#i said this on ao3 but i sent the first half of this to bella but not the second half so ignore that the grammar is probably better in the

[sunshine-and-raincloud]

she's the weaving road (that'll lead me home)

pairing: bechloe

word count: 1291

AO3 link here

***

Winter has come quietly to Barden, the snow having fallen over the first December night. The white, shimmery stamp of approval marked the beginning of the holiday season in the Bella household. With wide eyes and happy squeals, its occupants eagerly got to work, decorating the house with garlands, wreaths, paper ornaments, and whatever else could be found in the boxes that had been bravely recovered from the basement.

It was now evening and the whole house was bathed in the warm glow of the Christmas lights. The Bellas were sprawled all over the living room, cozy in their fluffy pajamas, about to start their first Christmas movies marathon of the season.

Chloe was sitting at the kitchen table, half-listening to the constant chatter of her fellow sisters coming from the living room as she watched Beca prepare hot cocoa for the both of them. It's been happening more and more lately–Chloe catching herself looking at Beca, a soft smile always present on her lips whenever her best friend was around. She couldn’t help it; Beca was so nice to look at, and Chloe was so in love with her, how could she not look? Especially now that Beca has been single for the past couple of months. Also, Chloe caught Beca looking at her enough times to not feel guilty about her own staring.

Recently, there’s been a subtle shift between them. On the surface, not much has changed, but nowadays, their every interaction seemed to have an undercurrent of something else, something deeper than a close friendship. Gazes and touches lingered, smiles were wider, voices softer. They communicated without words, anticipating each other's needs with an ease born of hours spent at each other’s side. Even the rest of the Bellas seemed to sense the change, as they eased down on their teasing, seemingly waiting with bated breaths for something to finally happen.

As if sensing Chloe’s eyes on her, Beca turned away from the counter, her gaze instantly finding Chloe’s. She sent her an easy smile as she put a mug of steaming cocoa to her lips, taking a careful sip and swallowing with a small, satisfied sigh that sent a shiver down Chloe’s spine. Once Beca lowered the mug, Chloe noticed a brown smudge that the drink left around Beca’s lips.

Her body moved without a conscious command, covering the small distance between them in a few strides, and Chloe blinked in surprise as she found herself standing right in front of Beca, who looked at her with one brow raised in question, amusement shining in her eyes.

“Can I help you?”

“You, um-” Chloe cleared her throat. “You have a little something…” she said, gesturing at her own mouth.

“Oh!” Beca blindly swiped a hand over her face, only smudging the cocoa remnants more.

Chloe giggled softly, raising her hand towards Beca’s face. “Here, let me…”

Gently, Chloe moved her thumb over Beca’s cheek toward her lips. She shivered again as Beca opened her mouth slightly in a quiet exhale. Without thinking, Chloe slowly brought her thumb to her mouth, licking it clean under Beca's intent gaze.

“Did you get it?” Beca’s voice was a bit rough as she whispered the question.

“Almost.”

There it was again, the tension that’s been present in all of their interactions lately, growing more insistent the longer they stayed in each other’s orbits. Beca’s tongue peeking out to absentmindedly lick her own lips proved to be the tipping point. All coherent thoughts have long since left Chloe and she could only act on pure instinct and adrenaline. With her heart pounding wildly in her chest, she slowly, very slowly, leaned in, eyes trained on Beca’s face, looking for any indication that she should back away. Not seeing any, she closed the remaining distance, dragging her tongue over the same spot her thumb has just traced, catching the corner of Beca’s lips and lingering there for a heartbeat or two.

Beca’s soft gasp so close to her ear made Chloe pull away, but she only made it an inch or two before Beca’s hands appeared on both sides of her face, pulling her in for a kiss.

The gentle pressure of Beca's lips on hers was enough to stun Chloe for what was probably only a few seconds but felt so monumental to Chloe that she might as well have lived a lifetime in this tiny pocket of time. She’s wanted this for so long that she could barely believe it was actually finally happening.

Getting over the initial shock, Chloe placed her slightly shaking hand on Beca’s cheek, angling her face to kiss her more fully. She was rewarded with a tiny whimper from Beca, and Chloe might have made some kind of sound in response but she couldn’t be sure, as all of her attention was focused on the girl in her arms, on the softness of her lips, on hands holding onto her desperately, on the divine scent that Chloe couldn’t get enough of. The world might have been ending and Chloe would not care, everything that existed to her in that moment was Beca, Beca, Beca…

Once they eventually managed to separate, Chloe was met with her favorite sight–Beca smiling at her with this wide, radiant smile that seemed to be reserved specifically for Chloe. Beca was looking at her with an expression so tender, so full of what could only be described as love, that it made Chloe’s knees weak.

Needing a moment to ground herself, she lowered her head and focused on regulating her breathing. Beca took this opportunity to press a lingering kiss on her forehead. Chloe closed her eyes, reveling in the sensation of warm lips on her skin and the tenderness of the gesture.

It was then that her senses slowly started to pick up the signals from her surroundings and Chloe furrowed her brows in confusion as she heard some peculiar noise that sounded like someone trying to smother a boiling kettle with a pillow, without much success.

Beca must have heard it, too, as they both turned their heads at the same time, looking for the source of the noise.

There, in the kitchen entrance, a mere few feet away from them, stood Emily. She was visibly vibrating with excitement as she tried to muffle the constant stream of high-pitched squeals with one hand, the other flailing about wildly. Noticing that she’s been spotted, she made a few steps back before turning around and all but running to the living room. Chloe could bet that the youngest Bella would be telling the rest of the girls what she’s witnessed as soon as she’s able to form words.

Shaking her head, Chloe turned back to Beca and they shared a bemused look.

“Was she standing there the whole time?” Beca asked.

Chloe hummed thoughtfully. “I’m not sure… Maybe?”

There was a very real possibility that Emily had been hanging around the kitchen since before Chloe even stood up from the table, she thought. Chloe did have somewhat of a tunnel vision whenever Beca was around. And apparently, Beca had a similar problem.

Beca let out an amused huff, at which Chloe started giggling, and before they knew it, they were both laughing so hard that their eyes teared up. Beca took the half step that had been separating them, wrapping her arms around her and pressing her face in Chloe’s neck. Chloe hugged her closely, burying her nose in Beca’s hair and sighing happily.

These last few years, Choe felt like she’d been living on borrowed time, dreading the moment she would inevitably run out of it. Now, she felt like she had all the time in the world.

[queenofsarcazm]

Smaug’s Daughter gets it on with the Elven King ;)

A fic in which a modern girl falls asleep while creating her perfect smutty daydream about herself and Thranduil, and wakes up to living it. Includes the quest starting at Beorn’s, Arien is Smaug’s daughter and a half elf, includes Kili/Tauriel and Thorin/Bilbo and smut ;) 

AO3 LINK - https://archiveofourown.org/works/36555799/chapters/91167853

Excerpt from ch 4

“Leave us,” Thranduil ordered his soldiers, in elvish. His deep voice shook my bones, I almost moaned at it, but managed to stay quiet, still, unattached, at least on the outside.

He stared at me and I stared at him. I could almost feel how dilated my pupils were, as if my eyes were more pupils than irises. The tension between us was unbearable, so thick you wouldn’t be able to cut it with a knife, no you’d need an axe or a saw. I felt sweat trickle down my body, making my shirt stick to my body, my breasts swallowing the fabric of it. For some reason my teeth itched, my skin felt too tight and my temperature was running way too hot. Was I sick? I needed… something. It was hard to stand still, but I didn’t want to let on that being in the King’s presence bothered me.

Thranduil rose to his feet when all the soldiers had gone, and even though I hadn’t seen them, as my eyes had been interlocked with Thranduil’s, I had heard the steps as they left and I had noted that there had been a lot more soldiers than I had accounted for when I first walked in.

When he began descending the steps, I held my breath. I knew he was tall, I knew it, but when he reached the level I was at, I still marvelled at just how tall. I’d felt like a giant next to the dwarves the last couple of days, but now? Now I was the one being dwarfed. Thranduil was incredibly tall, even for an elf, and while his physique was on the slim side, there was no doubt in my mind that he could win any brawl through pure power. I gathered he could lift me up and throw me off this platform without breaking a sweat if he so wished. The mere thought sent shivers down my spine. 

There was something completely wrong with me.

Since I was holding my breath, I couldn’t smell him, but I knew his scent would have amplified at our proximity. He approached me slowly, like a lion stalking a gazelle that had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, forced to face its inevitable fate. If I hadn’t been clenching my teeth together so forcefully, I might have actually drooled, but If he was in any way, shape or form affected by me, his face did not reveal it. I could not scent it either.

He stopped mere inches away from me, making me crane my neck to avoid breaking eye-contact. To lift my chin up this high left my neck completely exposed, but for some reason this felt right. There was a slight curve to his lips, as if he was enjoying the sight of me, making me fear he could tell precisely how much I was struggling?

“Who are you?” he asked me in elvish. 

I raised my brows, pretending not to understand. In fact, I was still holding my breath, still delaying what I knew to be inevitable, though I knew I would require air in the nearest future.

He raised a brow at me, before moving again, this time stopping right behind me. I continued to stay perfectly still, even when he leaned closer, leaned so close his lips were almost touching my ear. Thranduil inhaled the smell of me, then he said softly, “a pity. Dirty talking sounds better in Elvish. ”

I couldn’t help it. I was so taken aback by his statement that I gasped. Was he insinuating…? Oh my gods. He was!  When I drew in my first breath of a while, his scent came with it and almost knocked me the fuck out. Thranduil smelled divine. I totally got what Edward had been talking about in Twilight when he’d said Bella was like his own personal brand of heroin. If I could bottle up the smell of Thranduil, I’d sniff it until I died. I’d never get anything done. 

Holding my breath had somewhat dulled the intense need within me, but it all came rushing back now, hitting me like a battering ram. My knees were weak at the sensation of his scent. If I could spend the rest of my day licking it off his skin, I would die a happy woman.

��Ah. So I thought.” He chuckled, the sound of which reverberated through my skin, feeding me dirty dirty thoughts of where else would be nice to feel the thrum of his humming laughter. Except... No, not good, remember what you came for, I thought to myself. Which was… Which was fucking Thranduil. That was why I had come. I couldn’t cower now. How many times had I envisioned this situation? How many times had I pleasured myself to the mere thought of it? How many fucking fan fictions had I devoured about this very man? This... this King?

Putting on a brave, hopefully unbothered-looking, face, I turned around to confront him. All of my instincts were screaming at me to push back at him, to challenge him and I could see as I turned around that he wasn’t as unaffected as he’d made it seem. His chest was rising and falling fast, and in his eyes I could see that he was hungry, ravenous even. His strikingly ice-coloured eyes undressed me as they moved down my body, lingering by my lips before they returned to my eyes again.

I smirked at him. And here I’d thought all the power was in his hands. Choosing a bold approach, I took a step closer, initiating what we both wanted. Since he didn't move, our bodies were now touching. The feel of his against mine was torturous only because I wanted our clothes removed, wanted to feel his skin on mine. Preferably I would also lick every inch of his skin, but that could wait for now. I lifted my hand next, grabbing a handful of his silver shirt before I pulled him down towards me. 

Thranduil indulged me, leaning down while taking hold of my chin, angling my head up. We were both breathing heavily, moving slowly as if not to stop the other, both desperate for more. 

My skin was hot, feverish, when I leaned in for the kiss, watched as he did the same, but then at the very last moment pulled back before our lips met. My great bold approach. Hah! That showed him! He’d made me feel needy, so it was only fair I returned the favour. 

Thranduil growled low in his throat, actually growled! His eyes looked furious. I only managed a short smirk before his hand moved from my chin to the back of my head, grabbing my curly hair harshly before he captured my lips in a kiss. 

His lips were impossibly soft, and the taste of him almost indescribable. Imagine not having had water for a month and then being given a nice cold glass of water. I could lick his lips and never tire. He felt so good I moaned into his mouth. The power he extruded through grabbing me like that was also something that was making me very, very wet.

I felt him smile against my lips as his other hand went to my waist, crushing my body against his as he devoured me through kisses. My nipples rubbed against my shirt as he held me tightly to himself. 

Gripped onto his shirt until my knuckles turned white with the effort, as if my life depended on it, I moved my other hand into his hair. It felt like the finest silk and I had expected nothing else. Pulling his hair roughly, I bit his lower lip in a not so gentle manner.

Thranduil gasped and pulled back, not letting go of my hair or waist and so I didn’t let go of him either. Our eyes met, but then I saw that his lip was bleeding. Shit, had I gone too far? 

He looked at me with such utter bewilderment that I was highly expecting him to just kill me next, but he didn’t. We were both out of breath now, my body burning with need. I had to have him. My body physically ached as if he was the missing puzzle piece and I would die if he didn’t complete me. It felt like life or death at this point. “Are you going to fuck me or what?” I asked him in elvish. 

His eyes darkened, his grip on my hair tightening. I winced, but I loved it. I loved being treated roughly. I loved him being in charge. It turned me on so much.Thranduil’s lips curled upwards, but it wasn’t a nice smile. This smile was full of promise. A promise of destruction and I was looking forward to every second of it. As if I weighed nothing he lifted me up, with one hand, and I instantly wrapped my legs around him, feeling the evidence of his need against my body. “Your mouth is going to get you killed one day,” he began. I bit my lip and his gaze shot down, drawn like a moth to a flame. “But today is not that day.” 

Then he carried me away. I leaned in and started kissing his neck as he carried me past the big throne, but not the way I’d come in. There was a bridge of sorts behind the throne, leading to a big set of doors. I was half paying attention just in case, whilst kissing, sucking and licking at his neck. The origin of much of his scent. I couldn’t get enough of him. My teeth were itching and aching and so I did bite him a little too, but it didn’t do anything for the pressure that was throbbing in my gums. I rubbed my nipples against his chest and ground my hips against his stomach while I tried to undress him. I was desperate for him. I’d never felt a need so strong in my entire life. 

There was something seriously wrong with me.

[tirednotflirting]

you're the one to help me get to sleep // maybe i fell in love when you woke me up

oh boy that title looks a lot longer on tumblr than it did on ao3. anyway.

i got stressed out yesterday and finished some fluff bc that’s what we do here at tirednotflirting. forgot to post it here yesterday though so i am doing that Now post-first cup of coffee of the day and halfway through the french toast i made. 

random side not but i’ve been listening to my time capsule playlist on spotify and i highly rec checking yours out bc this is So Fun.

here is this on ao3 if you wanna read there.

The sun is just beginning to set over LA and Alex is in love.

The day had been long but good. One of those California summer days that stretched on long enough that it made him wonder if the sun would ever start heading toward its resting place below the horizon. Warm but not hot, the slight breeze allowing them to spend the afternoon writing outside instead of stuck up in the studio. 

He’s out on the balcony now, already changed into pajama pants since they decided they would stay in for the night, and a glass of wine dangles between his fingers in between sips. The city is somehow quiet from his spot above it though he can tell it must be loud from all the activity he can see on the street. It’s nice, Alex thinks, to find peace among the blaring white noise of Los Angeles. Today had been his last full day in the city, his flight back to the farm and his furry friends sometime in the early afternoon. He has his boarding pass loaded onto his phone and could easily wander back inside to find his phone and triple check the time so he could make note of when they need to be up in the morning but he’s not quite ready to start thinking about how he has to leave again yet. 

Jack would also just immediately kick him back out to his current spot if he tried heading inside right now anyway. Over coffee that morning Jack had declared he would be making dinner for Alex’s last night (It’s romantic, Al, and I only have one more night to romance the fuck out of you). At the time Alex had assumed it was the still half-asleep side of Jack speaking but when Alex arrived back at the apartment after spending part of the afternoon writing, he’d been handed the glass of wine currently resting in his hand and ushered to the balcony door by an apron-clad Jack. 

It was rare for Alex to feel this much peace on his last day of a trip to see Jack. Usually there was some element of sadness or anxiety over the impending time apart until more band things or another trip to either coast. But as he tips back the last of his wine and stares back out toward the last bits of light in the city sky, all Alex can feel is a fullness in his chest. 

He decides he’s going to want more wine with dinner and given the time, he figures Jack must be close to finishing things up. Alex pulls himself up and pushes the sliding door open to call out toward the kitchen. 

“Jack, babe, am I allowed into the kitchen for more wine?”

Jack’s head pokes out from the kitchen with a pout on his lips. “Five more minutes, Alex. You have to give a chef space to work.”

“Bring me the bottle then, please,” Alex says in his sweetest voice, his lashes fluttering. He can see Jack’s dramatic eye roll from where he leans against the door frame before he steps back into the kitchen, emerging a few seconds later with the bottle of white he had poured for Alex earlier.

“Here you go, you lush,” Jack says while passing over the bottle once he’s close enough. Before he has a chance to step away, Alex pulls at the front of his apron to briefly press their lips together. Jack drops a hand to the bottom of Alex’s back to hold him close, his fingers pressing into his skin through his t-shirt. 

“I like the apron. It’s cute.” Alex compliments as he smoothes out the wrinkles in the fabric.

Jack’s hand runs up and down Alex’s spine as he hums. It’s an action that mimics the way Jack had been waking him up most days, and a lazy smile pulls at Alex’s lips at the memory of the fond moment. “Thank you,” Jack muses. “I only wore it because I figured you would think that, so it’s nice to know I was right.”

Alex laughs. “You wore something just because you thought I might find it cute?”

“I like being told I’m a cute boy. Sue me,” Jack says, his hand wrapping more securely around Alex’s waist. “Now go back out. I’m just putting things into bowls, I’ll be out in a second, handsome.”

Alex feels himself blush as Jack leans forward to press his lips to Alex’s temple before spinning on his heel and heading back toward the kitchen. As he steps back outside, Alex can’t help but hope that they never leave this phase of their relationship. This not quite honeymoon but not quite settled phase, where they’re so damn comfortable being with each other (in a way Alex used to spend hours awake at night worrying they would never find the path to) but compliments like the one Jack’s just thrown his way still make him blush. It’s a nice spot to be in for now, he thinks.

He pulls the cork from the wine and gives himself another generous pour before leaving the bottle in the middle of the table they’re meant to be eating at. The sky is just fading into dusk, the city draped in a blanket of purples and blues when the light above him clicks on. Alex turns from his spot to find Jack sliding the door open mostly with his foot, two bowls somewhat precariously balanced in each of his hands. Alex jumps up and ignores Jack’s whines as he takes the bowls from him and wanders back to set them on the table while Jack jogs back through the apartment to return with plates and silverware and another wine glass.

“Alright so if this sucks, we’re blaming my mom because she basically walked me through the whole thing step by step,” Jack says once they’re back at the table while he pours wine into his own glass. “Also the caprese salad was her idea since I wasn’t feeling leafy but I feel like romantic dinner date is incomplete without salad.”

“You called your mom to have her walk you through a recipe?” Alex smiles as he lets his head drop to rest in the palm of his hand while he watches Jack spoon some kind of pasta onto the two plates.

“Listen, you know I’m helpless in a kitchen,” Jack says while pushing one of the plates in Alex’s direction. “And it’s your last night here and I wanted to do something nice for you, damn it.”

“That’s very cute,” Alex replies before taking another sip from his wine glass. “You’re very cute.”

“You already told me I was cute. You gotta get more creative with your adjectives, Mr Songwriter.”

Alex shakes his head in mock protest. “I said the apron was cute before, not you.” Jack scowls at him while gently kicking his ankle. “Hush, I knew what you meant.” A smile pulls at Alex’s lips when he notices how Jack leaves their feet all tangled up together under the table after the kick. It’s silly, he knows, to get all blushy over such a simple, nonchalant action but he can’t help it.

Jack points his fork across the table at Alex after taking a bite. “Also my mom said to call her when you get back. She wants to catch up and probably bug you again about when you’re going to propose.”

Alex laughs brightly. “Well my mom was asking that I get you to Facetime her when you’ve got some free time likely for the exact same conversation.” He gestures down to his plate with a nod. “This really does not suck, by the way.”

“Our mothers really ought to be more strategic in their approach on this,” Jack says while shaking his head. “I mean it’s completely impractical that we both propose. And thank you, I try.”

“I think they figure if they double the effort they have a greater chance of success or something.”

“Fair enough, I suppose.”

The banter back and forth over their meal continues well into the night. After a while, Alex insists on clearing the table and taking things inside. He quickly cleans the dishes before grabbing another bottle of wine from the fridge and clean glasses and heading back out. Jack has moved over to the couch he keeps out there and has a blanket pulled over his bare legs, the nighttime breeze dropping the temperature enough to call it a cool night. Alex fills their glasses and leaves the bottle on the table before wandering over to where Jack has decided to lounge. 

“For you, sir,” Alex announces while handing over one of the glasses. He takes a seat next Jack, scooting closer to his side to steal some of the blanket and drops his head to rest against Jack’s chest.

Jack hums his thanks as he takes a sip and wraps an arm around Alex’s shoulders. His fingers immediately move to play with the sleeve of his t-shirt as he sighs. “Is it selfish to ask you to cancel your flight and stay longer?” 

