of his boxers to work on leaving a hickey on his hip bone. Anyoneelse who ever saw their wedding photos would be none the wiser, but they’d bothalways know. And that, to Davey, sounded perfect.

***

Davey realised pretty quickly the next morning that they’dmade the right choice the night before. He was already stressed beyond belief,stopping for deep breaths or kisses from Jack every few minutes, even withhaving relieved some of the pressure that had been building up. Their weddingwasn’t officially until five in the afternoon and Sarah and Crutchie, asdesignated ‘best men’ were technically in charge of organising everything, butDavey still found time to fly around and micromanage and panic about everythinguntil Sarah marched him and Jack to their hotel room and told Jack to pleasekeep her brother sane and also make him get dressed because he couldn’t get marriedin Jack’s old sweatpants and a t-shirt that read ‘Atticus Finch, Attorney AtLaw’ that Les had gotten him several Christmases back. Jack had good-naturedlyargued that he thought Davey looked dapper already and he’d have married him inanything but he dragged Davey inside and handed him the garment bag with hissuit in with a kiss.

***

Most of the wedding was a blur. Davey remembered Esther andMayer walking him down the aisle and Jack following with Medda. He rememberedgrabbing Jack’s hand as soon as he was in touching distance, just so he hadsome way to ground himself. And he remembered hearing the words ‘you may nowkiss the groom’ and knowing that Jack was finally and officially and legallyhis husband.

“Sarah, I married him,” Davey whispered several minuteslater, unable to look away from where Jack was shaking Mayer’s hand with a grinand accepting a hug from Esther.“Okay, Jane Eyre,” she snorted, patting him on the back.

Her brother had been waiting for this day for years, sheknew that. She’d seen seventeen-year-old Davey’s scribbles of David Kelly and DJ in the margins of his notes. She still had the textmessages of very un-Davey keysmashes from a little under the year ago when Jackhad proposed. At the time she’d been vaguely concerned he was having some kindof stroke but eventually she managed to tease of the words ‘ring’ and ‘marry’from the mishmash of letters and work out what he was saying. This was Davey’shappily ever after and she was so happy that he’d gotten it.

When Jack came back over to free Davey from Medda’s hugs andcongratulations, he kissed his new husband’s cheek and then pressed another tothe back of his hand, rubbing his thumb across the ring on Davey’s finger.

“So, party?” he asked, grinning. “I think we have somethingto celebrate.”

***

Davey spent most of the reception not leaving Jack’s side. Endlesspeople seemed to want to talk to them, to congratulate them or give them tipson a long and happy marriage or make jokes about how it was a nice firstwedding and that was always good practice for the second (courtesy of one ofDavey’s slightly too drunk uncles). They both just smiled politely and bit backresponses that they knew this was forever and that they didn’t need advicebecause they were going to figure this whole thing out together and that wasall they needed.

Throughout the evening everyone seemed to get steadily tipsier.Davey didn’t drink and didn’t particularly like being around drunk people, soJack only had one or two glasses. He figured that, if he was buying alcohol fordozens and dozens of people, he deserved a little himself and Davey didn’t mindso long as he was still himself. After the toasts, though, Davey found himselffeeling a little left out with his glass of nonalcoholic bubbles and reachedover to steal a sip from Jack’s, pulling a face at the bitter taste and handingit back with a screwed-up nose, shaking his head.

“You know you don’t like it, so why try,” Jack laughed,kissing his husband gently because he was just too cute not to.

“I felt like I should,” Davey shrugged, leaning againstJack’s side as he put his arm around him.

Jack just laughed again and tickled playfully at Davey’sribs through his dress shirt.

“David Jacobs bowing to peer pressure? You shock me,” heteased.“Jacobs-Kelly,” Davey corrected with a smile, leaning in for another kiss.

Jack hummed happily; this was all he’d ever wanted. Meddawas his family and Crutchie was his family and he knew that adoption didn’tmean his mother and brother were any less to him than they would be if theywere related by blood, but there was something about this tradition, thisformality, of having a husband that he couldn’t get over.

“Are Spot and Race here together?” Davey asked, settlingback into his own chair and watching as their friends were having what lookedlike a very intense conversation at an otherwise empty table, everyone elsealready on the dance floor.

Race and Spot were the most dysfunctional couple Davey knewand he wasn’t sure how they’d managed to keep it up so long. They were stilltrying to convince people that there was not and had never been anythingbetween them and that they were just friends, but no one was stupid enough tobelieve it. Neither of them had formally dated anyone in four years, and theywere constantly sneaking around together. Still, if they wanted to continue tolie to their friends and themselves then Davey wasn’t going to stand in theirway.

“Officially? No,” Jack sighed. He’d given up on trying to talksense into Race when it came to Spot.

“And unofficially?” Davey pressed.

“What do you think?” Jack snorted, gesturing back over tothe couple where it looked like they were playing footsie under the table andsitting far closer than friends usually would. Alcohol was particularly good atbreaking down Race’s walls – he’d been caught making out with Spot by prettymuch every one of their friends at parties or previous weddings – and right nowhe was mumbling something in Spot’s ear that was obscene enough to make even theirstoic friend blush.

“I think Race is one vodka and Coke away from climbing intoSpot’s lap,” Davey laughed. “Are they sharing a room?”

“Officially, no,” Jack shook his head, but then he smirked. “Unofficially,they gave Race’s room to Les so he doesn’t have to sleep on a camp bed on thefloor of your parents’ room and Race is sleeping in Spot’s room.”

Usually most of Jack’s intel on Spot and Race’snot-quite-a-relationship came from Race himself, who had to talk to someoneabout how he felt so he didn’t explode, but this time it was Les who had beentoo excited about getting his own room to keep quiet.

“Are we talking about the idiotic lovebirds?” Les asked,coming over and slumping down into a chair beside Davey and putting a champagneglass onto the table in front of him.“Speak of the devil,” Jack groaned, but he offered Les a smile. They werebrothers now, after all, and he was fond of the teenage whirlwind that was LesJacobs.

“Les,” Davey began skeptically, “how many glasses ofchampagne have you had to drink?”

The one in front of him was half full and he seemed morethan a little tipsy. “Um…” Les giggled, looking at his fingers as if he was trying to add up.“The fact that you even need to count is not promising,” Davey growled. Hislittle brother was seventeen, he just wanted him to be sensible. Technically heshouldn’t have been drinking at all.“Definitely not four…” Les trailed off, clearly lying.

Jack stifled a laugh as Davey groaned and put his head inhis hands.

“Jesus Christ!” he complained.

“You’re Jewish,” Les pointed out, laughing. “And anyway, Meddagave me the first one!”

Davey narrowed his eyes. “And the others?”“I took from the table at the side…” Les laughed again.

There wasn’t a lot Davey could do about it, he knew that. Hislittle brother was old enough to make his own decisions and the hangover he wasgoing to have in the morning was probably going to teach him more of a lessonthan a lecture ever would.“Do not let Mom see you,” he warned, knowing that somehow he would find atleast part of the blame for it and he didn’t want stern words from Esther onthe day of his wedding.“I’m not an idiot,” Les snorted, picking up the glass and taking another gulp.

Rolling his eyes and leaning back against Jack’s shoulder,Davey just ignored Les’ bad life choices and tried to focus on how good it feltto know there was a weight of a wedding band on his finger. He didn’t even haveto look at it to know it was there.

***

Davey made it to ten in the evening before starting to flag.He’d danced with Jack and Sarah and his mum and watched as Spot and Raceslipped away and came back an hour later looking particularly pleased withthemselves, trying not to feel jealous that they managed to sneak away for somealone time when he was stuck talking to aunts and cousins and family friends.He smiled as Sarah and Katherine danced slowly together at the edge of thedance floor and watched in disbelief as his little brother tried, somewhat drunkenly,to flirt with one of the waiters. That was something they should probably talkabout – if Esther and Mayer had managed to raise three queer kids then he wasgoing to enter them for some kind of record – but it could wait until Les wassober and Davey wasn’t quite so tired. Hosting a wedding wasn’t easy.

He ended up sitting down in the chair next to Jack with a groan,giving it a second’s thought before he shuffled until was lying sideways on thechair, his head resting on Jack’s thighs as he looked up at his husband.

“You doing okay, love?” Jack laughed, brushing his fingersthrough Davey’s hair fondly.“There’s a lot of people…” Davey mumbled. “I know we invited them all and I dolove them it’s just there are so many of them and they all want to talk to usand they’re drunk and I… It’s a bit much,” he admitted quietly, Jack having tolean down to hear.“Want to get out of here?” Jack asked softly. They could always see theirfriends another day and right now he wanted Davey to be comfortable and happy.Preferably in their hotel bed.“Please,” Davey sighed, reaching up to link his fingers with Jack’s.“Say no more,” Jack promised.

He gently nudged Davey out of his lap and climbed to histired feet, holding out his hand for Davey to take.

They made it three steps before Medda’s sister wascongratulating them on their marriage and on such a lovely ceremony and sayinghow she still remembered a scared little Jack who had just been adopted and howhe had grown into a wonderful young man. It was all compliments but they’dheard them time after time all day and they were starting to lose their impact.Davey hated to be ungrateful, but he just wanted to be alone with his husbandafter entertaining for hours.

Five minutes of polite, if slightly strained, conversationlater, they finally managed to get away and make it several more metres acrossthe room before one of Davey’s cousins came over.

Jack loved Davey’s family, really he did. But right now, hewished Davey was estranged from them all. The entire room was full of obstacleswho wanted to prevent them from ever leaving and they needed some sort ofescape plan. Looking around, he caught Race’s eye and sent a silent help us across the room. Responding witha nod, Race grabbed Spot’s arm and pulled him over to play bodyguards. Theymanaged to successfully escort Jack and Davey to the door, fending off anyonewho looked like they wanted to start a lengthy conversation, and wave them offinto the night.

They rounded the corner to head towards the trail that wouldlead back to the annex their hotel room was in, and Davey almost tripped overLes where he was sat with his back against the wall. Before Davey couldquestion exactly why he wasn’t back inside with everyone else, Les looked upand smirked when he realised where they were going.

“Have fun, big bro!” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Shut up, Les,” Davey groaned. He didn’t want to hear thatfrom his baby brother.

Jack just grinned and wrapped his arms around Davey’s waist,kissing him on the cheek and looking down at Les over Davey’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, he will,” he laughed, earning himself ahalf-hearted elbow to the ribs.“Shut up, Jack!” Davey yelped, turning red. This wasn’t a conversation hewanted to have in present company.

He made the decision to usher Jack away and leave Les to hisown devices. His brother wasn’t his problem tonight and he was going to leaveit to someone else to talk to Les about why he was sitting outside and why hewas flirting with male waiters and where he’d gone a couple of hours earlierand why he felt the need to drown whatever he was feeling in alcohol, but forthe next two weeks he couldn’t – and didn’t want to - deal with anything butJack. His honeymoon was a break from being the Mom Friend, although he did makea mental note to get Sarah to talk to their little brother.

Les didn’t seem too downhearted as Davey walked away, andthat was a good enough sign that he didn’t need his brother right now, so Daveytook Jack’s hand and tugged him down the trail and aware from the weddingreception.

“Jack, please don’t talk about having sex with me to mylittle brother,” he hissed as soon as they were out of earshot.

“Who mentioned sex?” Jack teased, laughing. “I didn’tmention sex. I was talking about card games. We’re going to be playing athrilling round of Gin.”

Davey wrinkled his nose and shook his head. There wasn’tanything he could imagine to be worse.