“Not selfish but also not really a possibility, my love,” Alex says while tilting his head up to press his lips to Jack’s jaw. “I’ve got animal friends to attend to and you’ve got that trip out to see Zack to pack for.”

“Mmm, yeah you’re right,” Jack says while swirling the wine in his glass. “The goats and Zack need cuddles too, I guess.”

“Exactly.” Alex sighs as he lifts his shoulder, asking Jack a silent question that he thankfully knows the answer to. Jack drops his hand to rest in his lap and Alex reaches over for it, his fingers slipping into the spaces between Jack’s and squeezing to press their palms together. He smiles lazily at the action. It’s the little things about time with Jack that stick in his brain when they’re apart. The weight of Jack’s hand in his own, the steady sound of his heartbeat below Alex’s ear, the tapping of Jack’s foot against the ground since even in the quiet, still moments Jack has to find a way to expel the extra energy he always seems to possess. It’s all so familiar and warm. Alex isn’t sure what life would be like without the small details that make up them.

He isn’t sure how long they sit there, sipping and resting against each other while staring out at the light polluted LA night sky. Long enough that Jack eventually lets out a yawn that breaks Alex out of the daze he’d fallen into, the gentle rising and falling of Jack’s chest beneath his head acting as a lullaby of sorts.

“Bedtime?” Alex asks with a gentle laugh. He lets their hands fall apart in favor of moving to cup Jack’s jaw. His thumb runs across the top of his cheek, just below his sleepy eyes. 

“Think so, yeah,” Jack slurs his words slightly as he leans into Alex’s touch. “Don’t you need to pack? We’ll probably need to head out at like eleven since your flight is at one.”

And of course Jack remembers what time his flight is at when Alex hasn’t bothered to check all night. He’s always taking care of him in the little ways. In the ways that Alex didn’t realize he needed taking care of, really. 

Alex moves to stand and smiles at Jack’s pout when he reaches to pull him up with him. “I can pack in the morning. Right now I just want to cuddle my boy.”

Jack grins at his words and rises without any more protest. They gather the glasses and shuffle back inside. Jack steals them away from Alex once they reach the stairs and gestures for him to head upstairs while he goes in the direction of the kitchen. Alex pouts at the action and leans against the railing to wait for Jack to round the corner again. 

Jack jumps a bit when he finds Alex in the same spot he left him. “And you thought I was a sleepy boy?” Jack laughs, something warm and soft behind his gaze. Jack takes a couple steps up, his hand reaching back to loosely link with Alex’s to guide them upstairs.

They get ready for bed quickly despite the half asleep state they both drifted into and soon enough Alex is crawling beneath wrinkled sheets. He’s just barely plugged his phone into the charger when a pair of arms pull him toward the center of the bed. 

“How are you always so warm?” Jack mumbles into the back of Alex’s hair as his arms wrap more fully around Alex’s middle. He turns in his arms and Jack settles against his chest. “Not that I’m complaining since it’s freezing in here. But still.”

Alex laughs as he tries to keep his eyes open while Jack nuzzles his cool nose against his collarbone. He reaches a hand up to thread into the hair at the back of Jack’s neck. “Somebody’s got to keep you warm.”

“I’m glad it’s you,” Jack mumbles almost incoherently. Alex waits for him to say more as he continues drawing short patterns through Jack’s hair but he only softly hums and nestles further against his chest.

Alex is moments away from falling falling falling to a peaceful rest when Jack’s hand settles against the bottom of his back beneath the sweatshirt he stole from his closet, the extra layer of Jack’s familiar scent providing some additional security on his last night in this bed. Alex feels Jack’s sleep steady breath puff against his neck and in his final moments of consciousness, all he can think is Jack Jack Jack. His gentle laugh and warm gaze fills Alex’s mind as he lets his eyes finally flutter shut.

And maybe that’s what love is, falling asleep already in a dream.

*

It’s pouring down rain in Maryland and Jack is in love. 

He’s only just woken up, his mind still cloudy from sleep and his eyes still locked shut. Jack isn’t sure what time it is but given that he’s rising naturally and not from an alarm or kisses being pressed against his cheeks, he assumes it must be pretty late into the morning hours. 

It’s his first morning on this visit out to the farm. His flight the previous night had gotten in before dinner so Alex had declared it date night (Is every night we’re together not date night, Alex? Romance mode 24/7, baby.) and insisted they stop at the store for ingredients before heading back to the house. Once they were at the farm, they tended to the animals (or Alex did while Jack sat on the floor and let the goats chew on his hoodie strings) before heading back inside where Jack sat at the counter and told Alex stories about his airport adventures while watching him cook. They had tried to start a movie after food but Jack kept falling asleep every few minutes with his head in Alex’s lap so it wasn’t long before he was being pulled in the direction of the bedroom.

He sighs as the last moments of sleep drift off and he settles back into the land of the living. He’s yet to open his eyes in case the sun is peeking in anywhere in the room since he knows he’s not yet awake enough for true daylight. Two thoughts enter his mind almost immediately though: it’s cold as hell and there’s coffee brewing in the kitchen. Both of these things are a result of a third thing that Jack notices and it’s that Alex has left him alone in bed.

Jack would get whiny about the third thing but he knows that given where they are it would be pretty selfish of him. Mornings at the farm are loaded with more responsibilities than mornings in LA, and Jack knows the animal friends deserve breakfast and Alex’s bright, sleepy smile just as much as he does. Plus, his boy did make him coffee. 

Jack takes a deep breath and catches the scent of dark roast mixed in with the scent of Alex (his cologne and the same laundry detergent he’s used since his mom would pack it for him on their early tours) before finally pushing himself up from the mattress and opening his eyes. The room is thankfully still dark since Alex left the curtains closed for him but he can hear the rain beating down against the windows even through the heavy fabric. Jack pouts then, suddenly worried about Alex having to wander around out in the January rain by himself. 

He finds a hoodie and the slippers his mom gifted him for Christmas a few weeks earlier on the floor beside the bed and pulls both on before shuffling from the bedroom. Jack immediately pulls at the sleeves to cover his hands and considers going back to the bedroom to steal a shirt to throw on underneath the hoodie but the coffee hits his nose again and he continues in the direction of the kitchen.

The only light on in the room is the one over the sink and because of the rain, the kitchen remains pretty dark despite the clock on the microwave reading that it’s a little bit past ten. Jack wanders through the room to the drying rack by the sink to get his mug (the one he found in some little thrift store somewhere in Texas with the painted butterflies) before turning back to the island. He fills the mug from the mostly full French press that must have been made pretty recently, Jack thinks, as he burns his tongue a little on his first sip. Fresh coffee means that Alex has already been out to the stalls for the morning so Jack turns then, having a good feeling about where Alex may have wandered off to, and lets his hip rest against the edge of the counter.

From where he stands leaning against the kitchen island, Jack can see Alex’s head poking out from the back of the couch out on the front porch. He’s got a blue beanie pulled over his head and Jack can see his hands cupped around a mug and he can see the steam rising against Alex’s face. He pulls his phone from his pocket to check the temperature and rolls his eyes at the number shown on the screen but it doesn’t stop him from lifting his own mug to head in the direction of the front door.

Alex looks over in his direction as Jack pushes the door closed behind him to join Alex out in the cold morning air. The rain had settled mostly and a thick fog blankets over the property, the trees at the end of the road and pasture just barely visible. A soft smile pulls at Alex’s lips as he pats the cushion beside him. Jack returns the grin as he takes in the crinkles beside his boy’s tired eyes. Sometimes Jack forgets they’re getting older but then notices a gray hair when he’s looking in the mirror while brushing his teeth or notices Alex’s laughter lines deepening ever so slightly and it reminds him just how long they’ve been on these wild adventures together.

He takes the spot beside Alex and pulls the blanket he’s got covering his lap over his own before letting his head drop to rest against Alex’s shoulder. Jack turns to press his cold nose against Alex’s neck and smiles when he hears a soft whine in response to the action.

“Why are we having our coffee outside when it’s nearly freezing out?” Jack mumbles against Alex’s skin. He feels a hand reach up to card through his bed head and smiles at the feeling.

“You’ve been in California too long,” Alex teases. “We would have been calling this a warm morning back in the day.”

“Jesus, are we really old enough for things to be back in the day now?”

“We’re definitely getting there, love.” Alex laughs before pausing to take a sip from his mug. “Anyway, I finished up feeding everybody and wanted to keep listening to the rain.”

Jack figures that’s a fair enough answer (at least coming from Alex) so they sit in silence for a little while. They sip from their respective mugs and Jack cuddles impossibly closer to Alex for warmth as he searches for patterns in the sound of the rain against the roof. Jack notices the shapes Alex has been drawing through his hair change suddenly and he sits up a bit to see his face and pouts at the expression he’s met with.

“What are you thinking so hard about, huh?” Jack asks as he reaches a hand up to rub away the lines across Alex’s forehead. “Is everything okay?”

“Do you want to move in together?” Alex asks in a somewhat rushed voice while his hands pull at the ends of his sleeves. “Like here? On the farm?”

Jack’s hand falls from Alex’s forehead to cup his cheek. “What?”

“I mean, you should probably keep the place in LA since we’re over there enough for work stuff. And I’ve just been thinking that this feels like a good place to settle down and,” he pauses to take a breath and looks up to meet Jack’s gaze. “And I don’t know if I’m moving too fast but I want to settle down with you.”

“Al, I’ve known you for like, half my life. We’re not exactly operating on a normal relationship timeline here. I’d love to move in,” Jack says into the space between them and he can’t help but lean forward to brush their lips together when Alex’s eyes widen. “Though you’re going to have to teach me how to actually be helpful around this place rather than just sit and look cute while petting the goats.”

“Having someone to sit and look cute with the goats is an essential part of farm maintenance, Jack. Don’t sell yourself short,” Alex says while reaching to cover the hand Jack still has against his cheek. “But don’t worry. We’ll teach you to be a proper farm boy. Get you some boots and everything.”

“I want a cowboy hat, too. But sounds perfect.” Jack says before leaning in to press their lips together again. Alex pulls him closer and Jack feels himself smile into the kiss. Alex’s warmth almost makes him forget about the cold winter air surrounding them and his mind is flooded with the thought of a future where everyday is spent with the eternal summer’s day that is Alex Gaskarth.

Alex pulls away first and a giggle leaves his lips as Jack whines at him. “Guess we should go ahead and actually get the day started then?”

“Has to happen eventually, I suppose.” Jack sighs as he sinks further into the couch. 

Alex laughs as he stands up, his hand reaching down to link their hands together. “Come on. We’ve got brunch with the mothers in an hour and now we’ve got good news to share with them. Moms love good news.”

Jack allows himself to be pulled up from the couch and in the direction of the front door. He leans against the wood once they’re back inside and pulls Alex into his hold while his arms move to hang over his shoulders. “We smell like farm and wet dog. And since we’re going to be sharing a home now, I think it only makes sense that we try to conserve resources. What do you think?”

Alex rolls his eyes and slides his hands up to rest against Jack’s chest. “Thank you for the invitation but I figured I would make up another pot of coffee for us while you go get ready?”

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“I keep asking myself the same thing.”

With a final press of his lips to Jack’s cheek, Alex heads off to make the promised coffee. Jack watches him head into the kitchen from where he stands in the front hall. He sees Alex leave the mugs on the island in favor of pulling his phone out to connect to the speaker next to the sink and a second later a song starts playing that immediately has him bouncing on his toes as he fills the kettle from the sink. Jack smiles as he leans against the frame into the dining room while he watches Alex dance around and softly sing while scooping new coffee grounds. He turns then and Jack is caught as Alex smiles and winks in his direction, a mouthed Go while pointing in the direction of the bedroom being his parting gift. 

Jack blows a kiss and starts making his way down the front hall to the stairs. He pauses for a moment at the table where Alex had left a mess of different holiday cards he’d received throughout the season. Bright colors and happy smiles meet Jack’s eyes as he spots friends and their families and pets. He sighs and continues down the hall after a moment, wondering if maybe they could get the goats to sit still long enough for a holiday card sometime next fall. It’s a swirling, dreamy thought, but he spends the rest of the morning stuck on the idea of seeing their smiling faces and well wishes mixed into their loved ones’ piles of cards.

And maybe that’s what love is, waking up to the beginning of another dream.

*

[star-named-riddle]

in the smallest pieces (there was still us)

Is this too long for a microfic? yes

Is it too long for a drabble? also yes

Is it slightly NSFW? that too, hence the "read more"

Day 13 - Sunburn

Bellatrix hissed under the hands of Lord Voldemort. He laughed. A deep, rumbling chuckle.

He was spreading ointment on her back. First broadly, then in smaller and smaller circles, driving it into the red, swollen skin.

Bellatrix hissed again, squirming beneath his hands.

“I sent you to Spain to retrieve an artifact,” he said, “not to get sunburn.”

“I didn’t mean to get it, my Lord,” she replied, wincing. “But it was so hot.”

“And you didn’t think to keep your shirt on?” He teased, stroking the narrow band of skin her bra had protected from the sun.

“It kept sticking to me.”

“And do you not have magic, Bella?” Half a whisper, half a menace.

“I was following a witch known to keep several wards on herself,” she gasped as she adjusted her arms. Her shoulders were an angrier red than her back. “I didn’t want to use magic unnecessarily.”

Lord Voldemort admired her body. He had made her lie down on his desk, wearing nothing but her knickers. The only thing cushioning her body was the dark green leather over the mahogany. She had pulled her braid over her shoulder and was using it as a pillow.

He was leaning against the desk, his left foot dangling above the floor, both his hands free to collect balm from the pot and spread it.

The redness of her skin had abated. The ointment was working, but he was too enthralled to stop.

“When did you find it necessary?”

“When I ambushed her, my Lord.” She turned her face to look at him with a wicked smile on her lips. “When I killed her. And when I came back to you.”

Lord Voldemort smiled back, a dark spark igniting in his eyes.

“You brought me quite the loot,” he said, looking down the length of the desk to where Bella had dropped her expanded satchel. He had asked for an artifact, and she had brought him that and everything else of interest from the witch’s house.

He dragged his eyes back over her, admiring her long legs, noticing her black underwear, and the sharp line above it where the burning started. Her hips caught his attention, and his left hand travelled down her back, to caress her bottom.

“I’m not burned there, my Lord.”

Bellatrix hissed when he squeezed a buttock. “No, but I was thinking of making it red, to match.”

Also on AO3

Prompts by @wolfstarmicrofic

[electrictoes]

Time Flies Over Us

For @dailysvu’s Sonny Carisi Week

Day 2: Off Duty 

Characters: Sonny Carisi, Amanda Rollins, Fin Tutuola, Olivia Benson, Dominick Carisi Sr, Gina Carisi, Bella Carisi, Mama Carisi, Jesse Rollins, Billie Rollins

Relationship: Amanda Rollins / Sonny Carisi 

Warnings: Gun violence

Five time Sonny Carisi's off duty time gets interrupted + one time it doesn't.

Read on AO3

1.

Sonny held his newest niece above his head, grinning as she laughed gleefully - he wasn’t quite hiding in the kitchen with his father, but he was definitely avoiding the living room where his mother and sisters were fretting over last minute wedding preparations. Sonny could have been relaxing in his own apartment, getting an early night ahead of tomorrow morning’s chaos, but his father had needed the moral support so he’d packed an overnight bag, collected his wedding suit on the drive over, and had plucked baby Grace from her mother’s arms as soon as he walked through the door.

He’d put up with thirty minutes of his sisters squabbling over how exactly Bella’s hair should be styled in the morning, before his dad had rescued him with a quick, “Hey son, give me a hand with something?”

The something turned out to be emptying the bottles of beer he had tucked away at the back of the fridge behind boxes, trays and tupperware dishes filled with food for tomorrow’s festivities - according to his dad, his mom had been cooking non-stop for almost the whole week. They’d been left to their own devices, sipping beer and passing the time with quiet conversation.

“It’ll all be over soon enough,” his dad was saying.

“Real positive, Pops,”

“You know what I mean,” his father gestured to the door,  “The fuss, the speeches. Your mother’s worryin’.”

“Ma’s never gonna stop worryin’ about Bella, Dad,” Sonny told him.

“It’s you she worries about the most, son,” he said, watching Sonny carefully as he rested Grace against his chest, her head dropping onto his shoulder sleepily, “You gotta get yourself a good woman.”

“Don’t start that again-”

They were interrupted by Gina, a frown on her face as she held out his cell phone like she was delivering a bomb, “It keeps ringin’, Sonny,” she said, exchanging his phone for Grace.

Sonny glanced down at the screen - five missed calls, two from Benson, two from Dodds, one from Rollins. He gave his father a sheepish look as he returned Rollins’ call - better than getting it in the ear from his boss about not picking up, “Hey,” he said when she answered, and she sighed down the phone.

“I know you’re with your family,” she started.

“What is it?”

“It’s bad, Carisi. Four kids,” Rollins said, the stress of the case already evident in her voice, “I told Liv you’re busy this weekend, but she wanted me to try you anyway.”

“Where do I need to be?” he asked, already grabbing his jacket and keys.

“Meet me at Bellevue?”

“Okay, okay. Tell the Lieutenant I’ll be there as soon as I can. But Rollins-”

“I already told her you’re out tomorrow,” she said, and he nodded gratefully into the phone, though she couldn’t see him.

His dad frowned at him when he hung up the phone, “Duty calls?”

“Yeah, I- I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“What? Sonny, you can’t leave!” Bella said, her arms curled around herself in the doorway.

“I’ll be back in plenty of time for the wedding,” he promised, pressing a kiss to the side of her head as he passed her, shuffling down the hallway to make it out of the house and on the road before his mother caught him sneaking off.

2.

It was Sunday afternoon, the first Sunday afternoon he’d had free in a long time, and Sonny just had a few errands to run before he could get back to his apartment, enjoy some down time for a change.

His last stop at a bodega just down the block from his apartment building was meant to be a brief one - just grab a couple of things he’d forgotten at the grocery store then head straight home. He was at the back of the store when he heard the shout - the demand for money, a scream from a woman near the cash register. He shuffled backwards, already reaching for his badge as he craned his neck down an aisle to get a better view.

Standing in front of the counter was a kid - no older than than fifteen. He had a gun pointed towards the cashier; it was shaking in his hand. He didn’t have a mask or even a ball cap covering his face - he was in plain sight of witnesses and CCTV cameras alike. This was no seasoned criminal.

But he still had a gun in his hand, and inexperienced kids with guns could pull the trigger like a startled animal at any moment. Sonny quietly edged down the aisle, making eye contact with the cashier as he lifted his badge.

The boy jabbed his arm forward, bringing the gun slightly closer to the cashier, “Hurry up. And don’t press no panic button.”

Sonny continued to move quietly forward as the cashier emptied the register, he'd almost reached the end of the aisle before the boy turned around, his eyes widening at Sonny’s proximity, at the badge in his hand. He turned fully, so that the gun was now trained on Sonny. Behind him Sonny saw the cashier reaching under the counter, and he sent up a silent prayer of hope that there was a panic button there, that back up was coming. He held his hands up as non-threateningly as possible as he stepped closer to the boy.

“I’m Detective Carisi,” he said, “NYPD. You wanna put the gun down?”

“I’ll shoot you,” the boy said, his finger moving to rest on the trigger.

Sonny was now inches away from him, an arm extended out, a hand reaching for the weapon.

The boy pressed his finger to the trigger.

It was a miracle that he missed, given how close Sonny was, even with his hand shaking there were plenty of places he could have hit Sonny, but the bullet soared over his shoulder, not even grazing him before it embedded itself in a shelving unit. The recoil startled the kid - he’d clearly never fired a gun before, and he looked around himself in panic. Sonny closed the gap between them, curling his fingers around the top of the gun and wrenching it from the boy’s hands.

The kid was shaking even more now, terror in his eyes as Sonny read him his rights.

A patrol unit arrived barely a minute later, taking control of the scene, but the peace of his Sunday afternoon had already been shattered; adrenaline coursing through him even as he gave his statement and his badge number to the patrol unit.

3.

Sonny had insisted he didn’t want a fuss - was happy to go for a drink with the squad, dinner at his mother’s house. Just another birthday, just another reminder he was getting older, his joints a little achier, his hair a little greyer. But he should’ve known giving Amanda Bella’s number would one day come back to haunt him, because his drinks with the squad had turned into a party that mixed his two worlds, and threw half of his former law school classmates into the pot as well.

He would admit he was enjoying it, though - having almost everyone that mattered the most to him in one room; drinking, laughing, enjoying each other’s company whilst making jokes at his expense.

Although someone seemed to be buying him a drink every thirty seconds, he’d barely managed to actually drink anything, which meant he was still relatively sober when the call came in. He was leaning up against the bar, Amanda at his side just a little closer than she needed to be - Gina standing opposite them with her latest boyfriend talking their ears of about investment banking, when Liv came over to them, a solemn look on her face.

“Sorry to cut this short,” she said, “But we’ve got a case.”