“I really don’t want to play Gin on my wedding night,” heargued. Whenever he’d envisaged his wedding night there hadn’t been any cardgames in sight – just him and Jack and a night of heat and intimacy and touch.

“Well it doesn’t have to be Gin. How about Snap?” Jack saidplayfully, pulling Davey to a stop so he could look at his eyes and brush hisknuckles down the line of his jaw to make him shiver.

“Jack!” Davey whined, pouting.

“Go Fish? Poker?” Jack suggested, running his thumb across Davey’slips to smooth away the pout.“No!” Davey protested, the word a little muffled under Jack’s finger.

Jack took a step closer and straightened out Davey’s suitlapels, loving that his closeness still made Davey’s heart skip.

“Strip Poker?” he breathed,low and suggestive.

Davey shivered. “…Better.”

Anything that involved Jack in very few amounts of clothingsounded like a wonderful idea.

“Ah, so you want me out of my clothes,” Jack smirked. “I canrelate. But first, let me sketch you?”

Davey paused – that wasn’t quite what he expected. He lovedit when Jack drew him, being looked at like that made him feel valued andloved, but that could happen any time. Right now he wanted Jack to take himapart, not construct a new version of him on paper.

“You want to draw me like one of your French girls?” heasked, raising an eyebrow.

Jack just shook his head.

“I want to draw the first picture of my husband,” he replied,deadly serious.

“Jack, there are going to be hundreds of photographs,” Daveytried to reason. They’d had official photos taken and everyone had had theirphones out snapping pictures all day. He was planning to collect the best onesfrom everyone and format some kind of collage or photo book – this day wasdefinitely something he wanted to remember.

“It’s not the same,” Jack explained. “I need to draw you. Ineed to remember exactly how I see you right now, forever.”

The words sunk deep into Davey’s bone and he was speechlessfor a long moment.“Oh,” he managed, fighting back happy tears. “Yeah. Okay you can draw yourhusband for the first time, but then I get to sleep with my husband for thefirst time, yes? Because this is our wedding night, Jack, in case you’dforgotten,” he said, forcing a laugh through the wave of emotions crashing overhim.

“I could never forget,” Jack promised, pulling Davey in fora quick, deep kiss that he felt all the way down to his toes and leading himback to their room.

***

Davey sat impatiently on the bed, his jacket and tiediscarded and his top few buttons undone. Jack had kissed him and ruffled uphis clothes and his hair and his sanity, and then stepped away and left him turnedon and pouty. But Jack had wanted to draw him and he was planning on being asupportive husband so he let him collect a sketchbook and stick of charcoal andstart to draw.

He was used to sitting for hours for a detailed drawing sowhen Jack put the book aside after only twenty minutes, Davey was convinced itwas too good to be true.

“Done already?” he asked hopefully, reaching out to pullJack closer to him when he left the armchair and joined him on the bed.“The sketching is done, I can finish it tomorrow. I just didn’t like being sofar away,” Jack hummed. It had only been a couple of metres of distance buttonight that just felt like too much.

Davey wasn’t about to complain. He tugged Jack to him andkissed him enthusiastically, letting his hands undo Jack’s tie and shirtbuttons before pausing and pulling away just a little.

“Does it creep you out that people know you’re having sexright now?” he asked. It had been bothering him since Les had spoken to them asthey’d been leaving. Their absence would probably be quickly noticed at theirown wedding and people were going to jump to the obvious, and correct,conclusion. It felt weirdly voyeuristic and he wasn’t exactly comfortable withit.

Jack just sighed.“I’m not having sex right now,” he pointed out, gesturing down to theirpractically fully dressed states. He very much wanted to be having sex but thatwas going to take far longer to happen if Davey was going to interrupt them.“You know what I mean. Everyone knows we’re in bed together,” Davey complained.

“Yes,” Jack laughed, “I believe both the Queen of Englandand the Pope are currently being informed.”Davey scowled and hit him with a pillow, flopping back to lie on the bed andexamine the ceiling until his husband decided to cooperate in the conversation.Jack lay down beside him and pressed a kiss to his cheek with a grin.“Come on, babe, it’s not like everyone thought we were celibate until now.Neither of us has exactly been saving himself for marriage,” he pointed out. They’dbeen sleeping together since their fourth date, and neither had been the other’sfirst time. This wasn’t some ceremonial event.

“My parents don’t know that,” Davey shrugged. He didn’treally talk about his sex life to anyone besides Jack, except when Sarahdragged some details out of him, and especially not to his parents.“Give Esther and Mayer some credit, love,” Jack snorted. “They probably knewyou weren’t a virgin anymore the moment you walked in the door after your firsttime.”

Davey wasn’t good with secrets, especially not when they relatedto emotions. If he’d been anything like the Davey who Jack knew now then itwould have been all flushed cheeks and uncontrollable smiles. Any adult withhalf a brain would have known he’d had sex.“They’ve probably never given it much thought before,” Davey grumbled, but evenas he pouted his fingers went to Jack’s chest, toying with the buttons on thehalf open shirt.“And they’re not giving it much thought now, I guarantee,” Jack laughed,catching Davey’s hand and twining their fingers together. “Everyone has had toomuch to drink to worry about what I’m doing to you in bed.” His voice droppedoff at the end of the sentence, low and tempting. Suddenly Davey didn’t care somuch about who else was thinking what, so long as Jack’s train of thought continued.“What about what I do to you?” he asked slyly, finally finishing off with Jack’sbuttons.

Jack grinned, crawling up over his husband as Davey pushedhis shirt off his shoulders.“Well I was hoping you’d reciprocate,” Jack smirked. As much fun as it was to spendall his energy on driving Davey completely insane, tonight was going to befair.

“Always,” Davey promised. Marriage was about mutualconcessions and compromises, after all.

#Newsies #newsies fanfiction #javid #Jack Kelly #davey jacobs #Jack/David #prompt #anonymous #this is a long one

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ranwing · 7 years

Text

Kadam Fic: Dramatic Theory (2/2)

Title: Dramatic Theory Series: A New Direction (was Season Four Remix) Pairing(s), Characters(s): Kadam, Kurt Hummel, Adam Crawford, Burt Hummel, Carole Hudson-Hummel, Rachel Berry, Santana Lopez, Noah Puckerman, Tina Cohen-Chang, Artie Abrams, Original Characters Rating: PG13 Genre(s): canon divergence. Parts: 2 /2

On AO3

Summary: As Kurt prepares to make his professional debut at the Garrison Shakespeare Festival, he finds that he has a lot more to learn than simple stagecraft.

Adam couldn’t help from gasping when he felt Kurt’s teeth grazing the pulse point at his throat, not quite hard enough to bruise because his considerate lover would not mar his skin with hickeys to cover up, but just enough to burn tantalizingly. He was nearly overcome with sensation, his broad hands squeezing Kurt’s ass so firmly that a determined law enforcement official could probably lift fingerprints. He bore down onto Kurt, pressing against his young lover as their morning erections ground together and they came to a more than satisfying mutual climax.

Kurt sighed happily, enjoying the feel of Adam’s weight pressing him down into their bed with a muscular thigh pressed between his own. “I’m getting spoiled,” he proclaimed. “Getting you all to myself like this.”

Adam grinned, keeping his strong arms wrapped about the younger man, enjoying the closeness. “I think we’ve found our opening night tradition. A few good orgasms for good luck.”

“I hope that you’re not planning to save them for special occasions like this,” Kurt said archly. “I’m not moving in with you if you’re planning on saving the good sex for special occasions.”

The Englishman laughed brightly, rubbing his jaw alongside Kurt’s as if scenting him like a cat. “Not at all,” he insisted. “Any excuse works in my book. I find myself hard pressed to keep my hands to myself most of the time.”

Kurt snuggled against him, wanting to enjoy the quiet before the insanity of their day was to begin. They’d had a chance to sleep in a bit since they didn’t need to be at the theater until later in the afternoon. Their final run through had gone well and had plans to meet a few others in the cast for lunch before heading to the theater. Having a chance to rest before tonight’s performance and having a little bit of time to themselves was very much appreciated.

Kurt was admittedly a bit nervous now that rehearsals were finally finished with, but he’d had a chance to show that he could handle the task at hand. He’d worked hard and showed his capabilities at every turn. Now he just had to keep out of his own way because he knew that he would do this.

“I can’t wait until tonight,” he admitted. He turned his head enough that he could look up at Adam.

Adam chuckled, his cheeks flushing a bit at Kurt’s praise. “You’d think that after all the times I’ve done this that I wouldn’t be nervous,” he admitted. “I always get a few jitters before opening night.”

“You’re going to be so amazing,” Kurt insisted. He knew full well that for all Adam’s experience, taking on a leading role was still an enormous responsibility and Adam was as anxious about their first proper performance as Kurt was. The older man had put in a tremendous amount of work to make the brash Benedict as interesting as Kurt was trying to make Don John.

“It’s going to be a wonderful show, Adam agreed. He released Kurt and gave a long stretch, groaning a bit at the pull of slightly sore muscles. “Hmm… what time are we supposed to meet everyone?”

“Ben said that they’d be heading over to the diner at around one, so we’ve got plenty of time to shower,” Kurt surmised.

“That’s if the hot water holds up,” Adam mused, making a small face. Both of them had found the water pressure at the motel less than adequate during their stay.

Kurt made a slight grumble, but forced himself to climb from the bed. If he didn’t get moving, he’d be tempted to lie there all day. “Mind if I go first? I’ll be quick,” he promised.

The older man waved away his concerns. “Take your time,” he urged, not inclined to start moving just yet. “The tepid water isn’t going anywhere.”

Kurt smiled and leaned down to kiss his boyfriend deeply before padding into the adjoining bathroom. Adam sighed happily and nestled down in their bed, slipping into a light doze while Kurt washed away the evidence of their morning activities from his body. He brushed his teeth and shaved carefully, making sure to avoid any nicks or scrapes that might be irritated by the heavy stage makeup.

After finishing his morning toilette, Kurt felt prepared to face the challenges of the day. He stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped about his waist and found Adam still curled in the bedding and showing no evidence that he planned to move anytime soon. The idea of shrugging off the towel and rejoining him was tempting, but they had friends to meet.

“Adam, come on,” he urged, sitting down next to his lazy lump of a boyfriend. “There’s a pot of coffee downstairs with your name on it.”

“Don’t wanna,” Adam whined plaintively. He opened one eye and turned it to Kurt playfully. “You could always lose the towel and join me.” He reached out an arm to try to grab at Kurt.

“Oh no… we’re not doing that,” Kurt proclaimed, swatting away Adam’s hand and giving him a firm nudge. “I’m starving and I am not going to pass out from hunger on the stage tonight.”

The older man couldn’t help from smiling, his eyes twinkling with mischief at Kurt’s reprimand. His young lover had been decidedly composed these past weeks, showing himself to be a true professional. If he wanted to exert what little control he really had over the hours leading up to his debut, it would be childish of Adam to keep teasing him.

“You’re right, love. I’ll go shower so we can get moving,” he acquiesced.

Kurt watched in amusement as his boyfriend climbed from the bed with an overly dramatic groan and gave a stretch that put his long, naked body on display. “Hurry up,” he ordered, fighting back a giggle at the sight of Adam’s pale ass giving an impertinent wiggle before disappearing behind the bathroom door.

They arrived at the diner just as the rest of the group was being seated. Ben was sitting next to Sarah, the lovely young actress playing Beatrice in the show. Alongside them sat Craig, Tracy and David. Kurt was pleased that they had invited Dominic along. The older actor was playing Leonato in the show and Kurt had grown quite fond of the man. Even though he was more than twice the age of most in the cast, he’d been acting since he was a teenager and had a lot of great stories to tell. There was a lot to learn from him and Kurt was intent on picking up as many tips as he could manage.

They managed to squeeze in a few extra chairs around a single table, making things a bit crowded but they had gotten quite close over the past season so no one was complaining about the tight quarters. They enjoyed their chance for a long, leisurely lunch, fueling up for what was promising to be a long and challenging day.

As he ate his lunch, Kurt felt strangely gratified at being included in such a talented group. He loved his friends in New Directions, and knew that they respected his talent. It just… it wasn’t like this. Kurt knew full well that with Rachel, she had no trouble accepting his talent except when he proved better at something than her. And despite how close he was with his high school friends, most in the group never got past seeing him as the “gay kid”.

But with his cast mates, they saw him as a talented actor first and their friendships stemmed from that point of respect. It didn’t mean that he didn’t love all his old friends, but he could see the difference. It was easy to let himself slip into the easy camaraderie that came out of weeks of hard work and practically living in one another’s back pockets.

When they arrived at the theater, Kurt couldn’t resist from pausing outside, looking up at the marque and letting a small smile to touch his features. It was still a thrill to consider that this was his show. He felt his heart start to swell a bit with the realization that his big moment was only hours away.

“Hey, they’ve got the poster up,” Sarah exclaimed, motioning everyone over. They crowded around her to get a look and even though they’d all seen the mock ups, seeing the official poster at the box office for the first time was always thrilling.

At the center of the image were Adam and Sarah, posed as if caught in the midst of an argument. Next to them stood Tracy and David, holding one another and looking blissfully in love. On the other side of the bickering pair was Ben, looking every inch a prince and Kurt, his back turned to the others, but glancing sullenly over his shoulder at the rest of the group.

Kurt felt a lump beginning to form in his throat, the realization of what was happening hitting him particularly hard. He felt rather than saw Adam coming up behind him, a warm reassuring presence that gave him the grounding that he very much needed, otherwise he might fly apart from nerves. The older man placed his arms about Kurt and pulled him close, resting his chin on Kurt’s shoulder.

“How does it feel, love?” he asked softly.

Kurt turned his head to give Adam a loving smile. “It feels perfect.”

“Hey guys, we’d better get moving,” Patrick urged, checking his watch. “Mr. Tillman should be starting in a few minutes.”

Kurt nodded and tore himself away from the poster, shifting his attention to the business at hand. They trooped down into the theater where the rest of the cast had gathered in the orchestra section, alongside the stage, lighting and costuming crews. The curtain was raised, revealing the dressed stage where the set for Act One was already in being put in place. Kurt couldn’t help from making some mental notes about how things would look from the audience and was pleased that his entrance would be suitably dramatic. He took his seat and let Adam hold his hand while they waited for Mr. Tillman to begin.

The meeting was fairly straightforward, with Mr. Tillman issuing a few reminders and instructions to the cast and crew. He tried to keep the mood light in order to avoid making everyone overly anxious by throwing too many critiques at them, but made a few points about some things he noted in their dress rehearsals that he wanted them to keep in mind.

“Yesterday’s final dress was pretty much everything I wanted to see from you all,” he finally complimented. “If you manage to do exactly what you did yesterday tonight, I’ll have absolutely nothing to complain about. Keep in mind that we’ve got a large cast and watch your timing so that everyone can be on their parks.

“So everyone go get ready and I’ll speak with you again before curtain.”

Kurt smiled happily, feeling surprisingly at ease given that the biggest performance of his life was just hours away. Having Adam and his friends at his side alleviated the worst of his nervousness and he knew that he would be able to focus on giving the best performance he could. He’d worked hard these past weeks and knew that nothing was being demanded of him that wasn’t well within his ability to accomplish. Performing in Macbeth gave him a taste of what being in this production would mean. Now he would really get to show what he had in him.

Knowing that his friends and family would be there to cheer him on… that was just the icing on his cake.

“Well, we’d better start dressing,” Adam pronounced, giving Kurt’s hand a squeeze. “I’ll see you in a little bit. Go make yourself pretty for everyone.”

It was hard not to drag the Englishman back for a sound kiss, but Kurt knew that it would not be appropriate. It wasn’t as if everyone didn’t already know that he and Adam were a couple. Everyone knew who was involved with who in the cast, but it was unprofessional to have public displays in their workplace. Kurt had worked too hard to damage his professional reputation right at the start of his career.

Finding his dressing table in the large communal dressing room in the backstage area, he at first wondered if someone had accidently taken his spot. But the black uniform hanging on the rack behind his chair and the pictures of his loved ones taped to the mirror confirmed that he hadn’t been mistaken.

What had confused him was finding his table absolutely overflowing with flowers.

“What the…?” he murmured as he stepped up to his table, looking in befuddlement at what appeared to be a florist shop’s worth of blooms decorating his area. Several arrangements filled his table while a large vase of flowers was place beside his chair because there was no place to put them. From the chatter around him, it was clear that he wasn’t the only one being sent opening night gifts, but he probably had the largest display.

He checked the card on the first arrangement, a lovely selection of summer blooms and felt his eyes begin to water as he read the note.

Kurt, we couldn’t be prouder of you. This is your special moment in time. Don’t forget to enjoy it. Dad and Carole. OXOXOX

He bit his lip, trying to fight back tears as he checked the second arrangement, a large wicker basket filled with brightly colored carnations, mums and asters. His hand was nearly shaking when he found the card.

Today is the day you’ve been waiting for and we are so happy for you. Break a leg! R, S, F, P, T, A.

Kurt couldn’t hold back the short bark of laughter, amused at how his friends had managed to make sure that everyone got included on the card and that Rachel had even managed to squeeze in a gold star for him, a bright spot of glitter sticking up out of the flowers. Next to the flowers, he found flowers and a box of chocolates from Mercedes, Sam and Brittany. They apologized for not being able to be there but wished him luck for his big debut. Smiling, Kurt taped the card to his mirror alongside a photo of his friends, touched that they had made such an effort.

He popped a piece of chocolate into his mouth and mused about who would have sent the last arrangement. Honestly, he wasn’t sure who would be interested enough to send their regards. And so lavishly, he thought, judging by the elegant arrangement of lilies and roses. Finding the card amid the beautiful blooms, he nearly dropped it in surprise.

Sorry that we can’t be there for your big debut, but we’ll be there in spirit. We know that you’ll be amazing. Peter, Ellie and Melissa.

He stood there dumbly amid the riot of flowers, feeling a bit dumbfounded and trying to make sense of his universe when Gen came into the room, her arms laden with costumes that she was distributing.

“Wow, someone’s really popular,” she noted with amusement, having grown close enough that she could get away with teasing him. “Did someone mug a florist?”

Kurt nodded, placing the card from the Crawfords down on his table. “It’s a little overwhelming,” he admitted, smiling ruefully. He picked up the box of candy and held it out. “Want some? You must be running yourself ragged right now.”

“Can you feed me?” Gen asked, her dark eyes glinting with amusement. “My hands are kind of full.”

Kurt couldn’t help from grinning, selecting an appetizing truffle and popping it into her mouth. She chewed, making appreciate sounds. “Thanks,” she said appreciatively. “That hit the spot.”

“Well, feel free to help yourself,” he offered. “You and the rest of the crew work just as hard and don’t get the recognition you deserve.”

“That is so sweet of you… but don’t worry. We get our own rewards,” she assured him. “In the meantime, you’d better start getting ready. You don’t want to be late tonight.”

Gen trotted off to make sure that the costumes got to where they needed to be, leaving Kurt to stare at his table and try to figure out away to get his area into order. Where was he going to put all of them? How was he supposed to get ready with all this stuff?

Taking a cue from the other players who were rearranging their tables in order to deal with their own congratulatory gifts, the arrangements from his friends ended up temporarily on the floor next to the Crawford flowers. That would give him sufficient room to set out his makeup kit and hair products and let him keep the flowers from his parents close enough to enjoy was he was getting ready.

As he was setting out his makeup, he spotted another offering of flowers that had been hidden by the bigger displays. It was nothing but a paper coffee cup filled halfway with water, a few daisies that appeared to have been plucked from the beds outside the theater stuck in. There was no note, but Kurt knew of only one person who would want to give him flowers and wouldn’t have the opportunity to send something more formal.

Reaching out, his finger gently traced one of the soft petals, an amused smile on his face. Picking up the cup, he moved the bedraggled little collection of daisies to a spot where he could see them and he wouldn’t accidently knock them over while getting ready. He then pulled a clip out of his makeup kit to get his hair out of the way so he could focus on getting his face painted properly.

Once he touched his skin with the first streak of foundation, his mind shifted towards the task of becoming Don John.

* * *

The train ride to Garrison was a joyous one for the group as the celebration of their friend’s big night began early. Rachel had returned from her dance class with just enough time to shower and dress before they had to leave for Grand Central in order to catch the train. Santana had packed some snacks and drinks for the ride and they probably made a lot more noise on the train that was respectable, but they had a perfectly good reason so no one felt too guilty.

“Wow, what a crowd,” Artie noted in amusement as they tried to make their way to the theater. Finn was leading, clearly the path so that Puck could maneuver him through the throng of theater goers. “This is insane.”

“Adam was telling me that this is one of the biggest events around here,” Finn explained as he nimbly dodged a slow walking pair of elders heading for the box office. “It’s a really popular production.”

“Oh my God! Look at this!” Rachel exclaimed, pointing at the poster by the theater box office. “Look at Kurt!”

Finn hurried over to her and peered over her shoulder. “Wow… he looks great.”

“Let me see… Finn, move your butt,” Artie demanded, letting Puck push his chair forward. The younger man looked a bit in awe at seeing his old friend featured so prominently.

“He really did it,” Tina marveled, a soft smile on her face. “Our Kurt is a star.”

Puck nodded enthusiastically, not even attempting to hide how proud he was of his boy. “I knew that he would be. Even back in school, I knew that he had the spunk to really make it. He always stood up to everyone who ever pushed him around.”

“Hey kids.”

The group turned to see Burt and Carole walking towards them, Burt offering his wife his arm as they navigated through the large crowd. Finn moved forward to hug his mother, nearly lifting her off her feet.

“How was the ride up?” she asked, reaching up to smooth her son’s unruly hair.

“Pretty good. We started the celebration a little bit early,” he admitted. “It’s a good thing that the train wasn’t too crowded, or they might have thrown us off.”

Burt looked at the group fondly. Despite the differences and disputes that had popped up over the years between them, these kids had become Kurt’s second family in their own way. The fact that all of them were making such an effort to support their friend and celebrate his accomplishment gratified him to no end.

“I think that we’re going to be doing a lot of celebrating tonight,” he mused aloud. He paused to look at the theater poster, his expression softening at seeing his son featured there. His wife stepped over to look for herself, smiling widely at the image of Kurt in character.

“Well, look at that,” she said brightly. “We knew this was coming, but to see him like that… wow.”

Burt couldn’t find the words immediately, feeling his eyes water a little bit. This was what he’d always wanted for Kurt and to see him starting to achieve his dreams made his heart swell in all the right ways. He felt Carole’s hand in his, offering her love and support and if there was any blemish on that moment, it would be that Kurt’s mother hadn’t lived to see her son fulfilling his dreams. But he knew that she would be there in her own way, enjoying her son’s accomplishment.