Sonny pushed off from the bar with a sigh, turning to pass Amanda her coat where it was lying beside his.

“Happy Birthday to you,” Amanda said with a wry smile as they shrugged on their coats.

“Told you I didn’t want a fuss,” he countered. He made his way around the bar as quickly as he could, biding goodbye to his friends and family, ignoring the choruses that he couldn’t leave his own party early.

Amanda held back as Fin and Liv left the bar, waiting for him and walking in step with him the few blocks back to the precinct. They were almost there when she stopped him with a hand on his arm, “Hey Carisi.”

“Yeah?”

“Happy Birthday,” she smiled at him and he returned it gratefully. She nodded once before stepping ahead of him, holding the precinct door open for him when they got there; fully disengaged from party mode and ready to throw themselves into whatever darkness Manhattan was bringing their way tonight.

4.

It was their first official date - after Fin’s not-wedding and the kiss he had played on repeat in his head for the last two weeks they had spent as much time together as they possibly could - he now knew the feel of Amanda’s lips on his like kissing her was his sole purpose in life, he knew the touch of her hands, the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled sleepily over at him in the mornings, and it was all beyond what he had let himself imagine - but that didn’t stop him from wanting to make a fuss of her - to take her out for dinner and spoil her a bit - to spend an evening just the two of them, in a way their demanding jobs and her two rambunctious children didn’t often allow for. Sienna hadn’t blinked when they’d asked if she’d stay late on Thursday night - something in her face told him she was happy for them, even if she didn’t say it aloud.

He’d chosen Thursday because trying to schedule anything important at the weekend seemed too much like tempting fate, and so there they were, a quiet evening in a small, family run restaurant that he loved - their fingers intertwined on the table, him trying not to say anything too stupid, given how mesmerised he was by her tonight.

And then her cell phone rang; she released his hand to pull it out of her bag - concerned it might be about the girls, but Sonny’s heart sank as his own phone began to ring barely a second later - Olivia Benson coming up on his caller ID. So much for a night off.

“Hi Liv,” he said, “Everythin’ okay?”

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Liv said, and he wanted to tell her that yes, she was, but that wasn’t how these things worked, so he made a non-committal noise and listened as she told him they needed him at the precinct - that it wasn’t a case that couldn't wait until morning. He could tell from the look on Amanda’s face that she was getting a similar phone call.

They arrived at the precinct ten minutes apart - or rather, Sonny lurked outside for ten minutes after Amanda walked inside - they’d yet to disclose and their first proper date being interrupted was more than enough frustration for one night. When he walked into the bullpen everyone was gathered together, Liv updating them all on the urgent case they’d been called in for - a missing fourteen year old, a suspect in holding who needed a deal to loosen his tongue, and the mayor’s office breathing down their necks because the missing girl was the deputy mayor’s niece.

Amanda had kicked off the heels she’d been wearing earlier - tucked them under her desk and slipped on the old sneakers she kept in her locker - she hadn’t had time to change of out her red dress, though, and from the looks Kat was throwing her way, it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

He got a similar look himself when he approached them, a raised eyebrow as Kat’s gaze moved over the suit he was wearing late on a Thursday evening. Not the same suit he’d been wearing at work earlier that day, “You on a date too, Carisi?” she asked.

“Huh?” Sonny feigned ignorance, his own gaze trailing to Amanda, trying to pretend he hadn’t noticed how beautiful she looked, how much effort she’d gone to - for him.

Liv was impatient; under pressure and not willing to entertain any charades, “Kat,” she said firmly, “Focus.”

Hours later, when the girl and been found and Kat and Fin were escorting the perp to holding, Sonny leaned against Amanda’s desk, ready to head home for a few hours sleep before they had to come back here.

“You can head off, Amanda,” Liv said, walking towards them, her own bag under her arm. “Sorry to have crashed your date.”

“It’s fine,” Amanda said, not meeting Liv’s eye, “I’ll get a rain check.”

Liv looked from Amanda to Sonny and back again, “Well, maybe the two of you can salvage some of the night,” she said, turning away from them, smiling to herself.

5.

Sonny could feel the insistent buzz of his phone in the pocket of his suit jacket, but he was resolutely ignoring it; cursing himself for not having put it on airplane mode before the show started, but knowing he couldn’t pull it out now. Someone wanted to get hold of him really badly - but whoever it was would just have to wait.

He’d taken a last minute half-day to be able to sneak into the auditorium just as the show was about to start, finding Amanda on the aisle and lifting Billie into his lap so that he could claim her seat. Amanda turned to him, a surprised smile on her face, “You got away?”

“Didn’t want to miss it,” he whispered back.

When Jesse had brought home the invitation two weeks ago, Sonny had looked at his trial schedule and found his heart sinking - the Brewer trial - a CEO forcing his unwanted attentions on the high school seniors who took work experience placements at his company - was scheduled for the whole week. He couldn’t pass it off, it was too big a case, and no one was going to let him reschedule a whole trial around his goddaughter / sort-of-stepdaughter’s school talent show.

He’d made a note of the date and time just in case, and he could hardly believe his luck this morning when Buchanan had requested a recess just after 2pm - an absent witness who had yet to be located delaying the case. The judge had glanced at his watch and with a sigh ordered that court would reconvene 9am the next day. It gave Sonny just enough time to call Hadid, explain the delay, and ask if he could take the rest of the day off - all in one breath as he darted from the courthouse, mentally calculating the time it would take to drive up to Jesse’s school. Hadid had reluctantly agreed, just instructed him to keep his phone on, which he had technically done.

He slipped an arm along the back of Amanda’s chair, the other holding Billie steady on his knee as they eagerly waited for Jesse to take the stage. He’d watched her dance with an intense pride - caught the smile on her face when she noticed him and Amanda in the audience, the way she faltered her steps just for a second before rejoining her friends.

His phone continued to buzz; it had been going almost non-stop for at least 10 minutes now, and he was sure the other parents nearby had noticed, based on the looks he was getting. Once Jesse had taken her bow he slid Billie onto Amanda’s lap, “I’m gonna have to take this,” he whispered, and she nodded in understanding - it was a near miracle they’d both managed to be here at all.

There were 27 missed calls on his phone when he slipped out of the auditorium - every single one of them from his boss. “Ms Hadid,” he said when she answered his returned call, awaiting the bite in her tone.

“I told you to keep your phone on, Carisi.”

“I know, I had something I had to do-”

Hadid didn’t entertain excuses, didn’t give him an opportunity to remind her that he’d been allowed to take the half-day, just insisted he return to the DA’s office as soon as possible. New evidence that could shake the trial’s outcome. No time to waste.

He sent an apology message to Amanda before heading out to his car; he was frustrated the whole drive downtown. Some days it felt like there was always one thing after another, like he’d never catch a break whether he was on duty or not. Still, the next several hours spent reformatting trial prep after the latest bombshell were necessary if he wanted to stand a chance of winning this trial. His mind, though, was drifting continually back to Jesse, standing on that stage with a proud grin on her face.

Although both girls were long in bed by the time he got out of work, he still made a stop en route to pick up flowers to give to Jesse in the morning - and when this trial was over he’d make it up to her, take her out for an Uncle Sonny and Jesse dinner to celebrate.

& 1.

Sonny was once again hiding with his father in his parents’ kitchen the night before a wedding, only this time it was his own, and he wasn’t hiding from arguments about hair and makeup, but rather from the intensity of his sisters’ knowing looks, the baby pictures his mother had pulled out and the way she seemed constantly in the brink of tears at the idea of her baby getting married, despite the fact that her baby was comfortably into his forties now.

“I told you,” his dad was saying, sat opposite him at the same kitchen table Sonny had done his homework at for most of his childhood, each of them cradling a glass of scotch, “Your mother worries about you most of all.”

“I’m gettin’ married tomorrow,” Sonny said, “I’ve got two kids, I don’t know what it is she’s got to worry about.”

His father shrugged, taking a long sip of his scotch, “Ah, mothers and sons,” he said, “Kinda like fathers and daughters,” he added, his eyes going to Bella’s wedding portrait hanging up on the wall behind Sonny’s head. The wall was filled with pictures from every moment of the Carisi children’s lives - birthdays, graduations, weddings - although Teresa’s wedding photo had long been replaced with one of the Carisi siblings at the reception - and an empty patch his mother had already cleared for Sonny and Amanda’s wedding photo, another gap just below it ready for a photo of all the Carisi cousins she was hoping to get - Jesse and Billie included. “You’ll get it when they grow up a bit.”

They were interrupted by Gina, once again handing him his phone with a frown on her face, “You can’t run out the night before your own wedding,” she said as he took the phone.

“What harm’d it do?” he argued, though he had absolutely no intention of going back to work, “It’s not like anyone will let me, y’know, see my fiancée.”

“Dominick Carisi Jr,” his mother scolded from the doorway, “It’s bad luck, and don’t the two of you be arrangin’ a work emergency just so you can see each other. I’ll know.”

He laughed, shaking his head as he glanced down at his missed calls - all from Fin - and dialled him back, “Fin, please don’t tell me this is a work call.”

“Okay, I won’t,” Fin said.

“I’m getting married in thirteen hours,” Sonny said, “Whatever it is can wait until I get back from my honeymoon.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Fin mumbled into the phone, “I’m not about to get slaughtered by your bride-to-be. You don’t need to come in,” he added, before launching into the reason for his call - an issue with the ADA covering their cases in Carisi’s absence, a disagreement over something Fin was sure Sonny had already put in place. “I wouldn’t bother you, but I gotta get out here tonight too.”

“You better,” Sonny said, “You’re a groomsman.”

He confirmed Fin’s memory of the deal on the table, offered to call Crosby himself and put the issue to bed. “Nah, I got it,” Fin assured him. “And I’ll be at your folks’ place at 9am sharp.”

Gina reached out a hand for his phone when he hung up, but he kept his fingers wrapped around it, glancing down at the lock screen where Amanda, Jesse and Billie all had wide - ice cream covered, in the girls’ case - grins on their faces. “Nah, I’ll keep it,” he said.

Gina tugged the phone from his hands, the same way she���d taken toys from him when they were young. “No more work calls,” she said, “And Mom says you’re not allowed to call Amanda either.”

“What? I can’t even talk to her now?”

“It’ll be worth the wait, son,” his dad assured him, and he already knew that was true.

And he was right - of course - because thirteen hours later he married the love of his life, surrounded by their family, their friends, their colleagues - no interruptions, just them.

[suituuup]

Could do where Beca actually joined Barden two years later than she should’ve because she initially joined the army, but was sent home after she lost both her legs in a horrific battle. She meets Chloe but is reluctant to have any kind of a relationship because she is so insecure about her body.

so this is what it feels like

rating: m

word count: 3,6k

ao3 link

*

Barden University. 

Beca looks at the sign and heavies a deep sigh as the car rolls forward, stopping at the curb a few minutes later. The driver steps out and takes her wheelchair out of the trunk, setting it up next to the open passenger door. 

“Need any help?” 

“I got it,” Beca mutters, shuffling to the edge of the seat and easily transferring to the chair. “Can you just hand me my bag? Thanks.” 

She sets it on her lap and starts rolling away towards the main building, catching people staring. “What are you lookin’ at?” Beca spits out, glaring at a group of boys who instantly glance away. 

She doesn’t want to be here. She was perfectly happy across the world, working for the Army. She had friends there, a family. A landmine took that away from her, as well as her two legs.

She was flown back to the States after an emergency amputation and moved in with her dad and the step monster. The following year was rough, as Beca dealt with both depression and PTSD. Numerous therapy sessions helped her figure how to live again and slowly dragged her out of her grieving state. She eventually agreed to her dad’s suggestion about going to college, figuring she couldn’t stay hauled up in the house forever. 

She picked English as a major, as she’s sort of a book nerd, but she’s got no idea of what kind of job she wants to do. 

She likes music and enjoys messing around on her computer making mixes but… it won’t ever be good enough for her to actually make a living out of it. 

The first few days of classes are uneventful, except for the way people keep looking at her. Beca figures they’ll get used to it sooner or later, but for now, she glares.  

She hangs out at the library a lot or at the coffee shop on campus to work on her mixes. 

She’s at the library one afternoon, rolling up an aisle to get the book she copied the reference from on one of the computers.

“Damn it,” she mutters when she realizes it’s on one of the higher shelves, which are out of reach. 

“Need any help?”

Normally, Beca would say I got it, because she hates relying on other people, but one, she really doesn’t have it and two, the words die in her throat when she takes a good look at the stranger. 

A redhead, with the most vibrant eyes and smile Beca’s ever seen. 

Her brain eventually reboots and she blushes slightly out of embarrassment for taking so long to reply. “Um yeah. Could you grab me that green book on the top shelf?” 

“Sure thing,” the stranger chirps, standing on the tips of her toes to grab it. “Here you go.”

Beca takes it, setting it on her lap. “Thanks.”

She’s about to roll away, when the girl speaks again. “Would you be interested in joining an acapella group?”

Beca’s eyebrow shoots up. “Aren’t you supposed to be able to dance, too?”

“Not necessarily. I mean, we could figure something out, if you’re interested.”

“I’m not. I don’t— I don’t even sing.”

“Oh. Okay. Too bad.” She winks. “See ya around.”

She continues on her way, and Beca on hers. 

Beca sees her again two weeks later, at the Barden Beanery. She’s stuck outside because the damn automatic door won’t work and of course it’s starting to rain. 

“For fucks sake,” she grumbles, hitting the button once more. 

“I’ll get it for you.”

Beca looks over her shoulder to see that same girl from the library heading over. “Oh. Hey there, acapella nerd,” she teases as she manœuvres her chair to roll into the coffee shop. “Thanks.”

“No worries,” she replies, smiling softly. “Wow, this place is packed.”

Beca nods towards a table in the corner. “I think those guys are leaving.”

“Nice catch. Mind if we share?” 

Beca shrugs. “Yeah, sure.” 

She tucks her chair in the free space at the table and opens her backpack to pull out her laptop, ordering a black coffee and a slice of carrot cake when the waitress comes by. 

She and the redhead work in silence for a while, Beca with her headphones on (one ear left uncovered) as she messes around with her mixes. She soon loses herself into the music, bopping her head up and down to the rhythm.

“What?” She asks when she catches the other girl staring, blue-grey eyes peering at her above her laptop. 

“Nothing,” she murmurs, a serene smile on her features. “I was just wondering what your name was.”

“Oh, right. I’m Beca.”

“Beca,” Chloe repeats, nodding. “I’m Chloe.”

“Cool to meet you, Chloe the nerd.”

“I’m not a nerd!” She cries, laughing.

“You’re in an acapella group, so you’re a nerd by definition.”

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Fine.”

They work together for another hour, Chloe bidding her goodbye when she has to get to rehearsals. Beca sticks around until 7, heading back to her hall to head dinner.

“Hi!” 

Beca looks up to see Chloe popping down on the seat across from her at that same table as three weeks ago. It’s a week later, and the place is near empty this time around, so Beca’s confused as to why she decided to sit with her. 

“Um, hello?” It looks like Chloe’s here to stay, and Beca can’t say she minds? Weird. “You look happy.”

“I am! The Bellas and I are competing this weekend.”

“Competing?” Beca cocks an eyebrow. “So this acapella thing is pretty serious, then?”

“Totes!” Totes? “Our plan is to get selected for the National championships in NYC.”

“Wow. Well, I hope you guys make it.”

“Thanks! You should come check us out if you don’t have anything planned.”

Beca scrunches you her nose. “I don’t know how I feel about being in the same room as so many nerds.”

A laugh flits past Chloe’s lips. “What are you working on anyway?”

“Um, mixes. I mix music.”

Chloe’s eyes adorably pop wider. “You mix music?? That’s so cool. Can I listen?”

The normal Beca would have said no in a heartbeat. She didn’t plan on making any friends, the last year’s events making her more withdrawn and more of a loner. But there’s something about this Chloe, something Beca can’t pinpoint, that makes it impossible for her to say no. 

“Yeah sure, if you want to.”

Beaming, Chloe switches chairs to sit next to Beca as Beca takes off her headphones to hand them over. She selects her Titanium + Bulletproof mashup and hits play, taking a sip from her drink as it starts. 

The look on Chloe’s face as she listens, one of pure enjoyment, makes Beca’s chest swell with something unfamiliar. 

“This is amazing!” Chloe nearly shouts, shrinking in her seat when people’s heads turn towards her. In a lower tone, she adds, “Sorry.”

Beca chuckles. “Yeah? You like it?”

Chloe takes off the headphones. Her eyes are sparkling, the same way Beca’s do when she listens to something she’s really into. “I really do. Have you thought about making a career out of music?”

Beca shrugs. “I did, yeah. I thought about going to LA, but my dad didn’t like that idea because he doesn’t believe there’s a career to be made. He wants me to try college first, for at least a year. I think he’s still pissed about me enlisting in the Army without telling him.” 

“How long were you in the Army for?” 

“Only a couple years,” Beca says, motioning towards her legs next. “Then this happened.” 

Chloe grimaces. “I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah, well…” her shoulder lifts in a half shrug. It took her while to reach that state of mind; to stop being angry at the world for what she was going through. She learned to accept her handicap and to live with it, even if some days prove to be really fucking difficult. “It is what it is.” 

She doesn’t know why, but that weekend, she finds herself attending that acapella competition to check out the Bellas. The songs suck big time and the outfits are questionable, but Beca is too enthralled by Chloe’s beautiful voice to really care about the rest. 

“You came!” Chloe exclaims in surprise when she spots Beca at the end of the show. She’s bending down to hug Beca before Beca can protest, and Beca feels her face heat up as she awkwardly pats her back. 

“Congrats on being selected,” she says when Chloe pulls away, her lips stretching in her first genuine smile in a long while. 

“Thanks! What are you doing later?” 

“Um… nothing planned. Why?” 

“Wanna order pizza and watch something on Netflix?” 

Chloe’s question makes Beca hesitate for a few beats. She truly doesn’t know what Chloe sees in her, as it’s not like Beca has made any efforts to strike up a friendship, but she has to admit that spending time with Chloe is nice. 

“Sure, yeah.” 

The night turns out to be one of the best Beca’s had in a while. She doesn’t remember laughing that much since before, and it’s all thanks to Chloe and her dorky sense of humor and positive energy. They hang out more over the next few weeks, either at the coffee shop or at Beca’s dorm, and Beca quickly develops a crush on her new friend, berating herself as soon as she acknowledges her feelings. 

Even if Chloe does feel the same way, which is unlikely, it’s not like she’d go out with someone like Beca. 

“I need your help,” Chloe blurts one day, plopping down across Beca at their usual table. 

“What’s up?” Beca asks, glancing up from her book. 

“Our set list sucks. There’s no way we’ll make it through to the ICCA’s.” She sighs, then nibbles on her bottom lip for a couple seconds. “I was thinking… maybe you could make us a setlist? We’ll totes pay you.” 

Beca rolls her eyes. “You don’t have to pay me. But would Aubrey be okay with me helping?” 

“She will be, I’ll talk to her.” 

They spend the next few hours brainstorming songs, eating pizza and drinking root beer on the floor of Beca’s room. 

“How ‘bout Don’t You Forget About Me? It’s a cool song,” Beca suggests; they’ve been stuck on the third song for over thirty minutes. “So while a few of you sing the end of Price Tag, the lead could start singing Won’t you, come see about me, I’ll be alone, dancing you know it baby,” Beca sang, faltering when she caught Chloe’s weird look. “What?” 

“You can sing!” She nearly shouts, her jaw dropped as she shoved Beca’s shoulder. “What the fuck, you told me you couldn’t!” 

Beca chuckles. “I was afraid you might harass me if I told you I could,” she pauses, eyeing Chloe. “Am I wrong?” 

Chloe grimaces, blushing slightly. “No. We were really desperate at the start of the year.” She shakes her head. “I can’t believe how good you sound.” 

Embarrassment wrinkles the bridge of Beca’s nose. “I’m pretty rusty. Your voice’s beautiful, though.” 

“Thanks, Becs.” 

They work on the arrangement for another two hours, and just like that it gets past midnight, but it’s done. 

“We did it!” Chloe cheers, throwing her arms up. She hugs Beca tightly, almost making her topple over from the force of it. “You’re the best.” 

“Jesus, Chlo,” Beca laughs, hugging back and momentarily melting into the soothing embrace, kind of never wanting to let go. 

Chloe’s eyes flicker down to her mouth when she pulls away, and Beca barely has time to inhale before Chloe’s lips are on hers, soft and tender and just… right. Beca loses herself into the kiss for a second; a blissful second where her mind goes blank, before her insecurities slam into her brain at once and wrench her out of the liplock. 

“I’m-- I’m sorry, I thought--” 

“Well you thought wrong,” Beca mutters, gaze fastened on her thighs. She can’t. She can’t start something and have Chloe change her mind when she realizes she could do much better than Beca. “Can you go, please?” 

“I… okay.” 

Chloe swallows and hastily gathers her stuff, the door soon clicking shut behind her. 

Beca doesn’t see her for a week; she doesn’t go to the coffee shop, preferring to stay hauled up in her room to work through her frustration. 

A knock at the door cuts through her thoughts one night as Beca is chilling on her bed messing around with more mixes.

“One sec,” she calls out, shuffling to the edge of the mattress and transferring herself into her wheelchair. She rolls to the door and unlocks it, pulling it open as she backs up to make room. Chloe is standing on the other side. “Hey.” 

“Hi,” she says, her greeting uncharacteristically quiet. “Can I come in?” 

Beca nods and backs up some more, waiting for Chloe to slip inside. 

“Aubrey loved the setlist,” she murmurs with a soft, albeit nervous smile. “She says thank you.” 

Beca nods. “That’s good, I’m glad.” 

A sigh puffs past Chloe’s lips. “I’m really sorry about the other day. I shouldn’t-- I shouldn’t have kissed you.” 

Beca wets her lips, finding the courage to meet Chloe’s eyes. “I shouldn’t have snapped. You didn’t do anything wrong, it’s just--” she sighs, struggling to find the right words. 

“Just what?” Chloe presses gently. 

“You don’t-- you don’t want this.” 

Chloe tilts her head to the side. “What are you talking about?” 

“Look at me,” Beca raises her voice, motioning towards her amputated limbs. Tears burn behind her eyes as the frustration that’s been bubbling up inside of her finally bursts out. “I don’t have legs, Chlo! I can’t walk, I can’t dance, I can’t-- do normal person stuff.” 

“Beca…” Chloe whispers, taking a few steps forward and kneeling in front of Beca’s chair. Beca averts her eyes, hating that she’s on the verge of crying. “Look at me,” she coaxes gently, reaching up to cup Beca’s cheek. “It breaks my heart for you that you don’t get to do those things anymore, but it doesn’t change how I feel about you, or the fact that I want to be with you.” 

Beca blinks, the shield surrounding her heart splitting open and vulnerability shining in her eyes. “You… want to be with me?”

Chloe simply smiles. “I thought that was pretty obvious.”

Beca’s eyes flutter shut for a few beats as she puffs out a breath, trying to tame down her insecurities about her body and letting people in in general. 

“Hey,” Chloe murmurs, squeezing her hand. “I don’t want to make you do anything you’re not ready for, alright? If you do feel the same way, we can take it slow. You set the tone.”

Chloe’s words soothe the anxiety swirling in Beca’s belly and her heart swells; she trusts Chloe and her intentions and god, she really wants to be with her, too.

Leaning forward, she cups the side of Chloe’s neck and brushes her lips across hers. Chloe hums, smiling against Beca’s mouth before she kisses back. 

“I’m taking you out on a date tomorrow night,” she says when they eventually pull away. 

Mind still tipped upside down from that kiss, Beca blinks and nods, a dizzy smile spreading across her lips. “Alright, nerd.”

The next few weeks turn out to be amazing as they easily fall into a relationship dynamic. They hang out even more, texting whenever they’re not together. It’s kind of gross, how happy Beca feels, but she figures she deserves it after everything. 

“Can we um— pump on the brakes a little?” She asks breathlessly one evening, squeezing Chloe’s waist as she straddles Beca’s lap.

“Yeah, of course,” Chloe rasps, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I liked that, I just— I’m not there yet.”

She’s terrified Chloe might not find her attractive or worse, be grossed out when she finally sees Beca completely naked. 

“That’s okay,” Chloe assures her, pecking her lips. “You set the tone, remember?”

“Thank you,” Beca murmurs, truly appreciative of Chloe’s selflessness. “Hey, so um, I have my first physical therapy session with my prosthetics next week and uh, I guess I would like it if you could be there?” 

She’s had countless appointments over the last few months to get measurements and fittings for her prosthetic limbs, and she would finally see whether or not she could walk in them next week. While she’s been wary so far about including Chloe to that part of her life, she knows she’ll need someone there for emotional support, and she can’t think of anyone better than her amazing girlfriend. 

Chloe’s eyes widen. “Yeah? That’s exciting!” Softening, she adds, “Of course I’ll be there.” 

Beca is a nervous wreck by the time her appointment comes around. After much internal back and forth about whether she wanted Chloe to be in the room while they set up the prosthetics and for her to see her stumps, Beca eventually figured she would sooner or later anyway.

Chloe doesn’t show any signs of being grossed out once Beca’s pants are off, and she even grabs Beca’s hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles, as though reading Beca’s mind and guessing she needed some sort of reassurance. 

Once the technician slipped the sleeves and liners on Beca’s residual limbs, she straps the prosthetics on. “How does that feel?”

“So far so good.”

“Alright, ready to take some steps?” 

Anticipation and slight nerves swirl in Beca’s guts as she nods, moving her wheelchair in front of the metal bars. She puts the brakes on and with the technician’s help, rises to her feet. 

Her trembling hands reach for the bars as the technician holds onto her waist with a belt in case she loses her balance. 

“Let’s try a couple stationary steps first,” she advises, and Beca manages to lift one foot after the other, familiarizing herself with the feeling. “Great job. Let’s try a couple steps?” 

Beca nods, exhaling slowly and gripping the bars tighter as she moves her right foot ahead, then her left. It’s wobbly and the sockets are a bit uncomfortable, but she knows it’s just a question of getting used to. Tears sting her eyes because she’s walking again, and while she knows the road ahead is still long, she also knows she’s going in the right direction. 

“Doing okay?” The other woman asks as Beca takes another two steps. 

“Yeah, I just need a small break.” It’s much more exhausting than she thought, sweat beading on her forehead already. 

Chloe’s grinning from ear to ear when Beca glances back at her. “You’re walking, babe.” 

“Yeah,” Beca exhales with a disbelieving laugh. “I won’t take you out dancing right away, but someday.”

Someday. 

Chloe takes her out for a celebratory dinner after and once they’re back to Beca’s dorm and on her bed to watch something on Netflix, Beca doesn’t reach for her computer, capturing Chloe’s lips in a yearning kiss instead. 

Their make out session quickly turns hot and heavy, and Beca whips her top over her head at some point, staring at Chloe with darkened eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“I love you,” Beca murmurs instead, cradling Chloe’s cheek tenderly. “I’m so sure.”

Chloe’s eyes soften, and a dazzling smile spreads across her lips as she kisses Beca. “I love you, too.”

Time slows down after that as they explore this new window in their relationship, and Beca doesn’t feel one bit uncomfortable about her appearance, not when Chloe is showering her body with so much love. 

The next couple months are pretty much perfect. Chloe and the Bellas win the ICCA’s, Beca continues making progress in physical therapy, to the point where she’s able to walk short distances with just the help of a cane. 

On Chloe’s graduation day, she shows up not in her wheelchair but on her feet, intending on surprising her girlfriend, who has no idea she got that far. She spots Chloe talking with her family across the room after the ceremony and slowly but surely makes her way over, gripping the bouquet of flowers in her right hand tighter as nerves over meeting Chloe’s parents sprout in her belly. 

“Oh my god,” Chloe croaks, her eyes widening and a bright smile lighting up her features when she finally sees Beca. 

“Hey you,” Beca greets with a lopsided grin, laughing softly when Chloe shakes her head in awe and tucks herself into her arms. Beca inhales her scent, closing her eyes as she basks in the closeness. “Congratulations. I’m so fucking proud of you.” 

Chloe kisses her softly, taking the bouquet from her to slip her hand into Beca’s now free one and gently tugging her to the older pair. 

“You must be Beca,” Chloe’s dad says, his eyes the same vibrant blue as his daughter’s as he extends his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

“You too, sir,” Beca replies, accepting the handshake. 

“Please, call me Mike.” 

“And I’m Alice,” Chloe’s mom introduces herself next, her smile warm and genuine. 

“You’re joining us for lunch, right?” Mike asks, offering a matching smile. 

Beca smiles and her heart warms, not having expected an invitation. “Um, yeah, sure. I’d love to.” 

Chloe kisses Beca’s cheek once her parents start to make their way to the car, walking slowly to match Beca’s pace. 

“What?” Beca asks when she notices Chloe is staring at her profile. 

“Nothing,” Chloe murmurs, squeezing Beca’s hand. “I’m just really happy.” 

The Beca from a year ago would have never thought she’d know what it felt like; to be loved and loving someone like she did Chloe. Yet, here she is, the happiest she’s ever been, and she’s got the feeling it’s just starting. 

“Me, too.” 

[beca-mitchell]

Summary: Beca and Chloe’s friends with benefits situation takes an unexpected turn when they try to get some time alone in the Bellas house. Set during PP2. Written for @bechloe-week!

Word count: 3,110

Notes: cracky fluffy nonsense born out of a dumb tiktok that chloe sent me. unbeta'd.

* * * * *

Read below or on AO3.

This is easy.

It is easy, waking up in Chloe’s arm and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips as to not fully disturb her from her slumber. The more selfish part of Beca, however, kind of wants Chloe to wake up because it makes Beca’s own waking state that much more enjoyable.

(Like sunshine after the storm. Something dumb like that. It’s gross, really.)

Easy is the sharp rap on Chloe’s door letting Chloe know that she’s finally done with that painful mash-up she had been slaving over for The Bellas’ upcoming Kennedy Center performance. The knock that lets Chloe know that she’s free and ready to cash in on a fairly new arrangement—an arrange not of the musical kind.

How it began was surprisingly easy too.

It had started innocently enough—as innocent as friends with benefits can be—just before they had started up school again for the winter semester. Alone in the large, sprawling Bellas house with nothing much to do, fresh off her third break-up (and this time it felt final) with Jesse, Beca had begun to tap (re-tap?) into the long-buried feelings she had harboured for Chloe, though she had framed it as an attraction, pent-up sexual frustration, and lack of satisfaction in her own life in and out of the bedroom.

“Attracted to me?” Chloe chirped, sounding and looking very much like the cat that had gotten the cream. “All this time?” Chloe had said all of this with a smile both sweet and sinful that it should have been illegal. She had also said it so knowingly and yet, incredibly kindly that Beca hadn’t really been embarrassed. Mostly just surprised. A scowl-y kind of surprised.

“No,” Beca had lied and pressed her lips against Chloe’s with reckless abandon.

The words, God, Beca was bad with words, had been painful the next day. Beca’s half-hearted explanation that it felt like a mistake; that Chloe deserved better than somebody who could barely commit to a long-term boyfriend...let alone whatever this was. Is.

Chloe, despite her tired disappointment and hurt written all over her face, had simply brought her sheets back up to her shoulders and looked away in quiet agreement. It had, however, been Chloe’s idea that if they ever found themselves in a similar situation again—where one needed nothing more than release and pleasure—they should rely on each other.

Beca had agreed. Easy, she had thought. Piece of cake.

* * * * *

“Amy’s spending the night at Bumper’s,” Chloe comments casually. Beca startles from where she had been bent over the kitchen counter, intently studying her textbook. “And probably the rest of the week.”

“Oh,” Beca replies, unsure if Chloe wants her to say anything in particular. She watches the back of Chloe’s head as she rummages through the fridge. She likes the way the harsh kitchen light seems to make Chloe’s hair look even prettier even though it always manages to make Beca look like an unwashed zombie. “That’s nice.”

“And Jessica and Ashley are spending the night at their study session.”

“Hm.”

“And Flo’s—” Chloe shuts the door suddenly, spinning to face Beca with an amused expression. “Beca. Do you really not know where I’m going with this?”

Beca’s eyebrows creep up her forehead. “I’m…” She pauses. “I—yes! Okay. Right. Um. Tonight?” she tries awkwardly. “Your room? Or—mine?”

Chloe giggles and rounds the kitchen island so she can spin Beca’s seat. Expertly, Chloe pushes her legs apart and moves to stand in between them, like she absolutely belongs there.

Beca resists the urge to immediately grab Chloe’s hips, interested in where this might go if she resists a little bit longer.

“Your room sounds like a good idea since it’ll be empty. You know I love your bed.”

“My bed’s smaller than yours.”

“Exactly,” Chloe whispers before she leans in all the way to steal a kiss from Beca’s waiting mouth.

It is so incredibly easy to lose herself in Chloe’s touch and her kisses. For a moment, Beca forgets that they are in the middle of a brightly-lit kitchen in the middle of the day and this is still a well-kept secret between them. For whatever reason, she still doesn’t know. All she knows is that she simply needs to have Chloe now—or at least soon, so she appeases herself with the knowledge that she gets to have Chloe tonight and she gets to taste Chloe on her tongue—all of her—and she gets to—

“Hm,” Chloe hums, pulling back. She smiles a wickedly innocent smile and thumbs Beca’s lower lip where a smudge of tinted lipgloss lingers. “Save some for tonight. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too,” Beca echoes faintly as Chloe makes her way out of the kitchen. Beca barely has time to collect herself when the kitchen is suddenly filled with Amy’s raucous laughter and the chatter of Flo, Cynthia-Rose, and Jessica, very much disrupting Beca’s previously-quiet study spot.

Chloe always has the most perfectly imperfect timing. Beca kind of hates her for it.

Kind of.

(It's too easy to just not hate anything Chloe does. Quite the opposite, really.)

* * * * *

Things spiral very quickly in the next hour or so. Jessica and Ashley’s study session is cancelled. Amy and Bumper break up (again). Flo’s night class is cancelled.

“What the fuck,” Beca hisses, cornering Chloe in her ensuite bathroom when she sees Chloe slip in. She shuts the door behind her. “Did you hear all of that? All their crap being cancelled or whatever?”

Chloe pouts at her in the mirror, rinsing her hands under the faucet. “I know.”

Beca grumbles to herself, still thinking of the kiss Chloe had given her just over an hour ago. It had barely been enough to tide her over until the next time she and Chloe manage to wrangle away some time alone.

“You’re so cute when you don’t get your way,” Chloe says happily. She turns, moving to push Beca against the opposite wall. “We’re alone now,” she whispers, suddenly so close to Beca that Beca can count every slight freckle across Chloe’s nose.

“I’m not…” Beca gives up trying to deny anything Chloe says. It’s something she has learned over time. Slowly, she grins, lifting her hands to grab Chloe’s hips and pull her closer so they’re pressed together more intimately. “Hey, look at us…”

“Look at us,” Chloe repeats. She tilts her head forward, nipping sharply at Beca’s lower lip before pausing as if to see if Beca is willing.

Beca tugs at her hips again, leaning towards Chloe’s face again to request another kiss—another firm press of Chloe’s lips against hers. Chloe must have reapplied her lipgloss in the past hour because she tastes sweet again—sweeter than usual—and irresistible as usual. Ever since they began fooling around—ever since their first kiss—Beca has craved more and more of Chloe’s kisses. There is something very intoxicating about the way Chloe kisses her. Chloe’s kisses are simultaneously a gentle caress and a heated embrace all at once.

Chloe’s hand creeps up the back of Beca’s shirt, deftly unhooking her bra when she reaches it, then swiftly, her hand moves around to cup Beca’s breast boldly, slipping under the fabric of the bra. Beca gasps against Chloe’s mouth, only to feel Chloe’s tongue against her lower lip for the briefest of moments before it slips inside her mouth. Chloe’s hand flexes around her breast, palm pressing against her stiff nipple.

“Please,” Beca rasps, tilting her head back against the wall. “I need you.”

“I know,” Chloe coos. She lifts her free hand—the one not actively groping Beca—to grasp Beca’s jaw firmly, but gently. She pulls Beca’s head back towards her own, breath hot against Beca’s mouth as she does so. “How much do you need me right now, Bec?” She says it so conversationally that Beca thinks they really could be talking about a Bellas set or the weather. She says it as if her fingers aren’t currently plucking at her nipple sinfully and her hand isn’t holding Beca’s jaw in place like she knows exactly what devastation she wants to inflict upon Beca at that moment.

“So much,” Beca replies obediently. She shifts, her legs still pressed together uncomfortably. She doesn’t need to check—she knows she’s soaked and ready to go. If she could just—if Chloe could just slip one of her legs between her own…

Chloe brushes her thumb against Beca’s lower lip, eyes darkening when Beca’s tongue flicks out to lick Chloe’s thumb, welcoming her thumb into her mouth. Beca tries not to close her eyes entirely, but the haze of arousal and lust that pass over her overwhelms her for a moment then Chloe’s thumb slips into her mouth entirely.

“You’re so desperate,” Chloe murmurs.

Beca wonders, briefly, what the other Bellas would say if they knew exactly what their co-captains got up to in their free time. If they knew that Chloe knew exactly which buttons to press to make Beca scream. If they knew that Beca knew Chloe’s body intimately and incredibly well—that she had memorized marks on Chloe’s on body more than she had memorized choreography.

“You’ve been teasing me all week,” Beca mumbles. Chloe draws her hand away, eyes lighting in sympathy. It looks real to Beca, but she knows how much Chloe gets off on prolonging Beca’s pleasure. Evil.

“I guess I have. You’re just so—”

“—If you say cute, I will throw myself out the window.”

Chloe smirks, one definitely stolen from Beca’s handbook. “I was going to say…” she trials a finger down Beca’s neck, down her chest, all the way to the button of Beca’s jeans. She pops the button slowly. “Sexy.” Zipper down. Music to Beca’s ears. “Hot.”

“Okay,” Beca agrees, forgetting that she had just been mildly annoyed. Her eyes nearly cross when Chloe pulls down her jeans and underwear in one move and push her legs apart.

“You’re soaked,” Chloe says sympathetically. She flicks out her tongue to swipe some of the wetness streaked between Beca’s thighs. Then again, flicking against Beca’s clit.

“Shh,” Beca urges, hand tangling against Chloe’s hair. She groans, looking down at the top of Chloe’s head as Chloe, to the best of her ability, begins licking and sucking around her aching center. She only grows wetter at the distinct sound of Chloe clearly enjoying herself through quiet moans and whimpers. The very slight sounds travel through Beca distinctly, shooting through her with an intensity she hadn’t imagined before.

“You be quiet,” Chloe instructs, lifting her head briefly.

“Yeah,” Beca agrees, in a normal tone. “Yes,” she moans, uncaring as Chloe lifts one leg over her shoulder to have better access.

Chloe’s hand comes up to smack the side of her thigh. “Beca,” she warns. She glances up again and the sight sends desire rocking through Beca again as she catches the slight glistening across Chloe’s lips and chin.

“Yeah,” Beca croaks. “Sorry, I’ll—” She gasps, a high-pitched sound, when Chloe’s lips wrap around her clit again. She claps a hand over her mouth, head tilting back and hitting the wall again. She can’t feel much other than the press of Chloe’s lips and tongue against her aching cunt. Can’t feel much other than each pass of Chloe’s tongue against her. Can’t feel much other than how she throbs and aches and wants to draw Chloe all the way inside her.

But she can come like this, she tells herself. She can. She will. She hasn’t gotten off in over a week, a difficult feat now that she relies almost entirely on Chloe for her pleasure. Her own hands don’t compare to Chloe’s hands. Or Chloe’s tongue. Or her lips.

A strangled sound escapes Beca’s lips just as she’s on the cusp of the high she desperately seeks. Chloe’s hand creeps across her thigh, as if Chloe is about to bring her hands into the fray. Her fingers. “Yes,” Beca whispers. “Please, please—”

She crashes. Or wait. She doesn’t. She can’t.

The door—there is somebody at the door.

“Hey! I really need to go and the other bathrooms are being used! Are you almost done, Chloe?”

“Fuck,” Beca says loudly. Chloe slaps a hand over her mouth.

“Beca?” Amy’s confused voice sounds through the door. “This is Chloe’s bathroom.”

Chloe scrambles up and away from Beca, swiping the back of her hand against her mouth hastily. “Um…” Her eyes widen, panicked and unsure. “I was just, um. Helping Beca with this…”

Beca quickly pulls up her jeans, wincing at how uncomfortably wet she feels. But that isn’t even the worst part. It’s how dissatisfied she is. How she feels like she’s been literally robbed of what she deserves. Fucking Amy.

“Fuck,” Beca mutters. Raising her voice, she clears her throat. “She was just helping me with this thing...on my back,” she trails off, shrugging at Chloe’s wide-eyed expression. I’m sorry, Chloe mouths.

Chloe hastily moves to wash her hands again as Beca, now presentable, unlocks the door. Amy rushes past them, making a beeline for the toilet. “Thank God!” Amy exclaims, clearly uncaring that both Beca and Chloe are still there.

“Dude, what the fuck! Wait for us to leave!”

“As if you haven’t seen it all before, dear roommate.”

* * * * *

This was supposed to be easy.

Beca tries not to pout—she really does—but Chloe has riled her up over the past two days now and they still haven’t managed to find time alone. When she and Chloe agreed to this whole friends with benefits thing, Beca hadn’t thought there would be so much waiting. She had kind of assumed that whenever either of them needed to scratch their itch, the other would be there (barring personal reasons or timing, obviously), but this is kind of getting ridiculous.

Chloe is holed up in her room, working on a paper. She had effectively banned Beca from her room, citing the need to focus, and had sent Beca to spend time with somebody else, as if Beca was nothing more than a mere child in Chloe’s periphery.