He wiped at his eyes and turned to face the knowing smiles of Kurt’s friends, seeing that he wasn’t fooling anyone with his gruff façade. To salvage his dignity, since no adult appreciated being seen vulnerable by a bunch of smart ass kids, he checked his watch.

“Looks like they should be opening the doors any minute now,” he advised, hoping to shift their attention. “You all have your tickets?”

At their happy affirmations, he allowed himself to relax and let Carole lead him into the theater.

* * *

Rachel cast an admiring look about the theater as the usher checked her ticket and pointed her towards the front of the orchestra section to find her seat. Kurt had told her about the thrill he’d gotten when he saw the theater set up for their first live performances and she could very well understand that excitement. The theater might not have had the grandeur of some of the finer Broadway stages, but it had its own rough hewn charms.

It was much larger than she had expected when she saw it for the first time, with hundreds of seats and tonight it looked like a sold out show. Amber lights cast a cheery glow on the house, highlighting the almost rustic setting with a warm radiance. The stage was concealed behind a heavy burgundy curtain edged with gold.

An usher lead her and Finn to their seats and she was pleased that Kurt had managed to arrange the best seats in the house for his supporters. They were in the front of the orchestra section, with Artie on the aisle in a space for handicapped attendees. Tina made sure to sit next to him, the pair of them chattering excitedly in hushed tones as they perused the Playbill. Finn was talking to his parents and Santana was snarking with Puck, leaving her to her thoughts for the moment.

She loved to see live performances, and always felt a sense of anticipation as she waited for the show to begin. Once the curtain rose, she could find herself immersed in sights and sounds that never could be experienced watching a film or on television. It was an intimate connection between actors and audience that she always relished. The fact that someone that she loved would be standing on that stage just made the anticipation even more intense.

She looked down at the program in her hands and opened it to the cast listing. It was so thrilling to see her friend listed with the featured cast, and the bio for him might have been brief, but it clearly expressed all of his aspirations and dreams. She couldn’t help from smiling, her finger tracing the outline of Kurt’s face and feeling so happy for him.

There was a time when she admittedly would have been very put out over the idea of the group gathering for the first debut for one in their group and it not being for her. She had been so confident that she would have been the first to be gracing a professional stage. No, arrogant, she mentally corrected. The idea that anyone other than her would have been the first to find their way professionally had been too absurd to consider.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t respected Kurt’s talent. From their very first meeting, she had always seen him as the closest thing to an equal that she had. Even though their rivalry had softened and their friendship grew, there was still the small element of competiveness that she felt and couldn’t totally extinguish.

To see him racing ahead of her despite starting from behind had taken her by surprise, and in a way hurt. He was excelling at NYADA in a way that she wasn’t, mostly due to her own stubbornness. She had been so sure that Funny Girl would have set things back to their normal place, with her as the undisputed star regardless of what those around her managed to accomplish.

The past year had been an awakening for her in a lot of ways. Rude and hurtful maybe, but one that she recognized was badly needed. She had been arrogant and selfish and maybe Funny Girl was the universe’s way to trying to teach her the lesson that she had refused to acknowledge. Kurt would scoff at such musings, having no patience for concepts like fate and destiny. He would just council sagely that she had overreached but with her determination, he had no doubt that she would accomplish her goals.

So in the deepest, darkest part of her heart, she could admit to being jealous that Kurt would be standing on that stage and not her. She was human after all. But she would never, not even for a single instant, let Kurt think that she wasn’t supporting him one hundred percent. He deserved to have her be as supportive of him as he had always been for her.

Finn seemed to sense that she was thinking a little too much and glanced over, concern etched onto his handsome face. “You okay?” he asked a little warily, not totally sure about what her reaction might be.

She reassured him with a bright smile was completely devoid of artifice and actually felt as sincere as it looked. “Just thinking about how far we’ve all come. I like think that we’re going to be doing this a lot in the future.”

And she was sure about that. Not just for Kurt and herself, but Artie and Tina and Santana… even for Finn and Puck. She wanted them to be the kind of close knit group that she saw the Apples could be. Kurt had been right about needing friends to help celebrate the accomplishments of one another and to help through the harder times, and she was ashamed that it had taken her so long re realize that.

He smiled and took her hand, as if sensing that she needed a bit of reassurance. He and Kurt were the ones that understood her best, and forgave her failings. She knew that he was telling her that everything would be okay. And it would be. She was sure of that.

The theater lights dimmed and brightened briefly and a chine rang out, advising the audience to take their seats. As the audience began to settle, Rachel began to feel the quiver of excitement that the play was just moments away from beginning. When the house lights began to dim, she was all but shivering in her seat.

“This is it,” she whispered excitedly, clutching Finn’s hand.

The curtain rose to the strains of lively music, the stage decorated to resemble a courtyard in a lavish estate. Several women dressed in Regency era dresses were hanging up garlands of flowers and ivy, chattering excitedly as they prepared for the arrival of their guests. A broad chested older man playing Leonato was attempting to direct things, but the women were too busy laughing and weren’t paying his instructions very much mind. His bearded face was bright with good spirits as one of the young women came up to his side and placed a circle of flowers awkwardly on his head.

It was easy to pick out the main players. The actress playing Beatrice was tall and elegent, with a cool and intelligent bearing while Hero was petite with bright auburn hair and a winsome smile. They hovered about Leonato, the younger girl obviously thrilled at the impending arrival of the men returning from war, while Beatrice retained her air of cultivated nonchalance.

The back doors of the theater opened, and Rachel turned in her seat, surprised to see the men marching down the aisle of the theater in a full military procession with drums and banners proceeding them. In the lead was an aristocratic-looking man with blond hair, followed by Adam and several others. They were all dressed in red jackets ornately decorated with gold braiding and white riding breaches. With their tall black boots and swords on their hips, they looked like the returning victors they were supposed to be. Trailing just behind them was Kurt, dressed all in black and silver and looking as sharp as the blade he carried at his side. Whereas the other men were laughing and teasing one another, Kurt appeared aloof and somewhat detached from their antics. They were followed by a number of other men portraying soldiers; mostly dressed in red and white but there were a small number of men dressed in Don John’s somber colors and carrying his flag.

When the men arrived on the stage, they were greeted warmly with Don Pedro being paid proper respect for his triumph in battle. Benedick and Claudio were welcomed warmly and embraced as if family, while Kurt as Don John hovered in the background, nearly forgotten by the goings on around him.

It was amusing to see the bickering between Benedick and Beatrice, both performers giving their words just enough sharpness to wound but not draw too much blood. The audience was laughing at all the right places and Rachel found herself chuckling, thinking that Santana would make a wonderful Beatrice if she ever decided to pursue an acting career. She had the same sharp wit and willingness to battle over the smallest matter, though Santana had a lot more venom at her disposal.

As for Adam, he played Benedick with a lot of charm, but Rachel felt a bit put off by the tone of his jabs at Beatrice. They felt just a little too cutting and mean-spirited to be seen a flirtatious for her taste. Knowing how talented Adam was, she knew that this had to be a deliberate acting choice on his part and she wondered at how it was going to work as the story played out. For now, she was firmly on Team Beatrice.

Leonato finally made his greetings to the Prince’s bastard-born brother, almost as an afterthought, but Rachel could see that the warmth he showed Don Pedro and the others was absent. The open welcome that he had shown the other men was replaced by cool reserve.

“Let me bid you welcome, my lord: being reconciled to the prince your brother, I owe you all duty,” he greeted, but while his tone was polite, it was clear that he held back and did not offer his hand in welcome as he had with Don Pedro and Benedick.

Rachel watched Kurt intently, seeing how he kept Don John’s expression shuttered. It was something Rachel was familiar in seeing on her friend when he was masking wounded feelings to avoid being hurt further. And she very well recognized the cool reserve in his voice that she’s heard so often from Kurt as he let Don Jon be socially polite, but showing no more warmth than he was being shown.

“I thank you,” Don John responded with proper courtesy, refusing to let the older man’s lack of regard make him look badly in comparison. It was obvious that Leonato was hosting him only out of a sense of obligation. “I am not of many words, but I thank you.”

The coolness in Kurt’s voice reminded her a bit too much of how he spoke when they first met in New Directions, when she was steamrolling over everyone around her and Kurt had adopted a brittle, icy tone that always frustrated her; the one that always implied that he was better than those around him and there was nothing they could do to hurt him. It had taken her a long time to learn that he would hide his injured feelings with the impression that he just didn’t care one way or another. She wasn’t surprised that he was using his own experiences to lend authenticity to Don John’s sense of grievance.

As the scene played out, it was obvious that Don John was barely a consideration to anyone around him. Even his own brother, who focused his attention on Benedick and Claudio and the entertainment that was Benedick’s rivalry with Beatrice. Rather than trying to draw his estranged brother into the close knit group, Don John was left in the company of what few loyal men he had from his own military unit.

But Rachel could see the way Don John was carefully watching everyone around him, looking for weaknesses that could be exploited. In every scene, no matter what was happening in the main action, Don John hovered in the background, taking it all in to use when it would serve his advantage.

As the main group exited the stage for dinner, Don John was left behind, all but completely unnoticed in his absence. One of his comrades approached, trying to console him.

“What the good year, my lord?” Conrade asked sympathetically. “Why are you thus out of measure sad?”

Don John didn’t answer immediately, pursing his lower lip as he considered the cause of his discontent. “There is no measure in the occasion that breeds, therefore the sadness is without limit.”

His comrade placed a consoling had on Don John’s shoulder. “You should hear reason,” he urged, but Don John shook his head vehemently.

“And I have heard it,” he snapped. “What blessing brings it?”

Don John rose to his feet and marched across the stage, finally able to give into his anger now that Don Pedro was not around to see his true feelings. His man hurried to his side, grasping his arm and trying to get him to see reason.

“If not a present remedy, at least a patient sufferance,” Conrade urged, hoping to keep his lord from letting his temper cost him his opportunities for advancement in his brother’s company.

Don John turned to face him, the anger and hurt at how he was treated clearly evident on his face. “ I wonder that thou, being as thou sayest thou art, born under Saturn, goest about to apply a moral medicine to a mortifying mischief,” he demanded. “I cannot hide what I am: I must be sad when I have cause and smile at no man's jests, eat when I have stomach and wait for no man's leisure, sleep when I am drowsy and tend on no man's business, laugh when I am merry and claw no man in his humour.”

Rachel was glad that she had studied this play in school because the subtext of what was happening on stage was fascinating. She could understand Don John’s cause for ire. He was treated badly for no other reason than the accident of his birth, treated with suspicion and distain. There was nothing he could ever do to erase that stain, so he was instead giving in and becoming what everyone seemed to believe that he was.

Conrade was attempting to make him see reason, but Don John stilled, turning a fierce look to his fellow as his decision was made.

“I had rather be a canker in a hedge than a rose in his grace,” he explained, recognizing that his efforts to gain his brother’s favor was futile. “And it better fits my blood to be disdained of all than to fashion a carriage to rob love from any. In this, though I cannot be said to be a flattering honest man, it must not be denied but I am a plain-dealing villain. I am trusted with a muzzle and enfranchised with a clog; therefore I have decreed not to sing in my cage.

“If I had my mouth, I would bite,” Don John snapped, his teeth snapping to show that his threat was not an idle one. “If I had my liberty, I would do my liking. In the meantime… let me be that I am and seek not to alter me.”