“Chloe kick you out?” Cynthia-Rose asks sagely.

Beca startles, having been too busy staring angrily at the wall behind the television to notice that somebody had sat next to her on the couch. “No, why would she kick me out? I didn’t even see her today. Why? Did she say something to you?”

“She kicked me out too,” C-R says slowly, peering suspiciously at Beca’s face. “Just thought you guys were supposed to be working on our set or something today. But she said she had a paper due.”

“Oh,” Beca murmurs. “Well. Yeah...that’s what happened. Totally.”

“Want to watch a movie?”

Beca shrugs, having given up her hatred of movies a while ago (part of it due to Chloe’s influence and the pleasant activities that usually followed a private movie session in Chloe’s room). “Whatever you want to watch is cool.”

She ends up fiddling with her phone and half-focusing on the movie. To distract herself from the very distinct lack of sex she’s been having, she begins brainstorming songs to mash-up for an upcoming Bellas appearance and performance. If she and Chloe were supposed to be working together on something, she might as well figure out something so it seems like they haven’t just been fucking around.

To save face and all.

Ding!

Beca frowns, seeing a notification come in across the top of her screen. It is an image attachment from Chloe. Without looking at the image preview, Beca taps into the message lazily, wondering what Chloe could possibly say to her after leaving her high and dry.

Beca chokes on air, eyes widening upon seeing the very explicit nude she has just received from Chloe herself. Nothing left to the imagination.

Chloe Beale come here

Right. Okay. Fuck you too, Chloe Beale.

Beca tosses her phone on the couch and all but gets ready to sprint to Chloe’s bedroom. She doubles back however, grabbing her phone, realizing belatedly that maybe the photo isn’t necessarily something that anybody (Amy) needs to find accidentally.

“Fuck,” Beca mutters, nearly tripping up the stairs as she goes. Chloe is only on the second floor, but she has her own separate landing from the other girls, her own private room. Perks of being a super senior. She sheds the hoodie she had been wearing, haphazardly tossing it into a random hamper she passes on the way. She can do her part in speeding up the process.

She is about to shed her shirt entirely when she stumbles, yelping and she tumbles headfirst, slamming her head against the railing and nearly falling back down the stairs.

She drops her phone down the stairs as she does so, cursing all the while as pain rushes through her. Immediately, the sound of footsteps sound from all around her and voices call out, concerned and panicked all at once.

“Beca!” Chloe exclaims, first one on the scene. “Shit, are you okay?”

“Holy crap, what happened?” Flo asks. “Why is your shirt half-off?”

Gentle hands tug her shirt into place. Beca blinks up at the concerned, blurry expressions all around her.

“She should go to the ER,” Cynthia-Rose says, but Beca catches a hint of laughter in her voice. “Whatever she got on her phone sent her running. But clearly she needs to be more careful.”

“I’ll take her to the hospital,” Chloe chimes in. “Stacie? Go get Beca’s phone and her wallet. The rest of you wait in the living room with her while I go get dressed.”

“No,” Beca moans out before she can stop herself. “I’m fine,” she whines. “Get off me.”

“She hit her head,” Chloe says quickly. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying. We’ll probably come back late tonight. I don’t know how long this will take.”

“Maybe all night,” Amy suggests helpfully. “We’ll keep an eye on her, captain.”

“Yeah we should probably cycle shifts when they get back...she could have a concussion.”

“Have you ever had a concussion before?”

“Beca, what is your sweater doing in my hamper?”

Beca groans as the Bellas help her down the stairs.

She is never going to have sex again at this rate.

Still.

Her eyes lift as Chloe appears in front of her again, concern written all over her face. She smiles, a tender and kind expression, at Beca before holding out her hand for Beca to take. “Come on,” Chloe whispers.

Maybe this whole part—being cared for by another person—it really isn’t so bad.

fin.

[cenestpasmoi-bechloe]

Wherever you may go, wherever you may be, I will never be far away

Beca has been exhausted with work and overtime in order to provide nice things for Chloe, and pay the bills, etc. When Beca comes home at around 11pm, she finds Chloe curled up on the couch after attempting to wait for Beca. Beca becomes very very soft. :)

Title from Billy Joel's Lullabye (Goodnight My Angel).

Thank you to the anonymous donor for participating in the Pitch Perfect Fandom Drive! This fic is gifted from anon to @green-eyed-weirdo on Tumblr.

Thank you for contributing! Also, happy belated birthday to @green-eyed-weirdo !

I hope you enjoy it and I apologize for taking so long!!

For more info on how to help, visit the @ppfandomdrive page.

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Beca is exhausted. She’s been working her ass off at Capital records, trying to make a name for herself, and to provide for her small family of three.

Her girlfriend Chloe, herself, and their newest addition, their rescue puppy they had named Chase, because of how he had chased Beca around the first time she saw him. He was a mix of a Collie and something else they couldn’t figure out, but he was the cutest dog ever. At least that was what Chloe had said, and Beca had come to understand it.

But she would never admit that to Chloe. But that dog was damn adorable.

They live in a nice 2 bedroom apartment in Pomona, CA where Chloe can go to Vet school, at Western University of Health Sciences, and Beca can commute to her office.  Chloe has two more years of school, and she’s going to become a Vet after that, but while she goes to school, Beca is the main source of income. They weren’t broke, but they weren’t rich either, and they tried their best to keep it that way. Chloe worked at a Veterinary Clinic near the school, and helped pay the apartment rent. Although Beca had insisted that she didn’t have to, Chloe had somehow convinced her. And Beca couldn't say no to Chloe Beale.  

They had started dating after the USO tour, after Beca had gotten signed to Capitol, and Chloe had been accepted into WesternU, when Beca finally decided to sack up and tell the ginger her feelings.

Their move to California was scheduled around the same time, and having lived in Brooklyn together before, and having started dating, they had mutually decided that moving-in together was a good idea. Her workplace was not too far from where Chloe was going to go to school, and it being cheaper to live in a bigger apartment in Pomona than being crammed in a small apartment in Hollywood, they had chose to live near WesternU. They had started out living in different rooms at first, but found themselves sleeping better, and much more comfortable together in Beca’s room, and they had transferred Chloes old room into a guest room/Beca’s studio when she needed to work from home, or she wanted to work from home.

Beca usually has work with her clients until 7pm, then edit and work on other things until around 10 and then finally, head home. The drive was about 30 minutes, 45 minutes tops, and she would get home at around 11. She had her days off on Wednesdays, and Saturdays and Sundays were half days, or she would sometimes have the weekends off. She always tried to spend more time with Chloe, and she tried to keep a no-work-at-home policy although there were exceptions. That was easy since she had a girlfriend who she could barely say no to.

Tonight was one of those late nights.

The wifi stopped working, and then there was the printer jamming incident, and then had to make sure her emails were sent to her boss about the new client. She finishes up around a quarter to 11, and she gets in her car, sending a quick text to Chloe, telling her that she’d be heading home now. She doubted that she was still awake though since when she gets home at 10:30, she’s usually getting ready for bed, and on days like this, she’s usually fast asleep on Beca’s side of the bed. She drives home, and gets home at about a quarter past 11.

She unlocks the door quietly, and then opens the door slowly, making sure she doesn’t wake up Chloe, who is probably in another room. She just wanted to be safe, just in case. And then Chase comes trotting over to the door, welcoming her home.

“Shhhh… don’t wake mommy up okay?” She says as she crouches down to pet the puppy.

She sees that the light is still on in the room and looks up, seeing her girlfriend curled up on the couch, asleep.

She’s wearing Beca’s gray Bellas sweater, the one that was originally Chloe’s, she stole it somewhere around her sophomore year when she started living in the Bellas house. She had declared that it was hers now, and Chloe had allowed her to keep it all through the years, and now, Chloe’s back to wearing it again. She smiles, walks to the couch, and sits on the floor to kiss the ginger’s cheek.

“I’m home baby.” She says cupping her cheek and kissing her on the lips.

Chloe flutters open her eyes, and wakes up, looking sleepy as heck as she looks at Beca. “I was waiting for you to come home. “She yawns and stretches, rubbing her sleepy eyes.

“Sorry I’m late. I was supposed to leave earlier, but a lot of things happened, I can explain tomorrow. “ She smiles and pecks Chloe’s forehead.

“It’s okay. Did you have dinner?” The ginger asks her as she sits up and stretches her arms.

“No. But I’m not that hungry though.”

“Becaaaaa…. you have to eattttt…”Chloe says to her as she gets up. “I have some leftovers I can heat up.”

“No it’s fine. I’m fine. I’m gonna take Chase out before I get ready for bed. Wait for me in bed?” She asks the ginger, getting up and leaving her bag and taking her jacket off, leaving it on the couch. “Chase. Let’s go out. Bathroom time. “ She says to the dog and he runs to the door excitedly.

“Okay fineee, but I’m coming with you two. I don’t wanna be left behind.” She says with a pouty face as she grabs the leash off the hook.

“Okay then, let’s go.” She takes the leash from the ginger, and connects it to Chase’s collar. “Mommy’s coming with us too.”She smiles, holding onto the leash. Chase jumps up and down excitedly, “I know bud, I’m happy that she’s coming with us too.”She says to the pup and pats him on the head.

“Let’s go!” The redhead returns to the living room, and they both walk out the door, letting Chase mark his territory around the complex, while Chloe and Beca talk about their day, holding hands and walking together.

“Jill keeps texting her boyfriend at work, and she’s always on her phone. I don’t understand how she still has a job.”Beca giggles as she talks about her day.

“I’m sure you’re like that sometimes, I swear, sometimes my phone doesn’t stop vibrating with texts from you.”The redhead jokes, holding Beca’s spare hand which isn’t holding Chase’s leash. The summer breeze makes it a bit chilly, and Chloes glad that she wore her hoodie.

“Oh, I’m not that bad!” Beca exclaims in her quiet nighttime voice, “But I also can’t resist my girlfriend sending me sexy snaps in the middle of the day.”She smirks, squeezing the gingers hand for a moment. Beca had to make sure she had set her notifications to be private, she had that one incident when she almost showed her girlfriend on Airplay at a work meeting. From then on, she knew to keep her notifications discreet. She didn’t need anyone seeing her messages. “I swear to god I almost died when I accidentally opened my Snapchat from you during a meeting. I made it just in time but that was so dangerous.”

“That was because you sent me a raunchy text baby. It’s all your fault. “Chloe scoffs.

“I could’ve been fired!” She whisper yells, raising both her occupied arms up.

“Oh stop exaggerating!”The ginger laughs.

"Oh I'm totally getting back at you for that time!"She jokingly says, pointing at Chloe. "I'm gonna do something to make you so horny that you'll have to take a break, no take the day off!"

"Oh, try. You'll never be able to do that. Remember who always loses the no touching challenge?"

"..um... you?..."

"Oh you wish."Chloe giggles, kissing her nose and running ahead of them. "You can't catch me!!"

"H-Hey!! Chloooooo!"Beca follows along with Chase, but it looks like Chase is taking poor Beca on a run.

“Hey Bec?” Chloe says as they make their way back into the house, unhooking Chase’s leash off of him and letting him run inside.

“Huh?”Beca looks at the ginger, closing the door behind and then making sure it’s locked.

“I love you.”She says, her smile soft and genuine.

These are the moments that make Beca’s heart pound like crazy. Like how did she deserve this angel? How? “I love you too.” She repeats back, kissing the ginger and wrapping her arms around her. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”she mumbles into Chloes shoulder as they awkwardly toddle over to the couch and fall onto it.

“Everything Bec. You’re amazing. I wonder if I ever deserve you. You spoil me too much baby. “She chuckles as she kisses her forehead.

“And you tease me too much.”Beca jokes, and she earns a light slap from the ginger. “Heyyy! Thats not fair!”

“Its fair alright, I tease you because you’re just too damn adorable.”

“Am not! I’m not adorable! I’m badass!” She says as she tries to pry herself away from Chloe, but her girl is too strong, making her stuck in Chloe’s embrace.

“Okay, okay, whatever you say cutiehead.”She giggles, kissing her right on the cheek.

“Ugh, I hate you.”Beca pouts jokingly.

“You do not hate me. Exaggerator!”She kisses her cheek again, this time much more like a wet-grandma-like kiss.

“Ewwwwww… you kiss like a grandma! My cheek is wet!”Beca complains, wiping it off with her arm.

“Want me to do it again?”Chloe asks, going in for the kiss again, but Beca’s hand stops it from reaching her cheek. “Noooooooooh!” Her lips get closer again.

“I don’t hear a please Beca.”Chloe teases, getting even closer.

“NOooooooh!”

“C’mon Beca. Just one word baby.”

“Okay fine! Please stop!” Beca gives up and Chloe’s lips retrieves.

“See? That wasn’t so hard? Was it Beca? When you’re a good girl, you get your way, or can get things faster.”She winks. “But when you’re a bad girl, you don’t get your way, and sometimes you can get more pain or teasing from it. “She lowers her hand down to Beca’s ass and squeezes it, making Beca wince. She had been a bad girl in bed last Saturday, and the pain was much better but its still hurt a bit. But that story’s for another day.

“Can we go to bed? I’m really tired. Like exhausted.”Beca asks her girlfriend, looking up at her with pouty eyes.

“Okay. Let’s get to bed, really tired. I don’t know where my Beca went though.”She jokes and giggles, taking her hand and leading her to the bedroom.

“Its almost 12. Which means it’s already tomorrow, and now we don’t have anymore time to sleep…”Beca mumbles as she walks into the closet and gets changed into her pajamas, an oversized teeshirt, which is of corse Chloe’s, and plops down on the bed.

“You’re okay. C’mere baby.”Chloe says as she lifts the comforter up and slides in, waiting for Beca to do the same.

Beca yawns as she gets in and curls up close to Chloe, her bing the little spoon and Chloe being the big spoon. “I love you.” She closes her eyes, and lets Chloe wrap her body around hers, feeling safe and comfortable.

“You’re quite the over thinker, aren’t you baby.”Chloe chuckles as she peppers kisses all over Beca’s head, and then starts running her fingers through Beca’s hair, allowing her to relax.

“But it’s true though, i.....”

“Shh… baby. Stop talking and calm down.” The ginger says gently and kisses her head once again.

Beca’s train of thoughts don’t stop though,she stops talking but the thoughts in her mind keep running, and she can't seem to stop them. She thinks about how perfect her life is, with Chloe and Chase, and how she want to pop the question soon. How she's gonna do that, what say to ask Stacie to help her pick the engagement ring, and then how the wedding is gonna be, how she's gonna tell the Bellas, and on and on and on and....

“Beca. Turn off your thoughts. I can still hear the gears turning.”Chloe says.

"I'm no...."

"Save the questions and the thoughts for another day Becs. " She rubs her arm.

“Mkay….night...”Beca mumbles, turning and facing Chloe’s body, curling up once again as she rubs her back.

It can wait another day.

She soon relaxes and lets sleep take over, feeling safe and sound in Chloe’s arms.

Chloe kisses the sleeping brunette's head for the last time before she falls asleep.

“Good night, my angel.”

[allicekitty13]

With Friends Like These

Read On Ao3

Read On FFN

Alice is forced to spend Thanksgiving with her father's family for the first time since he and her mother were divorced four years ago. Can an emotionally exhausting day be improved when she runs into Jasper and Rosalie while Black Friday shopping?

Part 2 of Jalice- Holidays an ongoing on short stories taking place on every holiday/special day of the year. I want to make sure everyone’s favorite day is included so feel free to send me a message if there’s a day you’d like to see on the list <3

It was the most uncomfortable Thanksgiving Alice had experienced since the divorce. She hadn't wanted to come, begged her mother to let her celebrate the holiday with The Cullen's as she usually would have and allowing Cynthia to travel to their father's residence in Seattle alone. Alice wasn't a big fan of thanksgiving. Still, spending it with her Aunt Esme, Uncle Carlisle, and even her moody overdramatic cousin Edward would have been much preferable to being stuck with her father's side of the family all day.

The morning had been spent with Anna-Marie, her soon to be step-mother who'd made it a goal to bond with the girls. They'd baked multiple pies and prepared enough side dishes to feed a small army. It was rather bothersome how, despite tearing her family apart, the woman desperately wanted to be a part of Alice and Cynthia's lives. She'd spent quite some time that morning trying to convince the youngest Brandon to call her 'mom.' If this was a day for being thankful, Alice would count the girl's outright refusal as one of the few blessings of the day.

The woman's awkward efforts at girl talk as they paid half-attention to the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade were almost tolerable compared to the silent treatment Alice had received from her Aunt and uncle. From the moment they had arrived, their father's sister and her husband had pointedly ignored Alice's presence going out of their way to shower little Cynthia with adoration while pretending Alice wasn't there.

In all honesty, as she sat pushing around the turkey, mashed potatoes, and stuffing on her plate, she decided that having people pretend you didn't exist was much preferable to the barrage of questions her grandparents threw her way. They wanted to know about her grades, where was she planning on going to school after graduation, did she have a boyfriend.

Alice didn't want to answer any of these inquiries. Her response about her mediocre grades in English and history earned her a look of satisfaction from where her Aunt sat across the table. She didn't have an answer to the other questions having no current plans to go to university.

The boyfriend question, in particular, gave her pause. She'd been seeing Jasper Whitlock casually since Halloween when he'd finally confessed his mutual crush. She was enjoying the relationship, letting a sweet smile slip at the thought of the boy, but they hadn't had that conversation yet. She couldn't honestly say if he was her boyfriend or not, though she was definitely open to the idea.

In response to her grandparents, she had offered a simple no. Even if she did have a legitimate answer to their question, in all reality, it was none of their business. Over the past four years, there hadn't been a single birthday card; they hadn't given Alice or Cynthia so much a birthday card. Every one of the relatives on her mother's side already knew all the answers to these questions, had her grandparents made any effort to remain in her life after the divorce, they would as well.

The barrage of questions, the silent treatment of her Aunt and uncle, Anna-Marie's ever frequent attempts to include her in conversation, and of course, the dirty looks her father kept shooting her way was almost too much to handle. She wanted to yell at her grandparents to shut up, to stand up and storm away from the table, to hop in her car and drive straight back to Forks. But as she looked to where Cynthia was sitting on her grandfather's lap sharing a piece of pumpkin pie, she knew she had to stick it out as always Alice needed to be the adult. In due time, Cynthia would learn the cruelties of the Brandon family. For now, it was best to sit back and allow her younger sibling to enjoy the innocence of her youth.

With an internal sigh and a quick glance at her watch, curious as to how much longer she would have to endure her extended family Alice turned her attention back to her grandparents. She continued to politely answer the increasingly invasive questions as she waited for the meal to end when she could go upstairs to her old room and hopefully contact some of her friends over Zoom. The thought of flirting with Jasper, explaining the complexities of contouring to Bella, or discussing baseball with Emmett was enough to keep her powering through the meal.

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Once the extended family had said their goodbyes and made their way back to their own homes, Anna-Marie had the fantastic idea of trying to bond with the girls some more before they returned to Forks later that night. The idea was that the  family , for lack of a better word, would head to Target for some early Black Friday shopping.

Cynthia had taken to the promise of new toys quite easily, rushing for her coat as soon as the idea had been proposed, bouncing with excitement as she waited for Alice to end her Zoom call with Emmett. He'd been the only friend available when she'd sent out a group message. Bella was busy watching football with Charlie and Edward, who'd apparently left his own home to join them. She'd gotten a chuckle out of her cousin's response to her text on how football was pointless and boring; it was sweet, though, how he endured the game to please his girlfriend. To Alice's disappointment, neither Jasper nor Rosalie had responded to her message; she understood they were likely spending quality time with family, but it would have been nice to see their faces, specifically the former.

Emmett's presence was a godsend though, he was always good for a bad joke and discussion of something nonsensical. He was good at distracting people from matters at hand, precisely what Alice needed after the excruciatingly long afternoon and the tedium of her old room. It made sense that the space wouldn't be the same after four years and with most of her belongings back in Forks, but she hadn't expected it to feel so... foreign.

With some words of encouragement from Emmett, a quick reminder that it was only a few more hours before she would be allowed to make the return trip to Forks, Alice ended the call with her friend and begrudgingly made her way downstairs.

Luckily, she had been able to convince her father it made the most sense to drive herself to Target. After all, she'd driven both she and Cynthia to Seattle that morning, and by the time they'd finished shopping, it would be time to make the return trip. As she directed her sister into the beat-up Lumina and proceeded to buckle herself in, she wondered if Edgar's easy acceptance had been due to the logic of the statement or in an excuse to spend less time around his children. Watching her father and his future wife throughout the day had made it abundantly clear that the siblings were not there because he missed his children; rather, their presence was a concession to Anna-Marie's misguided desire to be a part of their lives.

Once at the store, Edgar had made halfhearted attempts to point out things his fiance thought Alice might enjoy. Books on subjects that might have interested her four years prior, records that may have held her interest before the divorce. Anna-Marie had likely gone through the few belongings left in Alice's room in an attempt to form a bond between the eldest daughter and her father. The effort was, however, far too little and far too late.

It took less than an hour for the two adults to give up on trying to placate Alice turning their undivided attention instead to her easier to please younger sister. Too young to recall or understand exactly what the pair had done, Cynthia  seemed  fine looking at toys with Edgar and Anna-Marie. So, when all three backs were turned to examine a doll the youngest Brandon daughter had pointed at excitedly, Alice ducked out of the aisle headed for the store's makeup section.

As she looked over a new line of palettes from Stila, a favorite brand of hers, she thought to herself that there was no way she could afford the still-high price even at the significant Black Friday price slash. Making a move to put it back, she jumped in fright as a pair of hands covered her eyes, only relaxing when the familiar voice of Jasper Whitlock whispered "Boo" in her ear as the hands dropped from her field of vision.

With a delighted chuckle and the first genuine smile she'd exhibited that day, she turned around, leaning in to hug the first friendly face she'd seen since leaving home for her father's that morning, allowing herself to relax in his presence. Even before they'd entered into whatever their relationship was now, Jasper had always been one of her closest friends. His presence was calming and safe. As she peeked around his arm, her happiness rose at seeing yet another friendly face standing back, looking over a rack of lipsticks.

Rosalie, who's long luscious curly locks were usually the same honey shade of blonde as her brother, had dyed her hair with what was meant to be temporary black dye to really get into the part of her Halloween costume. Unfortunately, the coloring hadn't washed out completely, leaving her hair stained a silvery grey color. To her credit, Rosalie had chosen to embrace the new look rather than freak out about the mistake. Always the drama queen, she had leaned into it, cultivating a vastly different style choice choosing slightly edgier black outfits over the past few months.

"What are you guys doing here?" Alice asked, pulling back from the hug, curious as to the circumstances bringing her two friends to a Target in Seattle when there was a location closer to Forks in Silverdale.

"Mom and dad wanted a new sectional for the living room, and this was the closest Target that has the one they're looking at." Rosalie commented as she placed a few lipsticks from the display into her shopping basket. "I'm glad we ran into you. Jas wouldn't shut up in the car about how 'Alice is in Seattle with her dad. I wonder how her day's going. Should I text her, or is that weird? What if she's also at Target? Wouldn't that be fun?' Gotta say, I really wasn't looking forward to that dialogue on the way back."

Rosalie's direct response caused both of the other teens to blush, looking away from each other. "Whatcha' looking at?" Jasper asked, snatching the shadow pallette out of Alice's hands in an attempt to change the subject.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just some new makeup; I'm thinking of seeing if mom can pick it up for Christmas." She the inside corner of her lip as she spoke, not wanting to let on that her mother would not be spending fifty dollars on makeup for Christmas or that there was no way she could afford it herself. "So, do you guys have time to hang out for a bit?"

"Avoiding your dad?" Jasper asked, eliciting a sad nod from the short girl. "Well, anything for you. Right Rose?" He looked over his shoulder at his sister with a mischievous grin.

Rosalie, who now bore an identical expression, agreed with enthusiasm. "I'm sure we can find some ways to keep you entertained."

Jasper quickly tossed something into his sister's shopping basket before grabbing Alice's hand, dragging her off into the heart of the store, followed by a giggling Rosalie.

The trio found various ways to entertain themselves, such as; sword fighting with wrapping paper; Rosalie had picked up a copy of Candyland with the suggestion that they play it ironically in the cady aisle. Alice had agreed on the condition that they purchase it and give it to Cynthia.

Rosalie and Alice had held a competition to see who could put together the most ridiculous outfit strutting through the clothing department. At the same time, Jasper filmed their antics to share on TikTok.

It had been a fun few hours of chaotic activity ending in a trip to the instore Starbucks to reenergize with pumpkin spice as they wandered around trying to decide what to do next. Eventually, they ended up sitting in some camping chairs set out on display in the outdoors section watching the throngs of customers fighting over merchandise. Alice and Jasper sat drinking their Starbucks as they brainstormed what to do next.

Alice had been sitting back, enjoying the pleasant turn her night had taken, when Jasper stood up with an excited look on his face. "I've got it!"

"Please," Rosalie responded. "Do elaborate."

"Okay, the game is hide and seek with a twist. You can hide anywhere in the store; if you're found, you can run and hide again. But if you're tagged, you're done. Any questions?"

"I'm in, but you're it." Alice stood, pulling a cloth headband from her bag. She stepped up onto a decorative stump that made up part of the camping display and tied the fabric around Japer's eyes. "Count to twenty-five and come find us."

She looked over at Rosalie, who nodded, counted to three, and shouted, "GO!" As she took off down the aisle in search of a hiding spot.

Alice followed suit with a light giggle, rushing instinctively to the juniors section ducking under a clearance rack hiding behind the markdown fall jeans and dresses.

It wasn't long before she could see Jasper coming from between the clothing items, stifling a giggle in anticipation, prepared to run as he looked through every rack looking for the girls. It didn't take long for him to reach the spot where she was hidden, laughing out gotcha as she ducked to the side, making a break for the seasonal section. As she chanced a glance behind her to see if he was on her tail, relieved to see the coast was clear, she slowed to a walk only to be surprised when Jasper jumped out from the aisle in front of her.

He reached out, wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her forward into a hug. "Got ya, for real this time." He laughed as he held her close, gazing down at her with affection.

The air felt thick with a comfortable tension, her heart thumping hard at a slow, steady rhythm. "We should probably go look for Rosalie." She spoke softly after a moment.

"Yeah, you're probably right." He didn't immediately release her, pausing with an expression that made her wonder if there was something he wanted to say but was holding back.

With a slight shake of the head, Jasper released his hold on her waist. "Would you like a ride, milady?" he asked, gesturing to a discarded shopping cart off to the side, causing Alice to break down in giggles. He lifted her up, placing her delicately into the empty cart, proceeding to push her down the aisle in search of his sibling.

Rosalie wasn't hard to find, having gotten distracted by a bin of discounted Nintendo games and forgetting about the game. The trio decided to wander about the store once again. Distracted by pleasant conversation and a game of walking charades. They didn't notice when they Edgar, Anna-Maria, and Cynthia spotted their group or how Alice's father was storming directly toward them.

"Mary-Alice, who are these people." Her father looked on at Rosalie and Jasper in disgust. Although she didn't particularly care about her father's opinion, it would have been nice to introduce Edgar to Jasper under better circumstances, maybe when she had a clearer idea of exactly what he was to her. At the very least, not while he was pushing her around a Target in a shopping cart.  

"That's Jasper!" Cynthia piped in, unaware of how their father would view the situation. "He's Alice's boyfriend. And Rosie!" The little girl's face lit up upon seeing her favorite of her sister's friends standing off to the side. Cynthia instantly released her hand from Anna-Marie's and bounced over to give the woman a hug. The woman seemed slightly dejected at the action, realizing that the child had been placating her all day, happy to receive any sort of attention. Whereas upon seeing Rosalie, she had been genuinely excited, immediately beginning to chatter about her day at top speeds.

Alice's attention was focused on her fuming father expecting the worst. There wasn't much he could do; after all, they were in a public location, and he'd lost all control he had over her when Alice had moved out with her mother in the divorce. Still, that fear remained ever-present as she unconsciously scooted back further into the cart.

"Get out of that cart and act like a lady! You're embarrassing yourself and my name!" The man seethed, hissing the words through a clenched jaw.

Alice stood, trying to figure out how exactly she was going to get out on her own when Jasper picked her up again. He placed her back on the ground gently before both turned once again to face the angry Edgar. Jasper never once removing his hand from the small of her back; she was grateful for this, the touch keeping her calm and grounded.

Edgar opened his mouth, presumably to order his daughter to say goodbye to her friends when a familiar voice sounded from behind the group. "There are my children," Alice turned around to see David Hale striding over to the group. "Alice and Cynthia as well, what a pleasant surprise."

David offered both girls a warm smile before turning his attention to Alice's father. "And Edgar, I'm shocked I never made the connection before.  Brandon,  you must be the girl's father, such a small world when the daughter of one of my suppliers happens to become such close friends with my children without either of us knowing. Jasper, Rose," He looked over his shoulder at the twins, "Your mother is out front in the van; we're ready to leave. You should take Alice and go check out while I catch up with Mr. Brandon for a moment." He then turned his attention back to Edgar with an incredulous expression.

Not needing to be told twice, the three teens left the adults to talk, making their way to the self-checkouts located at the front of the store where Rosalie began to scan her purchases. Alice zoned out as the twins discussed the matter of an item Rosalie hadn't recalled placing in the basket; not wanting to involve herself in their argument, she instead thought back to the confrontation with her father. The gravity of Cynthia's words suddenly hitting her with full force; the eight-year-old had called Jasper her boyfriend. She'd been too preoccupied in the moment to notice, but now that she'd come to the realization, she was suddenly anxious. She looked over at the guy in question; he was smiling at his sister in triumph, having apparently won the battle.

She wondered what he had thought of Cynthia's statement as Rosalie paid for their items, slipping her brother a bag before they wandered out into the parking lot. Had he even noticed, or had he been just as distracted as she had been by the uncomfortable situation?

"What's on your mind?" Jasper asked once outside, motioning for his twin to go on ahead as they walked over to where Alice's Lumina was parked. "You're doing that thing where you're thinking too hard and start chewing on the corner of your lip."

"I do that?"

"Nope, don't change the subject, missy. What's wrong?"

"Okay..." She opened nervously. "You didn't correct Cynthia when she called you my boyfriend."

"Well, you didn't either." His response came with equal trepidation.

"I guess I didn't."

"Did... did you want me to?"

Alice shook her head, furiously at the question, "No! I just... wanted to be sure what was going on here."

"Oh Alice," Jasper chuckled as he bent down to please a kiss in her temple as he shoved a Target sack into her hands, "Happy early Christmas,  girlfriend . I'll see you on Monday." He tucked a stray hair behind her eat with a smile before venturing over to where Rosalie as waiting with their parents shooting Alice a final glance before climbing into his family's van.

She leaned against her own vehicle with a dopey smile. That had been as clear an answer as she could have asked for. Looking down into the bag, she pulled out a single item, the same Stila palette she'd been looking at earlier. She held the eyeshadow in her hands, tightly filled with joy. Of course, he'd noticed her every expression and caught onto her lie. That was just like Jasper, to do something so sweet on the spur of the moment.

Alice tossed the gift into the backseat of her car before making her way back inside. Prepared to endure the rest of the obligatory time with her family. Her Thanksgiving might have started out terrible, but with friends like Emmett and Rosalie and a boyfriend  like Jasper. She really couldn't complain.

[aliciameade]

Santa's Little Helper - Merry Pitchmas 2019

Merry Pitchmas to @brandneweyesx! 

Summary: Beca needs to earn some extra cash so Chloe hooks her up with a job at the mall. And maybe her motives aren't totally innocent.

Rated: T

(Also on AO3)

“Just cover me one more time; you know I’m good for it,” Beca says, giving her best big doe-eyes that she knows will win over Chloe. She doesn’t take advantage of the known weakness that often, but it’s useful when she does.

She watches Chloe sigh yet nod in agreement. “Okay. You know, if you’re so broke, I could try to put in a good word at a few of the stores in the mall. They all staff up for the holidays.”

Beca’s instinct is to reject it; she’s busy enough as it is with figuring out how the Bellas will defend their national title and repeat as champions. Oh, and attending class. She does that most days, too. She’s also flat broke as a result of her packed schedule and Chloe’s paid Beca’s share of the Bella house bills for the last three months.

“Fine,” Beca says, resigned. “But nothing lame like Cinnabon or hocking hand lotions at a kiosk. Get me in at Journeys or Sunglass Hut. Somewhere I can get a discount on stuff I actually want to buy.”

She smiles into Chloe’s shoulder when she gets tackled by a wholly unnecessary and welcome hug. “I’ll do my best. I can’t believe we’re going to work together!”

“Do not get me a job at Victoria’s Secret.”

“What—too tempting to look at all the pretty girls?”

“Shut up,” Beca huffs while pushing Chloe off her. She schools her face into a strong pout with a hefty glare that earns her a giggly kiss to her cheek.

“Don’t worry,” Chloe says, voice dropping to a whisper, “your secret’s safe with me.”

Beca’s pout turns into a furious blush. She’s still getting used to the whole someone-knows-she’s-gay thing. Chloe was the first—and remains the only—person she’s come out to. It’s been kind of nice getting to talk about it, even if it feels a lot like learning to ride a bike without training wheels.

It’s helped that Chloe had made no secret about her own bisexuality, and her current favorite hobby is quietly pointing out (or texting pictures of) girls she thinks Beca might find attractive and prodding her for an opinion. It’s also often accompanied with, “I can talk to her for you if you want.”

Beca’s been dismissive of the options, begrudgingly admitting that, “Yes, that girl is pretty,” but, “No, please don’t talk to her for me.”

“I don’t think I’m ready for that,” is the reason she provides when Chloe asks why not.

“What if we went on a date instead?” is the answer she wishes she could give,” but, “No, please don’t talk to her for me.”

“I don’t think I’m ready for that,” is the reason she provides when Chloe asks why not.

“What if we went on a date instead?” is the answer she wishes she was brave enough to give instead.

“Okay, no lingerie stores,” Chloe laughs, interrupting Beca’s thoughts. “Let me see what I can rustle up for you.”

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

When Beca shows up at the mall the following Thursday afternoon, she’s there via what seems like one step away from an illegal hustle based on the lack of information provided by the man who had called her.

“Southeast entrance. 4:00. Ask for Randall.”

Turns out the southeast entrance isn’t where she’s going; a man identified as Randall leads her through a service entrance and into a network of nondescript, neutral-colored hallways. She’s considering texting Chloe and asking what exactly she’s about to walk into or if she needs to have her family prepare ransom money when Randall pushes open a door into an employee locker room.

Her apprehension eases considerably at the normalcy that comes with it. Just walls of blue lockers, a few benches, and a vending machine.

“163,” he says, pointing vaguely.

“They’re assigned? What is this, high school?” she asks with a laugh, only he doesn’t laugh back and she sobers, apprehension immediately returning. She follows his orders though, glad to put some distance between them, and pops the latch on locker 163.

“What is this?” she asks, pointing at its contents as she turns around, but Randall is already leaving and has offered no further instruction or clarity. “Cool, cool, cool,” she says with a nod as she turns back to face her reality.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

“We need to talk,” she texts Chloe, accompanied by a photo of the atrocious red and green outfit hanging in her locker before stuffing her phone into the pocket of her green skirt (at least it has pockets). The candy cane-striped leggings are itchy, the corsetted top is, in her opinion, too racy for Christmas, and honestly, don’t even get her started on the hat.

At least she can wear her own boots.

Unsure where to go, she stomps out the same exit Randall had gone and nearly runs into the man waiting on the other side of the door.

“Let’s go,” he says before dialing a number on a weirdly out-of-date flip phone.

“So, are you going to tell me what’s going on? I mean, I have a pretty good idea but it’d be nice to know—“

She stops mid-sentence when a door opens and she’s pushed (not led) right into the open floor of the shopping center just meters away from what is clearly the back of the mall’s installation of Santa’s Workshop, a noisy, bright monstrosity designed as a cash-grab for parents who need Instagram content. She’s avoided it like the plague every season while shopping, and now it seems the avoidance has ricocheted back upon her ten-fold.

She turns around looking for Randall but he’s gone and the door she was booted through is closed and the only thing left for her to do is to explore the obvious: she approaches the back door of the workshop and knocks while considering ding-dong-ditching.

The door swings open and a man that looks to be about her age, maybe a bit younger, sticks his head out. He’s dressed similarly but has a noticeable amount of rouge on his cheeks and he’s definitely wearing body glitter. “Beca?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Just in time; I need a damn break. Get in here.”

She’s half-pulled into the structure which is much less magical inside than its exterior, save for a few deliberately placed decorations that can be seen if one looks in from the front windows. There are a couple of overstuffed chairs, a Christmas tree, a fake fireplace,  and a plain table and chairs that sit in the back out of sight for employees. “Um, I don’t really know what I’m doing here. Literally and figuratively,” she adds hoping for at least a smile but instead, she gets a blank stare.

“You’re an elf. Go be an elf.” With that, her new, nameless coworker disappears out the back as if such an explanation is suitable for someone’s first day on a job, as basic as it might seem.

“And a Merry Christmas to you,” she says with a sarcastic bow in his direction. She checks her phone expecting a response form Chloe but she hasn’t replied so she does the only thing she can do.

She puts her phone away and opens the front door of Santa’s Workshop to the cheers (and screams) of children and a loud, “Ho, ho, ho! Here’s another of my little helpers!” from an unimpressive mall Santa who looks at her with what should be a criminal level of disdain. Or pity. “Well, let’s not keep the good girls and boys waiting!” He gestures at the line that has no end in sight and Beca figures there’s only one thing to do.

“Okay, little guy,” she says, reaching out to take the hand of the next child in line, “let’s visit Santa!”

She’s going to have some very strong words for Chloe when she sees her tonight.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

“Dude, you said you were going on a break! It’s been at least two hours,” she whispers harshly under her breath when the elf she replaced returns. All he offers is a shrug and takes up a position at the front of the line to pass off the children to Beca.

At least she doesn’t have to walk back and forth trying to control the kids anymore. If they make it as far as her, most of them are agreeable to her lifting them on to Santa’s lap without too much of a fuss.

Her back is aching by the time someone tells her that she can take a dinner break and her hands are so uncomfortably sticky that she knows she’s destined to wake up puking tomorrow thanks to some illness she’s acquired. She pushes through the front door of the workshop and makes a beeline for the giant pump bottle of hand sanitizer, briefly considering bathing with it but settles on slathering it only on her hands and arms.

A check of her phone reveals to her her worst nightmare.

A photo, sent from Chloe, of Beca standing on the porch of Santa’s Workshop looking less than impressed by her situation, staring off into the distance contemplating her existence.

Only the photo was sent to the Bellas’ group chat, not just Beca, and there are at least fifty texts of varying levels of amusement and threats of blackmail that follow it.

She’s typing out a message intended just for Chloe to convey her irritation as she exits through the back door only to find the would-be recipient of her words waiting for her wearing exactly the smile Beca imagined her sporting when she sent her evil, evil photo to the girls.

“You!” she growls, her stride changing to stalk toward her co-captain. “You knew about this!”

“You asked me to get you a job, Bec!” Chloe says, voice so high and eyes so bright with mirth that it’s impossible for Beca to maintain any level of ill-will toward her. “So I got you a job.”

Beca pokes her squarely in the chest. “This wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“No?”

“I specifically said nothing lame.”

“It’s not lame,” Chloe grins. “I love Christmas!”

“Right. You love Christmas.”

Her correction goes unnoticed (or ignored) by Chloe. “I knew you’d make a good elf.”

Beca crosses her arms. “And why is that? Choose your words carefully.”

“Because I knew you’d look adorable in the costume.” Her eyes roam Beca in what feels like a slightly invasive manner. “And I was right.”

Beca blushes despite herself. “I look like an idiot.”

“But an adorable idiot. Are you on break?”

Beca lets her comment slide. “Yeah.”

“Awes. Me, too. Let’s go to the food court.”

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Beca should have known that going to the food court in full elf attire would garner attention, especially from children. They flocked to her asking about Santa like pigeons to tossed breadcrumbs and if not for the stupidly cute way Chloe watched her while it happened, she would have probably done something to get herself fired on her first day, like yelling that Santa isn’t even real and to get the fuck away from her.

“You know you owe me. Big time,” she says as Chloe walks her back to the workshop.

“If I’m not mistaken, you actually owe me. That’s why you’re here.”

“Right,” Beca grumbles.

“But seeing you dressed up like this is definitely worth more than the money you owe me. Let’s call it even.”

“What? Dude, no,” Beca says, feeling immensely guilty that Chloe’s offering to forgive the nearly $100 she owes. “I’ll pay you back.”

She feels Chloe grab her hand once they’re behind the workshop and sidle up alongside her to whisper conspiratorially. “Tell you what: give me a private tour of Santa’s Workshop after you close. Then we’ll call it even.”

Beca’s stomach flip-flops, maybe from the mall sushi she just ate or maybe from Chloe being so close and sounding so suggestive. “I don’t think I’m supposed to do that.”

Chloe clicks her tongue and the fact that it happens so close to Beca’s ear makes her shiver. “Everyone knows Santa’s Workshop after-hours is the place to be. You just have to know someone to get in. And now I know you.”

Beca can’t help but smirk a little. “You make it sound like it’s the hottest new club.”

“Well, maybe not quite,” Chloe says with a shrug and puts a bit of space between them once again. “But I do want to see it.”

“It’s just a big empty box.”

“Then who cares if I see it?” Damn Chloe and her logic.

“Fine. What time does this thing close? I don’t even know who my supervisor is. Or when my shift ends.”

“Mall closes at 9:00. Santa at 8:30.”