Rachel did not miss the way Don John’s man looked at his lord sadly and she could not help from feeling sorry for the character. He had completely given up on hoping for anything better and accepted that he would never been seen in a favorable light so he might as well be the villain that everyone assumed that he must be. She could only imagine the hurt he must have felt at seeing Benedick and Claudio treated with the regard by Don Pedro that Don John craved. How different things would have been if his brother had only reached out to him.

Another of Don John’s men arrived to tell his lord of the planned marriage between Claudio and Hero and a malevolent smile touched his features. It was a little frightening to see Kurt’s features twist with such maliciousness, to see him so willing to hurt out of pure spite.

“Come, come, let us thither,” Don John urged, drawing his loyal men around him.”This may prove food to my displeasure. That young start-up hath all the glory of my overthrow: if I can cross him any way, I bless myself every way. You are both sure, and will assist me?”

His most loyal man nodded, stepping back to salute him. “To the death, my lord,” Conrade promised.

That show of loyalty seemed to gratify Don John, and his harsh expression eased just a bit with the knowledge that he was not facing this fight alone. “Let us to the great supper,” he urged, drawing his men around him. “Their cheer is the greater that I am subdued. Would the cook were of my mind! Shall we go prove what's to be done?”

The black clad soldiers fell into line behind their chosen lord, following him off stage and Rachel took the opportunity to glance at those seated around her. They all were utterly enthralled by what they were watching on the stage and she was delighted to see Kurt doing so well. Burt especially looked fixated on the action occurring on the stage, taking in every instant that his son appeared.

When the curtain finally came down for the intermission at the end of Act Two, Rachel leaned back in her seat with a breathless sigh. “Wow...” she murmured, feeling a little at awe over what she was watching on the stage.

“This is pretty amazing,” Finn praised. “But it’s not like they explained the play at school.”

Tina nodded enthusiastically rising from her seat to stretch. “I like how they’re switching things up. I always thought that Benedick is kind of a jerk in the play, so I’m kind of glad that the director let that come out more clearly.”

“And Kurt…” Finn shook his head in wonderment. “I know that he’s supposed to be playing the bad guy, but I’m kind of rooting for him here.”

“It looks like the director definitely was playing up all the shades of grey,” Santana noted. “I like seeing Kurt all villainous and badass.”

“And Adam’s doing great too,” Puck insisted. “He’s such a nice guy and his character is a total douche. I actually want to punch him.”

“Well, I’m loving Beatrice,” Santana proclaimed. “She’s totally hot and seriously out of Benedick’s league.”

Finn turned to his parents, seeing the pride on their faced. “How do you like it, Burt?” he asked.

The older man didn’t answer immediately, his eyes still fixed on the stage. “It’s… it’s really something,” he finally said simply. His mouth tightened in the same way that his son’s did when deep in thought. “He’s doing good.”

Carole just smiled and leaned in close to her husband, a calm, supportive presence.

“Well, if we want to use the bathroom before the next act, we’d better get moving,” Tina reminded. “The line is probably going to take forever.”

Puck nodded, looking to his friend in the wheelchair. “You need to go? I can take you,” he offered.

Artie smiled and shook his head. “Nah.. I’m good.”

“Well, let’s get going ladies,” Rachel urged.

Burt watched as the young women headed towards the restrooms, chattering happily about the show and how wonderfully they thought Kurt was doing. He wasn’t a theater person so the kids talking about the nuances and style of acting just went over his head. He just knew that he was enjoying the show and that his son was amazing.

Seeing him having the chance to do what he loved was all that mattered to Burt in the end.

* * *

“Come one people!” the stage manager ordered. “Curtain goes up in three! Everyone on your marks!”

Kurt hurriedly took a drink from his water bottle and stashed it where he’d be able to find it later. Quickly checking to make sure that his hair and costume was in order, he took his place on stage alongside the actors playing his compatriots. The next acts would be busy ones and he needed to be on his toes.

This was the fun part of the show, where he’d get to start playing all sides and turn the good characters against one another before Don John got his comeuppance

Adam was hurrying to his mark, but couldn’t resist pausing to give his boyfriend a quick thumbs up of support. Kurt smiled back at him to let him know that he saw the gesture, but then turned his focus inward to get back into character, his face settling into Don John’s cool sneer. Adam let his features take on Benedick’s arrogant smirk as he prepared to continue his battle with the formidable Beatrice again.

When the curtain rose again, Kurt was ready to continue Don John’s war against all that his brother held dear.

* * *

If someone asked Rachel what moments stood out for her the most from this production, they would all center on her friend. Not that the rest of the cast wasn’t amazing. She loved the actress playing Beatrice, who managed to balance her character’s strength and vulnerability. Adam was remarkable, letting Benedick be as arrogant as his character should be, but still show the confusion of a man falling in love so unexpectedly.

But it was Kurt who was stealing the show in her eyes. Despite the havoc that his character was wreaking, she still sympathized with Don John. She could understand and appreciate how his anger at being treated badly for nothing more than the circumstances of his birth almost justified his behavior.

Now that Claudio had won Hero’s hand, Don John continued his campaign of chaos by attempting to seed doubts into Claudio’s mind about Hero’s fidelity. Don Pedro and Claudio were so focused on setting up Benedick and Beatrice that they didn’t see what Don John was engineering right beneath their noses. He was so cunning in how he was playing them that Rachel could only look on in reluctant admiration.

“My lord and brother,” Don John greeted almost cheerfully as he approached the two men. “God save you!”

The prince nodded at his bastard-born sibling. “God den, brother.”

If Don John was bothered by the lack of familial warmth in the greeting, he made no sign of his displeasure. “If your leisure is service, I would speak with you,” he requested politely.

“In private?”

Don John glanced at Claudio. “If it please you. Yet Count Claudio may hear, for what I would speak of concerns him.”

That seemed to spark the men’s interest “What’s the matter?” Don Pedro requested.

Don John turned his attention to Claudio, the expression on his face one of concern. “Means your lordship to be married tomorrow?”

“You know he does,” the Prince stated almost impatiently.

“I know not that, when he knows what I know,” Don John insinuated.

Claudio had not been paying very much attention to the prince’s brother, but his implication that there may be something that would prevent his wedding

Don John looked to him, the expression of sympathy on his face a bit too overt to be entirely genuine. “You may think I love you not,” he admitted. “Let that appear hereafter, and aim better at me by that I now will manifest. For my brother, I thin he holds you well, and in dearness of his heart, help to effect your ensuring marriage.”

He sighed, looking regretful that the news he was about to deliver would be so painful. “Surely suit ill spent, and labour ill bestowed.”

That finally got Don Pedro’s attention. “Why, what’s the matter?”

If Don John was bothered that his brother only showed interest in what affected one of his chosen favorites, he made no sign. He kept his attention to Claudio, confiding the terrible news that he hoped would break the other man’s heart.

“I came hither to tell you; and, circumstances shortened, for she has been too long a talking of,” he said with feigned regret. “The lady is disloyal.”

“Who, Hero?” Claudio demanded in shock.

Don Pedro shook his head in denial of his brother’s words. “ Even she; Leonato's Hero, your Hero, every man's Hero.”

Claudio seemed stunned by Don John’s insistence. “Disloyal?” he demanded, desperate to have his fears assuaged, but Don John shattered that hope.

“The word is too good to paint out her wickedness;” he stated, his gaze sympathetic towards the heartbroken man before him. “I could say she is worse. Think you of a worse title, and I will fit her to it.

“Wonder not till further warrant, but go with me tonight,” Don John adised. “You shall see her chamber-window entered, even the night before her wedding-day. If you love her then, toorrow wed her; but it would better fit your honour to change your mind.

Rachel was stunned at the way Kurt displayed Don John’s deviousness. How easily he was able to twist those around him and manipulated them into believing what he wanted them to. Kurt was able to make Don John look compliant and inoffensive, pretending that he was only acting in Claudio’s best interests while at the time he got everyone to run about in circles to his whim. It was almost chilling in the way Kurt made Don John look so very pleased as he ruthlessly ripped apart the lives of everyone around him.

Despite his love for his betrothed, Claudio had believed all of Don John’s lives and confronted poor, innocent Hero about her supposed infidelities. Before all his comrades and her family, he renounced her publically and it was a heartbreaking spectacle. The girl cried piteously that they were wrong and that she was faithful and caste but to no avail. Her betrothed dragged her out and ridiculed her, mocking her tears. Even her loving father had no mercy, casting her aside for the shame that she had caused their family and wishing her dead. She wept and begged for her loved ones to believe her, but only Beatrice came to her aid.

All the while, Don John hovered in the background, watching what he’d caused with a look of quiet satisfaction. He had no particular dislike for Hero to cause her such suffering; she was merely the collateral damage in her war against Don Pedro and those the prince favored.

The end of the play followed the script in that all couples were reconciled. Don John’s deceit was discovered and Claudio expressed his deep regret that he had so shamed his beloved. Hero’s honor was restored, but it was clear that the director wanted to place Claudio and all the men very pointedly in the wrong. When the bride’s veil was lifted and Hero was revealed to be alive and well, Claudio’s pronouncements of love after his treatment of her was met with stares of hurt and condemnation. She stared at him dubiously and while she might love him and feel obligated to wed, the trust between them had been broken.

Benedick too had been humbled and won Beatrice only because of his willingness to defend Hero. He won only because he changed and opened himself to love. Rachel had a feeling that Beatrice would be the one wearing the pants in their household in the future.

There was a commotion after Hero’s wedding when Don John was dragged out in chains to face his brother’s justice. The bastard prince had been stripped of his military jacket, his wrists bound in manacles that clanged as he was brought before his brother to be punished for his crimes.

There was no dialogue between the two men. Don Pedro looked confused and betrayed that his brother would act against him in such a manner, that he would go so far to cause harm to those that the prince cared about. He seemed totally at a loss at why Don John would act in such a way.

Rachel focused on Kurt’s expression and the emotion he was giving Don John. There was defiance in his eyes, and a total lack of regret for the hurt that he had caused. But there was also vulnerability and hurt that his brother had been blind as to Don John’s need for his brother’s regard.

In the end, it was Benedick, who had learned his lessons as Beatrice’s hand who broke the tension between them. “Think not on him till tomorrow,” he advised gently, giving his prince a touch of support. He looked to Don John and sighed in regret for what he had inadvertently helped to cause. “I’ll devise thee brave punishments for him.”

Benedict nodded for the guards to take Don John away, saving Don Pedro from having to deal with his brother for the moment and turned to the background players. “Strike up, pipers!” he ordered, to salvage the mood and allow the play to end on a more cheery note.

But it was clear to Rachel that the cheer of what should be seen as a happy ending was not without nuance. Don Pedro celebrated the marriage of Claudio, but it was clear that he was deep in thought about his brother. Claudio and Hero kissed, but it would be a long time before trust between them was restored and even then, Rachel doubted that Hero would ever completely forget at how quickly the man she loved rejected her for so little cause. And Benedick and Beatrice would continue to struggle how to navigate their relationship without diminishing one another. Rachel very much appreciated the less that perfectly romantic conclusion since she firmly believed that Shakespeare himself didn’t believe in perfectly happy endings.

When the curtain finally came down to conclude the show, Rachel found herself rising to her feet, cheering loudly. The entire audience was standing, applauding what had been a truly excellent production and when the curtain rose for the cast to take their bows, the cheers grew even louder.

The ensemble came out first, and Rachel for the first time really began to appreciate how important they were to the production. They had done an excellent job and she wanted to make sure that she gave them the respect that they were due. The minor players then stepped forward to take their bows to rousing applause. But this wasn’t what Rachel was waiting for.