Beca checks her very non-elf-like watch and groans that it’s only 6:30. “Then meet me here at 8:30.”

Chloe gives her one of her excited squeals and a kiss on her cheek before scampering away back toward her much less lame job at Aeropostale with a wave.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

She spots Chloe spying on her in the open plaza of the mall when she’s helping the other elf close up the workshop (which involves little more than placing a sign in front of the door that reads Santa’s checking his lists - come back tomorrow!) and she throws a glare or two her way.

Chloe laughs at them and when Beca disappears into the workshop house to exit through the back, she sees Chloe all but skipping around it to meet her. Beca lets her fellow elf depart first who stops when he almost bumps into Chloe waiting at the back door. Beca’s immediate reaction is to panic that she’s in trouble but instead, he turns around smiling and says, “Nice one, honey. And on your first day.”

She doesn’t have a chance to ask what he means because he’s out the door and Chloe’s stepping in, closing it behind her.

“Why did he look at me that way?” Beca asks, trying to catch sight of him through a side window as he departs.

“I don’t know,” Chloe says airly. “This is cool!”

“Uh, sure,” Beca says as she steps aside so Chloe can explore what little there is to the place. She watches her try out both chairs, wondering aloud which one is Santa’s and which one is Mrs. Claus’s while taking more than one selfie.

“Come sit on my lap,” Chloe says and it makes Beca wonder if she heard correctly.

“What?”

“Come on,” she repeats, patting it. “Don’t think I’m not getting a picture with Santa’s cutest elf in his workshop.”

“Oh, my God, stop,” Beca says with a roll of her eyes. “I’ll do it, but only if I get photo approval.”

“Deal,” Chloe grins, holding out her arms expectantly.

As if it’s really some big chore for Beca.

She perches cautiously on Chloe’s knee only to get pulled back until Chloe’s arm is around her waist, the other poised in the air with her phone at the ready.

“Say, ‘Have a holly jolly Christmas!’”

“Not saying that,” Beca says but she smiles for the photos anyway.

A few minutes and many photos (and one photo approval) later, Chloe has a new Instagram post and Beca has days of ridicule lying ahead. She’s also still basically on Chloe’s lap, the two of them shifting to share the chair, though Beca’s legs have to drape awkwardly over Chloe’s to fit.

“You know,” Chloe starts as she wiggles to get her phone into her pocket, “I’ve worked at this mall for three Christmases and I’ve never been invited to the workshop.”

“Should I know why that’s significant?”

“Well,” she says as she settles again, her free hand now taking up Beca’s to start playing with her fingers absentmindedly, “this is totes the make-out spot in the mall.”

Beca nearly chokes. “What?”

“I told you: it’s VIP. You have to be invited. It’s like, the law of the mall.”

“And you thought making me an elf would get you in? Dude, I’m not going to be a lookout while you hook up with someone in here.”

“No, silly,” Chloe laughs. “I didn’t mean that. I wanted you to invite me.”

Beca feels like her ears are on fire. “What?”

“You wanna make out?”

Beca’s sure she’s now entirely engulfed in flames, and Chloe’s hand resting on her hip isn’t helping matters. “Dude, what?”

“We don’t have to,” Chloe quickly follows with. “Unless...unless you want to? Maybe? I’m not trying to make anything weird, I just thought, you know, I like you, and now that I know you like girls, too, I just thought maybe...”

Beca’s brain tunes out after that because Chloe’s turned from a giggly, cuddly friend to a rambling ball of nerves; she can even feel how tense Chloe is beneath her. She tunes out because Chloe’s asking Beca if she wants to kiss. Each other. And something about Chloe having thought about it?

“Okay.” She doesn’t know where the word comes from but her brain spits it out and it cuts off Chloe.

“...Okay?” Chloe repeats slowly, as though unsure she heard what she thinks she heard.

Beca feels seconds from full-on panic so she just nods.

“Oh. Cool,” Chloe says, the uncertainty and tension starting to ease. “So…”

“So…” Beca repeats and finds herself adjusting her position next to Chloe so they’re less cheek-to-cheek and more face-to-face.

Or lips-to-lips, as it were. Not that she’s thinking of such things. Mostly her heart os pounding in her ears and her stomach is tingling because there’s no doubt that Chloe’s staring at Beca’s mouth with intent and there’s getting to be less and less distance between them.

Beca holds her breath when they’re so close she can feel Chloe’s. But then Chloe stops.

“Are you sure?” she asks and Beca almost laughs.

“Chloe.” She hears herself and is embarrassed by how whiney it sounds but it makes Chloe’s soft lips split into a grin.

“I just wanted to hear you beg,” she whispers before erasing the last inch between them to press her lips to Beca’s.

Beca’s still reeling from the fact that Chloe is kissing her when her sassy and startingly sexy words register with Beca. She starts to pull away with a grunt of protest, not of the kiss but of Chloe’s cockiness, but Chloe laughs against her lips and slides the arm that’s been around Beca’s waist higher up her back so she can’t get far.

Beca doesn’t really want to get away from Chloe anyway. Or stop what’s currently happening. Because Chloe’s lips feel amazing touching hers and just when Beca starts to sink into it, Chloe changes things up and tilts her head in a way that makes them fit even better.

The sound Beca makes at the touch of Chloe’s tongue to her lips is just as embarrassing as whining about Chloe teasing her but the sound Chloe makes in response is the sexiest thing Beca’s ever heard.

It fuels her. Emboldens her to press a bit forward, to part her lips and let Chloe in to meet her tongue with her own.

That’s all it takes for them to be making out in the darkened Santa’s Workshop. A rambly suggestion and Beca nodding like a bobblehead. If she had known it would be that easy, maybe they could have done this a long time ago.

Not that she has any regrets. Not when Chloe’s tongue is playing with hers in a way that makes Beca think she might be showing off. Or maybe Chloe’s just an amazing kisser.

(She’s pretty sure it’s the latter.)

She doesn’t know how much time passes but eventually Chloe is the one to pull back with a satisfied-sounding groan. “God, that was really good,” she says before leaning in to kiss Beca again, a hard, fast, wet kiss that turns Beca on more in those three seconds than everything prior.

“Yeah,” Beca replies and she can hear in her own voice how breathless she sounds.

“And you look...smokin’ hot dressed up like this.”

Beca almost finds enough snark left inside her to turn that into a comment about Chloe having a weird Christmas kink, except as soon as she thinks about Chloe having kinks of any kind, her mind shuts down again and she’s the one suddenly kissing Chloe, hard, fast, and wet.

Chloe groans again when Beca pulls back and it’s all she can do to not lean right in for more. It feels too good and knowing it’s affecting Chloe like it’s affecting Beca is even better. She manages to refrain, though, because she’s noticing how dark it’s gotten. “Dude, they turned off all the lights.”

“Mall’s closed,” Chloe says, voice sounding as dreamy as she looks.

“And it’s okay for us to still be here?”

“Security will let us out. Do you want to do this again?” Chloe’s question follows her comment about security with no warning and it catches Beca off-guard.

“Uh, I mean…” she stumbles over what she should say; she doesn’t want to sound like the horny college student she is, and she doesn’t want to sound like she’s rejecting Chloe’s offer (?), but she definitely wants to do this again. “Amy’s crashing at Bumper’s tonight,” is how she answers it and it’s not until Chloe’s eyes go wide with surprise that she realizes how that sounded.

“I just meant...oh, my God,” she rushes, trying to figure out how to explain that she didn’t mean it ‘that way’ except she kind of did, just not all-the-way that way. Except despite tonight being their first kiss, she’s pretty sure she would sleep with Chloe tonight if things went that direction.

It’s not like she’s never thought about it.

“I just meant we can hang out in my room and be alone and see what happens.”

Chloe’s smiling at her struggle to answer and it only grows. “‘See what happens’? What if what happens is more of that?”

Beca thinks it’s a dumb question. Dumb dumb dumb. “Then that would be fine,” she says with a nod.

“Then let’s go home,” Chloe whispers before pulling Beca into one more kiss, all of it leaving Beca’s legs unsteady when she finally rights herself so they can leave the workshop.

“I can’t get over this,” Chloe says with a tug to Beca’s skirt before standing up as well. “Can you keep it on when we get home?”

“In your dreams.”

Chloe hums thoughtfully as she takes Beca’s hand to lead her out of the workshop and through the hidden hallways of the mall to the exit. “Oh, it will be.”

Beca has a lot of questions about that: what exactly she means, what exactly she’d be dreaming of, what exactly what’s happening means for them as friends, and if it means something more.

Instead of asking about any of that, however, she says, “I didn’t forget what you did. You’re not off the hook for this elf thing.”

The look Chloe tosses her over her shoulder makes her breath catch. “Guess I’ll have to make it up to you.”

The End

[missbellaswan]

Twice Bitten Half Turned - Chapter 8

AO3

tag list: @jasondeanstwin @wishing-on-angels @yeetbean @loveofmonstersandroses @ripleythedemonfcker @big-idiot-wolf-boys @edwards-sideburns @madame-forget-me-not @525600selfies @ratatouillecarliecullen (let me know if you want to be added!)

I slept restlessly that night.

There were hundreds of pairs of eyes glowing in the blackness. They shifted from red to black to gold and back again. I tried to close my eyes, to turn away, but I couldn’t feel anything, just the darkness. One by one the pairs of eyes blinked out drawing me deeper into darkness until there was only one pair left. Red. Blood red. Angry, hungry.

I went back to the Cullen’s house the next morning. Edward met me in the entryway and kissed me lightly. He had spent most of the night at my house, so it had only been a few hours since I had seen him, but I still missed him.

“How was your morning?” He asked me.

“Boring, how was yours?” I said.

“Boring, without you,” he smiled. Most of the group from last night had dissipated, so when we made our way to the living room only Carlisle, Eleazer, and Carmen were still where I had left them all the night before.

“Good morning, Bella,” Carlisle said.

“Morning,” I said.

“Did you sleep well?” Carlisle asked.

“Yes,” I lied. No one seemed to notice, or if they did, they let it slide. “Where is everyone?”

“They went for a run,” Edward said. Carlisle frowned at him. He didn’t say anything, but after a moment of prolonged eye contact Edward sighed and turned to me again, “they are running a perimeter to check for Victoria’s scent. Laurent is helping us try to identify if she is going to be a threat.”

“Oh,” I said. “Good.”

Edward watched me carefully for a reaction. I was terrified of Victoria, but I didn’t flinch. There was a room full of people here watching me, I wasn’t going to show them how scared I was.

“You don’t have to keep things from me,” I said. “You don’t have to protect me.”

“Yes, I do.” Edward said.

“No one is going to get hurt.” Carmen said. Carlisle and Eleazer nodded in agreement.

Carlisle’s phone rang through the quiet house. He sped over to a table and was already talking as I was piecing his movements together.

Edward leaned down to whisper in my ear, since I was the only person who couldn’t hear the entire conversation.

“It’s Emmett.” He said. Finally. Carlisle wandered into the hall to talk to him. I knew the others could still hear, but they pretended they weren’t listening and turned their attention back to me.

“The others should be back soon,” Carmen said.

“I can’t hear them yet,” Edward said.

“How are Rosalie and Emmett?” Carmen asked Edward. “We were sad to hear they are out of town.”

“They’re well.” He said. “They went to Europe in search of information about Bella’s condition. And for the chance to have another honeymoon.”

“Have they found anything?” Eleazer pressed. They both seemed very interested in me and my half vampire biology.

“Not yet, this is the first we’ve heard from them in a while,” Edward said.

Carlisle returned a few minutes later and sat back down on the couch.

“Any news?” Carmen asked, politely.

“Emmett and Rosalie are sorry to have missed you all, they wish they could be here.” Carlisle said, “Emmett informed me that they have not had much luck with their time in Europe, and they are anxious to get some space from the watchful eye of the Volturi as soon as possible.

“Surely the Volturi would be a great asset in learning about Bella’s condition?” Eleazer said.

“We decided it would be best not to involve the Volturi unless it is absolutely necessary. For Bella’s safety. I’m sure you understand why attracting attention to ourselves may not be in our best interest.” Carlisle said.

“A hybrid is a grey area in the eyes of the Volturi, and they only see in black and white.” Edward said. Edward had told me enough before that I knew to fear the Volturi, but he spoke with such certainty that it sent a new shiver of terror down my spine.

Eleazer nodded in understanding.

“I’m sending them to stay with our friends in Ireland. They will be safe there.” Carlisle said.

“The others are on their way back.” Edward interrupted.

Everyone waited in silence. I slipped my hand into Edward’s and he squeezed it gingerly. It felt like the walls were closing in on me, and Edward could sense it. I had to keep it together for a while longer. I wanted to hear what the others had found.

They all swept in a few minutes later. Alice and Jasper were suddenly standing right next to me. Esme was hand in hand with Carlisle. The rest of the Denalis were all standing behind the couch where Carmen and Eleazer were sitting. There were scattered murmurs of greeting.

“Did you find anything?” Carlisle asked.

“We ran the perimeter of the town, and we didn’t find any traces of Victoria,” Esme said.

“She hasn’t been to town recently,” Laurent confirmed. I let out a sigh of relief and realized I had been holding my breath since they got here. Edward pulled me tighter against his side.

“We found something else,” Esme said. “The wolves are back.”

“You’re certain?” Carlisle said.

“Wolves?” Eleazer asked. I didn’t understand what they meant either.

“Shapeshifters,” Esme said, “the protectors of the Quileute tribe. I recognized their scent along the boundary between our land and theirs.”

“Werewolves?” I whispered. Something flickered in the back of my mind as I said the word.

“For all intents and purposes, yes.” Carlisle said. “Perhaps we should warn them, about Victoria.”

“We don’t even have evidence that she’s been here yet,” Jasper said.

“Jazz is right, we should wait until we know whether or not she’s going to be a threat.” Edward said. Laurent looked like he wanted to argue the point, but he stayed quiet.  

Carlisle nodded. The group started to break off into smaller, less charged conversations. Edward pulled me away into the kitchen to give me a moment to process.  

“Werewolves?” I said again.

“We have an understanding with them, a treaty.” Edward said, “we don’t harm humans and we don’t set foot on their land. And they allow us to live here peacefully.”

“Like turn on the moon, silver bullet werewolves? Or werewolves in the same way you guys claim to be vampires,” I tried to tease him, but my tone was flat. But the myths were so wrong about vampires, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were wrong about this too.

“Not that kind of werewolf, no.” Edward said.

“Edward,” my voice was even, but it felt hollow, “it’s too much.”

“I know,” he said.

“What are we going to do?” I asked.

“I will keep you safe.”

“How?” It was the same promise he made to me yesterday. It was the same promise he made before I went to Phoenix.

“Trust me.” He said.

“I do trust you.” But Edward had no way of knowing that he could keep that promise. And the sheer number of enemies suddenly threatening me sent ripples of fear through me. The Volturi, the existence of werewolves, Laurent and Victoria, and my own body betraying me, it felt like it was enough to crush me.

“We should go back in,” Edward said. “The Denalis—” he trailed off.

We walked back to the living room and the others were all standing in a loose circle talking again.

“Are you sure?” Carlisle was saying.

“I think it would be best for all of us.” Tanya said. “You are clearly dealing with a lot right now, and we wouldn’t want to attract unwanted attention or be an unnecessary distraction.”

“You are always welcome here,” Esme said.

“As are you, in our home,” Tanya said. “But we really should be going.”

“I would like to stay.” Laurent said, suddenly. “Irina and I would like to continue helping you track Victoria.”

“Of course.” Carlisle said. “We would appreciate the help.”

“It was lovely to see you, as always,” Carmen said.

“And we are so glad to finally have met you, Bella,” Kate said.

“Yeah, you too.” I said.

There was a flurry of goodbyes and hugs. Laurent and Irina walked over to stand by us and waved to their family. We followed them to the door and waved a final goodbye before they took off running into the trees.

Just like that, they were gone.

“Thank you for agreeing to help us,” Carlisle said.

“Laurent is concerned about Victoria,” Irina said, “and he can track her better than any of us.”

“I will find her,” Laurent promised, “and if she is a threat, we will take care of it.”

So far Laurent was the only person who had any evidence that Victoria was still around. We had no choice but to trust him, but I still didn’t like it.

[matrixaffiliate]

Re-blog Tag

The fabulous @magic-girl-in-a-muggle-world tagged me to re-blog a fic I’m proud of. Thank you so much darling <3

If anyone wants to play consider yourself tagged. I’ll tag @gryffindorhealer @thisismegz @petals-to-fish @pansexualsnuffles

Glimpsing Happiness

FFN and AO3

I wrote this wonderful piece with @hufflepuffmarlenemckinnon and it’s still one of my favorite ones to go back and read. I’ll post just the first two chapters here, but if you follow the links above they’ll take you to the full 34K word story. I hope you enjoy this WWII Blackinnon AU!

Chapter 1

Marlene straightened her veil and smoothed the creases out of her white apron before grabbing her gray woolen coat. She chuckled bitterly at the lies she and Mary had told themselves when the war began. September seemed like a dream not just over half a year ago.

When she'd interviewed for the QAIMNS to be a military nurse she'd been a bit startled at being asked to wait afterward. The officer had returned to the waiting room ten minutes later and handed her a packet. Open only in the event of war was printed across the front. He thanked her and sent her on her way. When Mary had the same packet after her interview, Marlene at least knew it wasn't a ploy. Marlene still remembered the chill she felt when England declared war. She and Mary opened their packets together in Marlene's room. The fact that they'd been assigned to the same place was a miracle within itself. War had a habit of pulling everyone apart. But they thought Netley would be an adventure back then. They thought they would be by the sea and have beautiful scenery to live in and that this was how they'd make a difference. Though if she was honest, Marlene would have preferred being handed a rifle and marching orders. But she had to take what she could get.

“Ready Marls?” Mary came out of the loo and walked to the small bed adjacent to the one Marlene sat upon. Her Majesty's nurses were being put up in qualified dwellings, but Marlene knew the stories from The Great War and she refused to become attached to this small flat as home.

Home was London. Home was the bustling streets where she would run to school with her brother and sister. Home was making fun of her older brother for pinning after the shop girl. Home was her younger sister playing their grandmother's violin because she had the gift. Home was her mum's Sunday dinners and her seamstress work all over the sitting room. Home was the smell of her dad's pipe tobacco wafting through their small house and his hugs that made her feel understood. Home was when everyone thought that the world had seen it's worst war. This, well this was anything but home.

Marlene sighed and grabbed her gloves, “Let's get this wretched walk over with.”

Mary tutted, “Just think of it as a pleasant stroll near the seaside.”

Marlene playfully pulled one of Mary’s black curls from under her veil, “I can always count on you to be a bright ball of sunshine can't I?”

Mary reached up and grabbed one of Marlene's blonde ringlets. Marlene flinched as the lock of hair caught on Mary's wedding band, “Your fault for wearing the sun on your head, Sister.”

The women began their trek up to Netley Hospital. The cold spring air whipped against them and Marlene nearly lost her veil twice. It was biting cold and their fingers and toes ached as they climbed the hill. There's a reason that it took two steam engines for the trains to reach the hospital station, Marlene mused as she braced herself against the wind that threatened to knock her back down the hill.

When they finally made it to the hospital doors, Marlene groaned. The entry to the hospital was most peculiar and if she was being honest, downright disturbing. This grand entry served as some sort of deranged circus. All the skulled momentos of animals that had been collected across the British Empire. Beasts really, she shuddered and practically dragged Mary past it all as quickly as possible. Marlene didn't think she'd ever become accustomed to it.

“They really aren't all that bad, Sister Marlene,” Mary smirked and stopped to admire what was labeled as an elephant skull.

“Sister Mary, we're going to be late if we don't step to it and the Matron won't thank us for it.”

Mary sighed and removed her coat before adjusting her scarlet tippet, “Well then off we go.”

They walked to their Matron’s office, nodding politely and grabbed their assignments off the wall covered in file folders.

“Bollocks,” Marlene muttered as they walked out and she opened her folder.

Mary peered over her shoulder, “Oh dear.”

“I was supposed to be done this week!” Marlene groaned. “Private Fenwick will be cleared and on his way to the station by now and I was supposed to be done with Quarantine because we'd have no more patients. But no! We had to get a typhoid fever patient!”

“But we sent vaccines over to France. He should have been vaccinated, it was mandated, David told me so.” Mary’s husband had been sent over to France with the British Expeditionary Force.

“The vaccine isn't a guarantee, Sister. He's probably one of the lucky ones.” Marlene huffed and snapped her folder shut.

“Yes,” Mary rolled her eyes, “very lucky, indeed.”

“Enjoy surgical recovery,” Marlene tipped her head as they reached Mary's ward.

“Enjoy your walk,” Mary blew her a kiss before walking into the first room of her ward.

Marlene started her near quarter-mile trek to the far side of Netley Hospital. She'd gone home last night looking forward to a new assignment, to being done with the Quarantine patient. Not that Private Fenwick was a bad sort, but Marlene was tired of being sequestered off with the shy little ward maid, Arabella Figg. She was a sweet enough lady, but she always insisted on talking about the cats she bread and Marlene wasn't particularly fond of cats, she was more of a dog person actually, so their conversations fizzled out quickly.