* * *

Kurt watched as Craig took his bows with the rest of the ensemble, trying to contain his growing excitement over his curtain call. He was happy for his friend who seemed to have found being in the ensemble as fulfilling and educational as he had. The other young man was smiling broadly, looking exhausted but happy in his uniform as he drank in the audience’s regard.

The minor players then took the stage, the actor’s who’d portrayed Dogberry, Conrade, Margaret, Ursula… all accepted the ovation from the crowd and bowed deeply.

Tracy and David went next, and the applause for them was especially enthusiastic. Kurt grinned happily as he watched his friends receive the ovations that they so clearly deserved. Tracy was absolutely beaming, her smile wide and brilliant as she curtsied and grasped David’s hand in hers. David looked quite pleased and gave his partner a quick hug, much to the delight of the audience who cheered them on. Many in the theater were on their feet, giving them well deserved standing ovations.

Ben came up to him and placed a friendly hand on his shoulder. “You ready?” he asked, looking tired but very pleased.

Kurt nodded, feeling a swell of pride building in his chest.

When it was their turn, for only the second time in his performing career Kurt found himself receiving applause specifically for himself and his own performance. Through the lights he could see many people rising to their feet, seeming to have responded to his attempts to make Don John sympathetic and it seemed that he was getting as much applause as David had.

From the row where his family and friends were seated, he could hear them cheering and calling out his name. He couldn’t help from laughing and giving them a quick wave to let them know that he’d heard them.

Ben bowed, accepting his accolades but stepped back, holding out his arms to present his younger costar to the audience and leaving Kurt to soak up the cheers on his own. He was stunned to hear the cheers and applause grow even louder, and he felt his cheeks start to heat as he bowed again, placing his hand over his heart to show his thanks to the audience for their regard.

Kurt felt his eyes tearing a bit when he stepped back alongside Ben and Tracy to let their leads take the stage. When Adam and Sarah stepped out, the entire cast added their applause and cheers to the audience to celebrate the amazing work their peers had done.

Once the leads had taken their bows, the cast offered their own ovation for their director who’d lead them these past weeks. He stepped out onto the stage and accepted their regard with a tired but satisfied smile, pleased that the production had gone so well.

The cast bowed again to the audience as a group before the curtain came down, closing out their first performance. The actors began to laugh and chatter happily as they tiredly celebrated their accomplishment. Kurt as he and Tracy hugged and congratulated one another, chattering excitedly while David and Ben were giving one another sound pats on the back. Kurt found Adam and let his boyfriend pull him into a hug, the pair of them holding one another and silently offering support and congratulations for a job well done.

Mr. Tillman hurried over to the group and whistled loudly to get their attention. “I won’t keep you long, but excellent job everyone! You were all marvelous! Now go clean up and get some rest. I’ll see you all tomorrow afternoon.”

The cast cheered again, then began to disperse in order to clean up for the evening. There were going to be a number of celebrations that night with friends and family.

At his dressing table, Kurt looked in the mirror and wasn’t surprised to see that he looked as tired as he felt. Now that the energy of his performance had begun to dissipate, he was feeling totally drained. His hair was a bit of a mess and his makeup was marred by streaks of perspiration running through it. He could feel his shirt clinging uncomfortably to his sticky body and all he wanted at the moment was a shower and to fall right into bed.

But it would be a little while before he could do that. He had people waiting for him that were looking forward to celebrating his performance. He would have to make due with whatever cleaning he could manage with what supplies he brought and have to wait until he got back to the motel to shower.

Around him was a flurry of activity as the costume and prop teams went about collecting items that might need cleaning or repairs before the next performance and to get the stage weapons stored away. Kurt relinquished his sword and quickly undressed so that his shirt could be washed and the rest of his garments inspected and spot cleaned as needed. He felt sorry for the backstage team, whose work was nowhere near over for the night.

After taking off his costume, Kurt threw on his robe and began the process of cleaning his skin. It took multiple makeup wipes to get the stage cosmetics off his skin to the point where he no longer felt greasy. He then pulled a washcloth he’d borrowed from the motel and hurried to the bathroom where he was able to wash down his body enough to get the layer of sweat off and let him feel refreshed enough to make it through the rest of the evening.

After a bit of deodorant and some clean clothes and he was as ready as he ever was going o be for the stage door. This time there would be no hovering in the background and he would have to be prepared to handle it. He thought that he was ready, having watched Adam and the others the past few weeks but he wondered how it was really going to feel to have that attention focused on him.

Adam met him by the stage door, offering a smile to his lover. “Here you are,” he greeted, offering Kurt a tired but loving smile.

Kurt wanted to crawl into his embrace and never leave, but their night wasn’t over yet. “Hey,” he answered, trying to force some spark into his voice. “You were fantastic.”

“You too,” Adam insisted. He cocked his head towards the exit. “Ready to meet your public?”

Kurt inhaled, steadying his nerves. How ridiculous was it that he felt more nervous about this than he did about being on stage? It wasn’t like they were going to boo him the instant he showed his face.

Adam sensed his unease and offered his hand. “I’ll be right there with you,” he promised.

Kurt knew that he was being silly and smiled back at his boyfriend.

“Let’s do this.”

After dreaming about his first time on a stage, the stage door experience had loomed large in Kurt’s fantasies about his future. He’d always imaged being able to handle the fans with confident aplomb, accepting their regards and praise with grace but knowing that it was well deserved. The reality, of course, turned out to be a little bit different.

When they stepped out the door, Kurt was momentarily taken aback by the roar of cheers greeting them. Adam grinned and all but shoved Kurt before him, letting him take the lead and get the full impact of the crowd who began to call out his name and wave their Playbills in his direction.

His brain felt like it was wrapped in a layer of fog as he moved along the line of fans and well-wishers who were addressing him by name and complimenting his performance. Several young women where all but squealing at the sight of him, like he was Brad Pitt or something. One older woman grasped his hand and expressed effusively that she’d seen this particular show done several times before and his was her favorite portrayal of Don John. She couldn’t believe that this was his first serious role. It was all he could do to express his thanks and sign her program before the next fan sought his attention.

He’d never had any experience like this before. He’s performed as part of team many times before, but he’d never had people cheering for him, as an individual. Here were people who wanted his autograph or a picture with him because they had enjoyed his work, not just to be polite because he was standing there. It was heady and thrilling and scary and Kurt wanted to both drink it all in and run and hide until he got his mental feet under him again.

When he arrived to where his friends and family were standing, it was a lot easier. His father looked intensely proud, his eyes glimmering suspiciously as he pulled Kurt into his arms and told him that he did good. Carole was beaming happily and Finn was giving him a smile of quiet pride.

Rachel grasped his arm, pulling him into a hug. “You did it,” she praised happily, the slight quiver in her voice betraying the tears that she was fighting to hold back. “Oh my God… You were amazing.”

“Thanks,” he answered breathlessly. He nearly yelped with Puck pulled him into a hug, nearly dragging him off his feet.

“I can’t wait until everyone in Lima who ever gave you shit hears about this!” he crowed. “You really showed them.”

Kurt wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was going to get a lot of pleasure in proving to all those who had abused and belittled him that he was moving on and finding success. The kid who was humiliated and thrown in the dumpster like he was garbage was going to enjoy having his success rubbed in their faces. He knew that his father had taught him to be the bigger man, but damn it… he wasn’t that noble.

His father placed his hand on Kurt’s shoulder, a comforting and grounding gesture. “Well, if you and Adam are just about done with your fans, we thought we’d grab something to eat,” he proposed. “I’m sure that the two of you are probably starving by now.”

At the prospect of food caused Kurt’s stomach to grumble almost comically loud, causing him to blush a bit in embarrassment. The energy he’d gotten from the light dinner he’d eaten before the show was long gone and his body was telling him quite assertively that he needed to refuel a bit.

Adam was finishing with his autographs, thanking a family that had been lavishly praising his performance. Kurt tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention, cocking his head towards their friends and Adam nodded. Kurt hurried back to his group to let them know that Adam would be there shortly.

Once Adam was finished with the fans, he stepped up to Kurt and placed a casual arm about his boyfriend’s shoulder. “So how’d you like it?” he asked jovially.

Kurt pursed his mouth as he considered his experience and nodded. “I think I liked how that felt,” he acknowledged. “I’m still getting used to strangers liking what I do.”

“You’d better plan on get used to it,” Adam warned. “This is going to be a regular feature in your life going forward.”

“I think I’ll be able to manage.”

“Well, if you two are ready, let’s go get some food into you,” Burt chuckled. “You’re going to need your energy for tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Kurt chuckled, his eyes shining. “We only have to do this another eighteen times.”

* * *

The rest of the season progressed in a highly satisfactory manner. Kurt’s confidence in his abilities as a performer grew with each time he took the stage and he continued to evolve as a actor. It still felt like a novelty to have people applauding him and to have actual fans that knew his name and planned to follow him.

Kelly and her aunt had attended the show on the fifth night and the young girl had waited by the stage door for him, her eyes gazing at him wondrously as she boldly pressed her program into his hands to sign.

“How did you like it?” he asked, giving her a warm smile.

She blushed at being remembered and directly addressed and said shyly, “It was amazing. I loved it.”

“Well, thank you again for coming,” he said, writing another quick note for her in the program. “You helped make my first season here really special.”

“Will you be here next summer?” she asked hopefully.

Kurt felt a warm tingle inside, realizing that he had become for this young girl what his idols had been for him growing up. “I definitely plan to,” he promised.

On the night of their last performance of the season, he felt tears in his eyes because he was going to miss being on that stage and working with this group of actors and crew. Packing away Don John’s uniform for the final time, he handed the garment bag off to Gen to take away with more than a trace of regret. After weeks of hard work and performances, it was going to be hard to just slip back into his normal life.

He couldn’t resist lingering at the stage door, taking his time with the fans that waited to greet the cast. He gave everyone who waited to see him his thanks, appreciating their regard. He posed for pictures with girls who thought he was cute, with old ladies who came every season and spoke with several young people who hoped for their own careers on the stage. He’s never finished anything that left him so satisfied both professionally and emotionally.

There was a wrap party for the cast and crew, to celebrate the close of a successful season. They shared lots of wine and good food as the cast and crew reminisced about all the hard work and the good times they’d shared. Kurt loaded up his phone with the contact information of those that he’d gotten particularly close too so that they could stay in contact in the coming months.

The next morning found him back at the theater, more than a little hung over and functioning only due to the high test coffee from the local coffee shop, packing up his belongings to take home. He placed his makeup carefully in his kit, making a mental note of anything that needed to be replaced or replenished. The photos that had decorated his mirror were neatly stored in a folder, along with the gold star that Rachel had sent him. The flowers had long since wilted, but he’d pressed one from each arrangement between the pages of his volume of Shakespeare plays to save as mementos.

Packed in his makeup kit was another memento that he was going to treasure – a silver button from his costume that Gen had pressed into his hand before she took the costume away to be stored away. It would go into the box where he kept all his most treasured possessions and one day he’d get to look back on it and remember his first days as a professional actor.

Before leaving the theater, he paused by Mr. Tillman’s office. The director was busy packing up his own belongings for the season. He looked tired by was whistling happily as he boxed up his papers. Kurt knocked on the door jamb to get his attention. “Mr. Tillman, do you have a minute?” he asked politely.

The older man looked up and smiled. “Hey Kurt… heading out now?”

Kurt nodded. “Yes, I was just picking up my stuff. I was just hoping to talk to you before I left.”

“Of course,” Mr. Tillman assured him. “Anything wrong?”

“Oh no. I just… I just wanted to thank you,” Kurt said sincerely. “This summer has been one of the best experiences of my life. And I learned so much here. I wanted you to know that I really appreciate the opportunity I had here.”

The director’s eyes softened. “Kurt, it was my pleasure. You are a remarkable talent and you definitely were an asset to our company. I hope to see you next season.”

“Definitely,” Kurt proclaimed. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Well, good luck this year in school,” Mr. Tillman wished him. “I’m looking forward to seeing how you grow as an actor between now and then.”

He shook Kurt’s hand and now the season was officially over for the young actor. But Kurt was reluctant to leave just yet. He couldn’t resist pausing by the stage, watching the crew breaking down the sets and cleaning up when Adam found him.

“You about ready, love?” he asked. He reached out to take Kurt’s hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. “We need to get going if we’re going to catch our train.”

Kurt took a last look at the stage and turned a loving smile to his boyfriend. “Yeah… you know, I’m going to miss this,” he said softly.

He knew that this would be the normal ebb and flow of their lives in the future. Productions beginning and then ending, with lots of hard work in between. Kurt felt more confident that there would be more performances and opportunities in his future, and he was looking forward to facing it.

“And I did want to thank you,” Kurt said softly. “Having you with me through this whole thing… you really helped me through this.”

Adam’s eyes softened and he reached up to gently cup Kurt’s chin in his hand. “I loved doing this with you,” he admitted. “You being in this show made the whole experience a real pleasure for me, not just a job.”

Kurt closed his eyes, savoring the touch of the man he’d come to love. There was much in his future that might not be certain, but there were two truths that had set into his bones. The first was that he was born to be on the stage and he didn’t regret for an instant starting on this long, uncertain path.

But the second… that he wanted to walk that path, however rocky and strewn with obstacles it might be, with the man holding him in his arms. Adam was a vital part of his present and his future.

Everything else… that would all work out.

* * *

“Hey, Mr. Hummel… guess what?” Rachel proclaimed as she stormed into the loft, slamming the heavy door behind her. She tossed her dance bag onto the couch and faced him with her hands on her hips. “I passed my class!”

Kurt looked up from the boxes he was organizing and gave her a brilliant smile. “You did? Fantastic!”

“Well, I’m never going to be the greatest dancer in the universe, but at least I got passed to the intermediate class.”

“You want to take the same section as I am?” he asked. “It’ll be fun.”

She shook her head insistently. “Uh uh… not with you taking class with Ms. July again,” she insisted. “I’m not that much a glutton for punishment.”

She looked at Kurt’s processions strewn about as he was sorting them for packing. “Need some help?” she asked.

“Sure.”

“I can’t believe that we just got you back and you’re already leaving,” Rachel groused playfully as she moved to fold the clothes that Kurt had set out. Even though she was fully on board with him moving in with his boyfriend, facing the reality of his leaving was hitting her a little harder than she’d expected.

Kurt just smiled at her as he taped up one box. “Artie and Tina will be arriving next week, so I need to clear out before they get here. Otherwise this place is going to get very, very crowded.”

Moving out ended up being a much bigger job than he’d expected. Somehow he had managed to accumulate a lot of possessions in the months that he’d lived in the loft and it wound up being a sizable job to determine what he wanted to take with him, what would go into storage until he and Adam found a bigger place and what he would leave behind.

“I’m glad that I sold them my bed,” he mused. It had been the one real piece of furniture he’d purchased after coming to New York and moving it would have been an absolute nightmare. Adam had a decent queen size at his place, which was more than adequate for the two of them since they liked to snuggle.

“How are you going to get all of your stuff to Adam’s place?” Rachel asked. “You can’t get all of this on the subway.”

Kurt nodded. “We’re going to rent a Zip Car,” he explained. “I should be able to get everything over in one trip.”

He didn’t miss the downcast look in Rachel’s eyes now that Kurt was preparing to move out. Even though she had been fully on board with the idea, encouraging him to take that step in his relationship, she was feeling more than a little apprehension at her best friend moving out.

“Hey, it’s going to be fine,” he reassured her. “You’re not going to lose me.”

She sighed sadly and nodded, knowing that he was right. “I know. And it’ll be good for both of us. It’s not like I’m not going to see you every day.”

“And I’ll make sure to visit,” Kurt promised. “We can set up a night where we all get together for dinner or something. Make it a regular thing.”

Her eyes brightened a bit at the prospect. “That sounds like a great idea. All of our schedules are so crazy that we’ll never see each other otherwise.

“And I get to hang out with you at your new place,” Rachel proclaimed. “I’m sure that Adam won’t mind.”

“Of course not,” he assured her.

She looked about the loft, a bit in disarray at the moment and felt a pang at the shift that their lives were taking. “Did you ever think it would be like this?” she couldn’t help from asking.

Kurt looked up from the scarfs he was sorting and considered what she was asking. “No,” he admitted, a bittersweet smile touching his face. “A lot has changed for us. But I think it’s really for the better when you really think about it.”

She couldn’t help from agreeing with him. “It’s kind of strange… I came to New York thinking that I knew exactly how my life was going to go and absolutely nothing turned out the way I expected. And I’m more than okay with that.”

Kurt smiled and reached out to wrap his arm about her shoulders, pulling her close. The coming months would have more changes and new challenges for them to face. There would be new skills to learn and new opportunities to manage. But he no longer looked at his future with uncertainty or fear. He had his friends and his lover and his family. And in the end, that was what would carry him through.

“Hey… I have an idea,” Rachel proclaimed. “I have a shift at the piano bar tomorrow. Why don’t you join me? It’s been months since we sang together.”

Kurt’s gaze softened at the realization that Rachel was inviting him to share her spotlight with him. He marveled at how far she’d come in her own way these past weeks.

They had a few weeks until classes would begin, but for now they could take a moment to savor what they’d gained.

#kadam fic #kadam #kurt hummel #adam crawford #rachel berry #finn hudson #burt hummel #carole hudson #santana lopez #noah puckerman #tina cohen chang #artie abrams

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all-the-bookish-things-blog · 7 years

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Things from my English class

"Are you still dating Hailey?" "No. Well, she's dating me, but I'm not dating her..."

"This leaf watercolor looks like a hickey."

*everyone standing awkwardly and singing Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer in a unison deadpan voice*

Someone put their name as Sojinthkalth or some keyboard smash thing on an assignment and the sub just looked at it, sighed, and didn't challenge it

Teacher: *looking at a thank you card* why does 'lit' have so many t's Student, with a shit-eating grin: because you're extra lit

"This whole damn game is rigged, her team always wins at Quizlet Live, all she does is study"

*teacher is squinting at my essay rough draft, handwritten in my frankly horrendous handwriting* I - I can't even read this, I'll just wait until it's typed *walks away*

*kid is reading the Martian for literature circles, throws the book on his desk when it's dead silent* THIS ISN'T EVEN READING IT'S JUST SCIENCEY-MATH, 'i have to balance the oxygen and the carbondy ox-eyed or I'll dieeeee, how do plants photosynthesize, it takes like a long time for the waves to reach the Earth base' is this EVEN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE

Teacher: *slams clipboard on desk* YOU SEE, THAT'S SENSORY DETAIL, I JUST MADE YOU MENTALLY PICTURE AN OLD MAN'S TOENAIL!

Teacher, to a troublemaker student: well normally I would send you to the office but that was really funny

Teacher: *misspells things on the grammar test*

"anyone want to read aloud?" -exactly one hand goes up- "anyone besides Sophia?" Everyone in unison: "no"

Our teacher also yells Shakesperian insults at people if they give stupid answers

"Well, you only figured out this puzzle by accident, but I say it counts for points just because of the sheer improbability of you getting right by accident."

*told to revise our essays with a partner* "Do you want me to read your essay?" "Honestly, no" "great, I don't really want to read yours either" and we just discussed whip cream vs. cool whip for the next 10 minutes instead of revising

In our literature circles groups: "Has anyone read up to the page we're supposed to be at?" "Im on page 30!" "We're supposed to be on page 124 you dumb fuck!" *my other reader friend looks up from her new book* "I finished it. Twice." "NOBODY ASKED YOU ANNA"

*we've just been handed back this week's papers* "I got all the answers on the practice quiz wrong." Me, sarcastically: "wow national news, Jared's gonna fail English again" and he just kinda laughed and went back to looking at his phone

While reading a Ray Bradbury book out loud: "guys, this book is COMPLETELY TERRIFYING." *class scoffs* "no it's not" "THAT JUST MAKES THE REAL-LIFE IMPLICATIONS EVEN SCARIER!"

We also had to act out A Christmas Carol and the teacher asked who wanted to be Scrooge - pretty much everyone chose me and to this day I don't know if it was a compliment to my acting skill or an insult

"Yes, you're going to write Sherlock short stories based off the ACD ones." *kid raises hand* "can we make sherlock and watson gay" *teacher takes a minute to consider "you know that would actually be pretty interesting. As long as they stay in character I guess"

She let us watch clips of BBC Sherlock for comparison to the original characters, and we also watched the Blink episode from Doctor Who for Halloween, and she has a TARDIS bookmark taped to her desk, I have an ongoing bet with my friend that she's a fangirl

Teacher: you all did really bad on this test, you need to work harder and do better or you're going to make me look like a bad teacher and they'll fire me

In the middle of class, while everyone was reading, the teacher just mutters "oh God I hate the English language, it's so dumb, why can't we all just speak Spanish or something where the spelling mostly makes SENSE" and I ask her why she became an English teacher if she couldn't spell and she looked me square in the eye and said "it was a pretty dumb idea, I know, and I would kinda rather teach history, but it's sorta worked for almost 10 years now, so I'm just not questioning it"

We also once just had a classwide discussion, teacher included, about how awesome chocolate is for like 15 minutes instead of doing our projects

#school #teachers #her last name is also smith #she's like my favorite person who's not one of my friends #a generic teacher last name tho #she also has her hair done up in different kickass ways every single day #my english class can get pretty weird #this isnt even all of them #im pretty sure my teacher is a fangirl at this point though #or a demigod

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thoughtsfeelingsjustblah · 5 years

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Monday 9/16/2019

It’s been a while since I posted. Things are going pretty well here. My depression levelled off a long, long time ago and though i’ve felt some depression symptoms periodically, they were short lived. That’s a huge change, for someone who almost constantly lived with depression since she was 7. I often felt suicidal, or close to it. That also started at 7. I remember the day I first told someone, it was my brother Neil. He just told me everyone feels that way sometimes. Me personally, a child tells me, i’m going to take it seriously and get her help. Oh well, it’s whatever

The past 8 months or so, i’ve felt a lot more social and it’s been great!! For years, I stayed to myself for the most part. I was really social in my teens. When I was twenty, I moved in with Nathan and secluded myself. It was almost completely just he and I. For years, I hardly socialized in real life, only online. I went out with a couple friends a few times here and there, but it was nothing like now.

For several years, I rarely went out. I’d have little spurts of being social, like one summer that I spent a lot of time with Cloyie and Jessica, and Amber to an extent. Then, I got with Mark, and it was only me, him and Nathan again. I just didn’t make the effort to get out. To meet people. To strengthen old friendships. About 8 months ago, something in me just changed. I met my friend Kristy, and we started hanging out. Then, I met a few more friends, and we spent time together. My friends have made friends with each other, and we have some awesome get togethers!

When I think about it, depression held me back. I always had more depressive episodes than manic. Though i’ve had my share of those as well. But, the depressive episodes could last for several months at a time. I’d seclude myself, stop talking to people, practically drop off the planet! Friends don’t understand. Most don’t, anyway. A lot of people just think you’re avoiding them or whatever. Kinda goes along with when my psychology instructor told me i’m aloof. Love her to death, I know she didn’t many anything by it, but that stuck with me - I wonder how many people think of me as cold, distant and aloof. I like to think i’m the furthest from that description.

I’m sampling Kratom, the Trainwreck strain, and I feel i’m a little more talky now than i have been lately. lol

Back on the aloof thing.. I wonder if people think that when i’m feeling shy and having anxiety, or when I have to be to myself for sometime. People’s first impression of me used to be that I was bitchy. Until they got to know me. Because of the shyness. I’d like to think i’ve moved past that a bit now.

I do have a weird need to be alone sometimes. In silence. When i’m around other people for an extended period of time, my mind feels overstimulated and I feel like I need to escape. Yes, even Mark. At home, I spend a lot of alone time in my room. It’s definitely nothing against him, I just need to be alone at times. I was really happy when I lived alone. And often kept it silent, no tv’s etc.. I need that alone time to feel spiritually fulfilled. To feel at peace. Labor day weekend, had a big cookout. It’s awesome! But twice, I was standing in my rather small living room/dining area and felt trapped. Anxiety shot up. I had to go back to my bedroom for a few minutes, both times, almost as if to recharge. It was odd. I love a big crowd, especially when it’s good friends, but my mind overstimulated. Sensory overload. I wish I knew what caused it. As a child, teachers, principals and a school nurse tried telling my Mom I was autistic. She would get angry over it. But, honestly, I have to wonder if I am on the spectrum, and just learned social skills. I truly did have to learn how to behave with people, how to be normal. Se;f taught. Some from reading things and some from observing people’s behavior. I was a mess as a child though, I wasn’t taught social skills at all.

Changing the subject a bit.. I’ve met someone whom has brought about feelings that i’m not used to. It’s a little confusing, and wonderful, at the same time. :) First, let me start with an explanation of my sexuality.. Ok.. I knew that I found some women attractive, even as a child. Certain types of breasts. Beautiful faces. A nice ass. lol I was never sure about my sexual preference. I admired women, but didn’t want to be with a woman....until somewhere in my late twenties or so I considered the idea. Still unsure. By the time I was 19, I had kissed a couple girls. Mostly for attention from boys at parties, i’ll be totally honest. I’m not like that now! I also had an experience that could be considered sexual experimentation when I was 16 or 17... I cheated on my boyfriend and had a hickey on my neck. One of my girls said, let’s all give each other hickies and tell the guys it was us. Which......sounds ridiculous to me as I type this. Extremely. lol But I went with it. I got nothing from it sexually, wasn’t turned on by it.

I refused to experiment with bisexual friends over the year, just didn’t feel like it was my thing. The closest two women to call experimentation would be a woman name Virginia. I was 19 and she was 30ish. And Jessica. Whom I actually 10 years older. lol I’ll explain both situations...

First, Virginia. She was ok looking, tall, and a bit intimidating in looks and personality. And I don’t get intimidated easily. I was already really, really drunk. Had went a type of gay dance that raised money for aids research. I had a couple gay and bi friends. That night, a friend I cared about came up to me and told me that he just hound out he’s hiv+. That hit me hard and I started stress drinking. We were invited to an after party, and of course my drunk ass went. A guy had a BIG bottle of tequila. I asked for some. He kept passing it to me throughout the night. I was so gone. The host started hitting on me, then acted like she was going to try to fight me. I’d never lost a fight in the past, but as previously mentioned, she had an intimidating presence and as drunk as I was, any fighting would have been sloppy and probably resulted in me getting myself hurt. Then, two gay men got into a fight, I was trying to stop and and she pulled me aside and told me they do it all the time. Next thing, they were kissing. And I was like, wtf? lol Anyway, I remember watching a porn on tv.. Then, I had to go pee. This older trucker guy cornered me in the bathroom. He was trying to get with me, and I was scared to straight up say no, so I kept telling him some other time. He kept insisting no, right now, he’s on the road all the time. I had no plans of getting with him. EVER. I was just trying to talk myself of out the danger that I knew I had gotten myself into. Finally, Virginia (the same one who acted like she wanted to fight me) came along, and I clung to her the rest of the night. Which wasn’t long. I had to have been about 5am by that time. I was so scared to drive as trashed as I was, had noone I could call. I was stuck. Like I said, I clung to her, it felt like she was saving me from this 50 year old pervert. She told me I could sleep in her bed. And with all the crazy drunk guys in the living room, I felt safer that way. Then, trucker dude and this big black guy she was with came in the room. People passed out around the bed. And now it was us 4 in the bed. I remember it’s like in 3rd person, as if I weren’t there, and were watching in happen instead. I ended up basically having an orgy. Both guys. (I had had a threesome with two guys before, when I was 16. I liked it. It was not forced, I didn’t feel trapped - as I did this night) The most she and I did was hold hands and kissed. I stayed close to her, she was the only feeling of safety I had at that point. As soon as everyone snuck out, I drunkenly. and quickly, drove home. Virginia tried to text me several times after, she never heard from me again. And I rarely let myself think about that night. I did not want this night to happen, but “no” wasn’t worth it, and it was a very intimidating situation. This is the first in a long time, and the most detailed i’ve ever told anyone. Even though i’m only telling my blog. I have very few readers, I keep this blog very private. I remember when I told my asshole ex about it (Jerry),July 4th 2013, he got angry at me and called me a slut and told me it was my fault. Our relationship went down hill after that.

My second serious experience, more than just a simple silly kiss.. Was with Jessica. I will start with this... Jessica took care of herself when I first met her. I thought she was pretty. Had a little interest, but no plans to take it anywhere. I also didn’t realize she had a mental impairment at the time. I thought her speach impediment was a cajun or similar accent. Anyway, right after meeting her, I went to the beach with some friends at the time. She was one of the ones going. I can’t remember exactly how it started, but we did have a little chemistry. So, at some point, she kissed me. There were several kisses that week. She stayed by my side much of the time, which I didn’t know how I felt about that. My best guy friend was on the trip too, and we had talking about hooking up. So, the whole time, I was hoping he’s make a move and Jessica ended up making the moves. lol She was really sweet to me though. Surprised with with a bottle of liquor, roses, a necklace. We didn’t “get together”. Didn’t date, i’ve never dated a woman. Did really do anything sexual....other than one night she tried to finger me under the covers and I stopped her. I told her it was because someone else was in the room with us, and that was partly why. But still, I didn’t want it. The most we ever did after that was few kisses and one heated make out session, the most we did was grind on each other. I never went there again. We cuddled sometimes though, that was sweet. We haven’t kissed or anything like that in years. Met her in 2012.

After the beach trip. Jessica was VERY persistent and moving way too fast. I stopped talking to her, and she found every way she could to get in touch with me. The primary reason I stopped talking to her, I randomly got a text on my phone asking my permission to put a gps tracker on my phone, and the company said it came from her. Later, she insisted in wasn’t her, a friend got a hold of her phone. No. It was her. It took me a really long time to talk to her again, but I finally did. After that, I stopped talking to her for an extended period of time twice.. One time, she was getting too pushy, getting frustrated when I didn’t share the feeling she had and frankly was behaving possessive and obsessive. Then next time, and it was the final time.. It was not long after I started dating Mark. She continued to “jokingly” call me hers, and I can’t remember specifically how it happened.....but she got psycho pissed at me. Wanted a Christmas gift back (which I smashed before leaving it in front of her house), texted Mark accusing I cheated on him and all this other bs. She contacted friends, trying to start shit between us. I blocked her, and it was a very long before I spoke to her again. And when I did, I promised her if it EVER happened again, our friendship is through permanently. For years, I haven’t had a problem. She still flirts with me. Year ago, I did playfully kiss her a couple times. But that’s all it was though. I don’t mind her flirting, as long as she doesn’t take it too far. And things have been good sense.

We’re not close like we used to be, though. She refers to herself as my best friend. I feel awkward and don’t correct it. She my have problems, and hasn’t been the best friend, but I do care about her and consider her a good friends. Never a best friend though. I haven’t had a TRUE best friend since my friendship ended with Amanda at 16-17. We were super close, met when I was 11. I’ve never been that close to a female since. I never had any sort of attraction for her though, she was just my best friend. I’ve wanted that closeness sense, never bonded with anyone after her though. Tried. Just didn’t feel it.

I’m taking a break from this blog. I have to. I’ve spend a LOT of time on it already, and still have things I need to say. Will continue tomorrow! <3

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Tuesday, 9/17/2019

Wow, that was a lot of writing. My blogs are often pretty long, but that was crazy! lol I took my first full dose of kratom yesterday, maybe that what did it. lol If so, I need to get more. Do some writing. I love to write and dream of getting published one day, I just don’t have the focus that I need.

Where to start back.. Ok.. As far as my sexuality goes, I considered myself straight until a few years ago. Then I realized i’m bi-curious. I kept it to myself though. Still do, for the most part. Most people don’t know. And I don’t see that changing anytime soon. I definitely do not want Mark’s family to know.

I always said I like dick too much to be a lesbian, and that’s still true. (excuse the trashy phrase lol) - but I do have an attraction to some women. But it’s been a subtle attraction.

However, I recently met this woman. She’s awesome. I have a very strong connection with her. It’s more of a deep spiritual connection. It’s something I can’t explain. I feel about her, something i’ve never felt before. I can’t explain it, because I don’t quite understand it yet.

We have so much in common. Religion, political views, a love of wolves. And so much more that we’ve discovered that we have in common. My niece even says we kinda look alike. lol And, she’s beautiful. Gorgeous face, love her eyes. Great body.

She told me that if she ever went there with a woman, she’d want it to be with me. And I had thought the same thing about her. I don’t know where this is going to go, but it’s definitely something new for me.

I love spending time with her. And truthfully, I think about her often. Not in a psycho obsessive sense. lol But, she does cross my mind.

It feels odd to feel this way about a woman. But it feels good. One evening, she took my hand while we were talking, and normally i’m not much of a hand holder, other than the hubby. But, it was nice. It actually felt right.

Ok, and about the hubby, while i’m thinking about it.. I love him, and would never do anything to hurt him. No matter what the situation. I’ve talked to him a little, but very little, about how I feel for her. It’s a little awkward. I plan to let him read this blog eventually. IF he wants to read this much writing!! lol

Anyway, he used to tell me he won’t share me, even if it were another woman. Now he tells me that he’s ok with it, as long as he can watch. I appreciate him being somewhat open minded, but him watching.....i’m not sure about. I don’t know how she would feel, and frankly I don’t know how I feel about it. What I feel for her is pure. It’s not all sexual and lusty. It runs much deeper. Don’t get me wrong, I *am* physically attracted to her, who wouldn’t be? But, if we were to ever take it a step further, I really don’t know that i’d feel comfortable with anyone else being around. It would be special, you know? And I don’t know if he’d ever be accepting of just her and I having a physical relationship together. Only time will tell.

Even if it never turns physical, she’s a special person in my life. I can see her turning into a lifelong bestfriend (....or more).

I guess I should be going. Have to get ready to start the day, a few things need done. I only took two kratom today (Trainwreck strain), instead of the suggested dose of 6 pills. I’m already feeling it. Thinking I may get a big bottle and make them part of my daily supplements! I’ll try to blog again very soon, though it probably won’t be nearly as long.

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