“Sister Marlene,” Arabella smiled kindly at her as she pulled the sheets off of Private Fenwick's cot. “I told them to put your new patient by the window. Not much of a view, but I thought a bit of sun would do the poor officer good.”

“Thank you, Arabella,” Marlene nodded and walked to the far end of the room where a man lay unconscious under his blankets. Opening the chart, Marlene sighed, “Welcome home, Captain Black.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 2

It started out like just a common cold. Sirius did his best to ignore the blaring headache and aches in his muscles. He was fighting in a bloody war; he had more important things to focus on than the damned sniffles.

But within a few weeks, it was high fevers to the point of full-on delirium. No amount of Iron-will stubbornness could have kept him on the field after that. He was lucky someone had dragged him off to sick bay before his vision gave out.

Losing his sight was quite jarring, even to a mind that was preoccupied with the fact it was boiling. Was he dying? Where was he? What was happening?

He woke up, and by virtue of doing so, he was fairly sure he wasn’t dead. He didn’t quite have a gage on how long he was unconscious, but when he woke he was absolutely sure he’d been moved.

The smell.

This was some sort of infirmary or hospital. It smelled like sickness. Death and dying. Was he next? What sort of soldier dies of the sniffles? Uncle Alphard would be ashamed.

Or he would have been...He was gone now. Sirius winced. The news of his favorite Uncle’s passing was fresh. The letter had only come a week before the nosebleeds began.

Uncle Alphard had been his hero. The only person he could really look up to in that whole god-forsaken family. He was also just about the only blood relation that Sirius had who hadn’t been ashamed of him.

To be fair, the shame went both ways. Having grown up in a house with his 1st cousin, Bellatrix Black, who kissed the ground that Herr Hitler walked on, was not something that Sirius was particularly proud of. Leaving aside the constant rumors that she was intimately close to the Führer and may or may not be pregnant with his horrible Nazi hellspawn. Sirius didn’t even believe that last bit, but he felt sure that Bella wished it were true. She’d had these awful framed photos of him up in her bedroom when they were children. She was living her dream… It disgusted him and he didn’t bring it up if he could help it.

Instead, he attempted to shake off any hints of German in his speech and mannerisms. This was a monumental task for someone who spoke German from the nursery. In truth, he was a quarter British, if that. His mother’s mother was a Granddaughter of Queen Victoria herself. But they’d married Germans, as the British nobility had been wont to do, and consequently, his Mother’s noble house of Black, was about as German as anyone in Europe.

His father was bitter that he never got to wear the crown he had lived his life thinking that he deserved. He’d never fully adjusted. It was a far fall from His Royal Highness Orion, Crown Prince of Saxony, to an untitled exile, taking his wife’s name and live off her relatives' generosity.

Things were always tense at Uncle Cygnus’s generosity and his estate in Berkshire. Sirius and Cygnus’s middle daughter, Andromeda, clung to each other, and their uncle Alphard, in the midst of all these disgruntled Germans. The three of them were all that was left, well before England declared war. The others contended that Herr Hitler had the right idea about the Herrenmenschen. Transparently desperate to be superior to someone after losing their titles, they made their choice.

Sirius felt that he had to make choices of his own, despite being only 15 at the time. He’d opted to stay behind with his best mate from Eton, James Potter, and Uncle Alphard. This decision, and his iron-will refusal to do as he was told, did not go over well.

His mother berated him for his choices, saying he was a traitor to his blood. He said they were traitors to his country. This was the country that had educated him and taught him to be a man more than she ever could. So his parents and younger brother went on their way to support the Fürher and Sirius Black did his damnedest to be an English Gentleman through and through. That was that.

Apparently, being an English Gentleman did nothing to fend off typhoid fever. So he was to convalesce at the rather unpleasant smelling Netley Hospital for the time being.  

Those were amongst the words of the commanding baritone voice, was it a doctor? A medic? How was Sirius supposed to know? He couldn’t bloody see. How did people manage to live like this?

This was going to get old very quickly, if, like the voice informed him, he was going to live through it. Six weeks as a blind invalid?

Bollocks…

“Welcome home, Captain Black” the sound of his name startled him out of his half unconscious state.

“Did you say home? Are you sure about that? I think perhaps I died and went to Hell. Are you Hell’s secretary?”

“I beg your pardon! I’m Sister Marlene McKinnon. I’m charged with taking care of you while you recover here at Netley. So I recommend you be a bit nicer to me. You just asked the woman who’ll handle all your meals and medication for the next… ooooh six weeks is it… if she was Hell’s secretary.”

“And I’m still not convinced that you’re not. Sister Marlene. Are you a nun? I’m afraid I find myself dreadfully blind at the moment. You’ll have to tell me; are you wearing one of those nun head what’s-its?”

“Well, this is going to be an eventful six weeks… No, Captain Black, I’m not a nun. Sister is a rank. Sister is my rank in Queen Alexandra's Imperial Military Nursing Service.”

“Ah yes. Great Aunt Alix. That was the funeral of the season when I was six.” He remarked casually.

“Captain, I don’t care if her Majesty herself was your aunt. You still have to be polite.”

“Do I? Is there a law? ‘Here in Hell, we must be polite’? I must say, that’s unexpected. Here I was thinking the Devil would be lax with the rules. Shows what I know.”

Sirius was pretty sure he heard the woman, Sister Marlene, groan.

“I’ll be back in an hour, Captain Black. Perhaps by then you’ll have reconsidered your attitude.” Her clipped footsteps faded towards what must have been the door.

[artificialqueens]

Beauty in the Sheets - Chapter 2 - (Branjie) - Thankyoumissvanjie

A/N: YOU GUYYYYYS! All these comments and all the sweet words are making me blush. Thank you for engage with it, it really made the difference. So here you have 5k words of these messy little shits.

“I fucked someone from the floor,”

“Brooke Lynn Isabelle Hytes…” Nina buried her head in her hands, wishing that she could go ten minutes back before Brooke had barged into her room with a frantic look in her eyes.

“Though technically I fucked first and then she became part of the floor, so I didn’t actuall-“

“I hate that your ex is a lawyer.” She did. She really did.

LINK TO AO3

“Me?”

“You’re the bitch who always gets the last freshly baked croissant down at the Starbucks on Monday mornings. Hoe, I’ve been wanting to yell at you for three months,” Pointing her finger at her, she made an intimidating presence, despite her small size.

“Okay?” Brooke’s brows furrowed in confusion as she tried to process what Vanjie was saying.

Croissants?

“Bitch, you know how much I need a warm and flaky piece of french tastiness on a Monday morning? Do you?” The juxtaposition of the petite woman in front of her couple with the angry and loud tenor of her voice, made Brooke feel blindsided.

What the fuck, was she on about?

“From the way you’re acting, I am guessing a lot?”

“A fuck ton, Mary. I swear, you been on my shit list forever - always walking in front of me in yo’ perfect hair and yoga pants stealing my Monday morning pastry fantasy! What you got to say for yourself?” Vanessa slowly walked towards her as her voice got louder, ending right in front of her, her neck craned to keep eye contact.

There was something about those eyes. Where had she seen those eyes before?

“Uhm… Nothing?”

“Really hoe?”

“That croissant is the only carb I let myself eat during the week. So really, I won’t apologize.” Shrugging, she walked passed Vanjie, putting down her bags on the bed that wasn’t filled with half a Mac store of products and four dresses.

“You one of them hoes that don’t let themselves live? You for real?”

“Okay. This is quite simple. I go there every Monday at 8:45, get my coffee and croissants and go down to the counter. I am neither aiding or abetting in you not getting your “Monday morning pastry fantasy”, as you so aptly put it,” She really couldn’t see the problem. So she got that last croissant? There were other places to get one than that Starbucks - though Liam always made the best espresso.

“Aiding and abetting? What you on about?”

“If you are looking for a culprit, maybe you should talk to the guy working there? I am just an innocent bystander” She couldn’t believe that she was throwing Liam under the bus. But the angry and, quite frankly, beautiful woman in front of her made her want to be on her good side.

Not that she could do anything about it.

“Now why would I do my man Liam dirty? He always be remembering my name and drank?”

“And yet he never saves a croissant for you? You sure, he’s your man?” Her raised eyebrow challenged Vanessa to contradict her.

I am so sorry, Liam. But I just want this beautiful woman to stop yelling at me.

“Shit, you right. Goddammit, Liam, I thought we had something special,”

“Yeah well…” Brooke laughed a bit, as she saw Vanessa calming down. “So you want to try this again?” She put her hand out, hoping that they could restart.

Still. There was something about those eyes.

“Yeah, sorry girl, I take my Monday mornin’ rituals serious,” the sheepish smile she sent her way, was enough to make up for the angry poking she had done a few seconds ago.

“I get it, so uhm. Hi, I’m Brooke,” She did her best at not feeling the tingle that ran up her hand as Vanessa grabbed it with hers. Softly shaking it.

“And I’m Vanjie.”

She was cute.

Brooke was fucked.

She was still basking in the afterglow, her muscles sore and mind fussy.

Bella was sitting in the window smoking, still naked.

The moonlight was lighting up her body, showcasing her perfection. Vanjie took the moment to really look at her. She admired her athletic build. The way she was so unapologetic sexual, her long legs and perfect tits on display with no care for who saw them.

How the hell had she managed to seduce this glamazon of a woman?

As her eyes were tracing the lines of her body, she noticed something under one of Bella’s breasts, what that a tattoo?

“Bitch, you have a tattoo?” The words tumbled out of her mouth, her brain filter still fucked out of commission.

“Huh?” Bella looked over at her on the bed, looking confused, almost as if she had forgotten that Vanjie was still there.

“There?” It took effort to lift her hand and point, her body weak and exhausted.

“Oh, that… Yeah. Got it years ago. Went through a phase, wanted to do something stupid and thought, why not get the infinity sign tattooed underneath my boob… You know, as you do?” She sounded bored. Her whole demeanour changed, but maybe that was just Vanjie reading too much into it.

“Giiiiiiirl,” Vanjie was surprised, it seemed so out of character for someone like Bella to have such a dumb tattoo.

“I know.” She smiled wryly as she stubbed her cigarette and threw it out the window. “So, do you need money?” The change in subject and her business-like tone of voice caught her completely off guard.

“…What?”

“Money? For an Uber?” She slowly went over to a chair and picked up a black satin robe, instantly making Vanjie feel very naked and exposed.

What was going on?

“Why would I need that?”

“We’re on the upper east side and it’s 4 AM, are you really going to walk home in those heels?”

The bitch was kicking her out. Wow. Usually, it was Vanjie doing this to the women she brought home.

“You kicking me out?” She couldn’t help but laugh slightly, almost impressed that this was happening to her and not the other way around.

“Uhm, Yeah? So. You need any cash to get home?”

“Hoe, I got my own money,”

“Right, okay. Uhm… Bye?” And then she walked into the bathroom, clearly indicating that she expected her to be gone when she got back out.

This bitch.

Vanjie got up on shaky legs, chuckling a bit to herself, as she tried to find her clothes, already dreading the fact that she would have to go home with no underwear on.

Seeing her dress and shoes thrown carelessly at the dinner table made her thoughts drift to earlier in the evening, and how Bella had taken her apart right there.

Fuck. She could feel herself get wet all over again.

She heard the shower start, as she put on her clothes, realising that she would probably have to get a move on.

Seeing a notepad on the table, she quickly got an idea.

I had fun. Call me if you wanna try for eight. - V

202-555-0174

She quickly got out of the apartment, fishing her phone out of her bag and dialling a number that she knew all too well.

“Bitch, you best be getting ready to spend all you money on lipsticks, cause I just got laid by the lesbian club goddess!”

They were all sitting in groups. Nina realised that there were a time and place to make all her employees mingle, and tonight was not the night. So she let it slide, as she chose to sit next to the Khiel’s girl, knowing that she probably played favourite with them, seeing as her best friend worked there.

“So apparently, I have been stealing Vanjie’s Monday morning croissants for months?” Brooke looked confused at all of them, as she stabbed one of the tomatoes on her plate.

“Holy shit, that’s you?” Nina had dealt with Vanjie’s supposed croissant thief for a couple of months. A matter that wasn’t really her problem, but something she chose to deal with because she found the small woman hilarious, her outbursts so ridiculous, that they were like watching live comedy.

“Nina! See! I told you, it wasn’t me! I told you!” Katya knocked her hand loudly on the table, her eyes wide with indignation.

“Vanjie came and yelled in my office about a blonde bitch from Khiel’s and you seemed like the obvious choice.” Nina shrugged happily biting into a fry, as Katya gasped at her.

“Mama, I am offended and shocked that you would hear the words ‘blonde’ and ‘bitch’ and not think of Miss Hytes first.”

“Ob-fucking-jection!” Brooke’s indignant voice was paired with a surprised look on her face, as she turned and slapped Katya on the shoulder, the older blonde laughing at her.

“One, Katya… Really hon, are you? And Brooke, I’m going to deny that. I love you, but you’re a bitch.” Brooke placed a hand over her heart as she huffed, trying to play the victim even though she knew that Nina was right. She could be a bit of a bitch.

“Barbara please, I am an upstanding citizen, I would never steal someone’s croissant - now Miss Hytes over here, that’s a whole different matter,” The signature wheezing laughter followed, as Katya bumped her shoulder playfully into the other blonde’s shoulder  

“How can I steal someone’s croissant, if I am paying for it with my own money? I mean, where’s the proof? Where are the witnesses of this supposed crime?” She looked at both of them, and at Shuga, Chad and Detox who had all listened to their conversation in quiet amusement.

“Bitch…”

“Here we fucking go again…”

“I hate that you know so many lawyers”

As the whole table erupted into loud laughter, Brooke frowned down at her salad.

“No more than I do,” Nina heard Brooke’s muttering, the annoyed tone making her worried.

Two tables over all the Mac Girls were huddled together, comparing their rooms, trying to figure out who had gotten the sweeter deal

“So how’s it going with the Ice Queen?” A’keria cackled as she asked, still not over the fact that Vanjie had been the one to get the Icy blonde as her companion for the weekend. Just her luck.

“She the croissant stealer,” Vanjie muttered as she took a sip of the wine in front of her

“What?” Silky was almost yelling, not giving a damn that her mouth was full.

“I said, she the good damn croissant thief!” Vanjie’s voice was louder than a steam train, which was thankfully drowned out by the laughs over at Brooke’s table.

“You’re kiddin’!”

They had all had to deal with Vanjie’s yelling every Monday morning because some blonde woman always seemed to get the last fresh croissant at the corner Starbucks.

Vanjie didn’t care that she could buy them at literally any other coffee shop - she wanted it from that one.

“Nope… She that hoe,” she shook her head, as she gulped down the last of her wine. “But you know what, bitch said something that got me thinkin’. How come Liam ain’t ever save one for me? He there every Monday, he sees it happening. Why ain’t he helping a hoe out?”

“Oh, so she one of them clever bitches, since she got you to change your mind” Silky had to admire any person, that could manage to get an angry Vanjie to see reason, as she was more stubborn than a bull.

“Yeah, used all fancy words and shit.”

“She’s also hot,” A’keria’s waggling eyebrows and Silky’s smirk made Vanjie roll her eyes. Those two hoes, always trying to set her up ever since they found out that she was a lesbian.

“Sure, if you into that uptight lady thing, you know me, I like my women more down and dirty,” Though she had to admit that Brooke was hot in a suburb wine mom kinda way.

“You like them blondes tho,”

That she did. Especially if they had a dominating streak, stupid infinity tattoos and a love for the number seven.

She hadn’t called.

Not that she had expected her to. To be honest, it seemed like a long shot. But still, it had felt like they had something, a connection.

“Look happy, you workin’ bitch.” Vanjie quickly stuffed her phone down the drawer with all their makeup samples, putting on her best “Hi, I work in retail” smile.

“Yeah, I know, Silk.”

“You still sighin’ over that blonde? Honey, she was pretty, but you need to move on, it’s been weeks.” She bumped into her shoulder, on her way to restock their lipsticks.

Honestly, what was it with those white hoes and Russian Red?

“If someone gave you seven orgasms in one night, you would’ve been sighin’ too!”

“Seven?” Silky looked at her over her glasses, looking more shook than the day she learned that you could get twinkies fried in cookie dough.

“Se-ven, Mary. I swear I couldn’t feel my toes or fingers for like two hours after,” Vanjie wiggled her fingers at her while smirking.

“That just seems excessive, also you nasty!” Silky shook her head, laughing at her friend’s antics, as she sat on one of the makeup chairs swirling back and forth.

“You just jealous,”

“You’re fucking right I am. Ain’t no dick in the goddamn universe that could give me seven orgasms"

“So lemme get this straight, yo skinny white ass don’t eat carbs during the week?” Vanjie yelled from the bedroom as Brooke laid the finishing touches on her nightly skincare routine.

Brooke loved her routine. It was therapeutic and calming. Something she took great joy in doing, as it gave her time to really relax. A feeling she didn’t let herself experience that often.

“I’m 33-years-old, hon. This body won’t stay slim if I eat pastries every day,” Brooke needed to look her best. It was imperative to every single aspect of her life that she always presented herself as beautiful - something to be admired and something to aspire to.

Out on one of the single beds, Vanjie was scrolling through her phone, liking everything and anything that she came across on Instagram.

“I don’t think that’s gon’ be a problem, mama.” She muttered, hoping that the older woman wouldn’t hear, afraid that she would notice the way Vanjie had admired her after they came back to their room.

“What?”

“I said, I think you’re overreacting,”

Nice save, Vanj.

“Nope, I’m just realistic,” Brooke came out of the bathroom, her hair falling in soft waves down her shoulders, the large round glasses gone from their usual spot, as she was getting ready to go to bed.  

“You look mighty familiar, Mama,” There was just something about her that Vanjie recognised from somewhere else. Though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

“We work together?” Brooke shrugged as she walked towards her bed.

“No, it ain’t that. I just- Holy fuck,” Vanjie dropped her phone. Staring at Brooke with a mixture of surprise, awe and… Anger?

“What? Is there something on my face? I know that I look weird without glasses and makeup,” Brooke started touching her face to see if she had some leftover cream on her chin or something.

“You’re Bella.” The name made her heart stop.

“What?”

“You’re Bella. Holy Shit,” Brooke went pale, as she tried to figure out how she had fucked up that badly.

How hadn’t she seen it before? Looking closer at Vanjie, she could see it now. Maybe it was the absence of alcohol in her blood that had made it difficult to remember. But now she saw it.

Vanessa.

Fuck.

“What. The. Fuck? You been hiding right down at Khiel’s all this time?” Vanjie’s tiny fists were clenched as she looked ready to either bolt up and flee the room or fight Brooke with her bare hands.

“Vanessa… Oh. Shit.” She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to make it all fit inside her head. Vanessa had worked at the same place as her this whole time?

Nina was going to kill her.

“Shit is right, mama. Were you just not going to say anything?” Her steely glare created a knot in Brooke’s stomach, her hands fiddling with the strings of her sleeping shorts, trying to figure out a delicate way, to tell the truth.

“Uhm, I honestly didn’t recognise you?” Judging by the look of anger in Vanjie’s eyes, that hadn’t been it.

“Well, fuck you too, Brooke.” Shaking her head at her, she marched out of their room, the door slammed loudly behind her.

Leaving Brook alone in the room. Sighing as she sat down on the bed.

“Good job, Brooke. Perfect,”

The studio apartment was silent.

After Vanessa had left, Brooke had gone back to the window to smoke some more. Her body was sore and tired, while her mind was quiet.

It wasn’t often that she took anybody home with her, usually following their lead, not wanting to risk him seeing any evidence of her weekend activities.

But there had been something about the tiny brunette. The way she had fit in her arms, how her eyes almost shone in the light from the streetlamps.

She wanted to see her in her home.

Wanted her apartment to be tainted by her.

She wanted to remember the way those thighs had clench around her face as she came when she was sitting at her dinner table.

Wanted to remember the moans and her begging as she sat on her couch watching the news.

And most of all she wanted to remember the way her hair has been splayed all over her pillow as she took her apart on her very own bed.

So they went to her apartment.

A decision she would probably hate in the morning, together with the soreness of her limbs and the headache from the tequila.

But right now, she was happy with that decision.

She walked out into the kitchen to get a glass of water and some preemptive aspirin, before going to bed and that was when she saw it.

A note on her dinner table.

It made her smile

The frantic knocking woke her from her almost slumber on the bed. She wanted to ignore it, she had felt like a chaperone for 40 teenagers today, and she just needed to sleep.

“Nina, please!”

Except, when it’s your best friend who apparently decides that midnight is an appropriate time to need her.

She so wanted to ignore the door but knew she couldn’t. So she dragged her body from the bed, and opened the door, not caring that she was wearing her big Lion King nightshirt, Brooke had seen it countless of times anyway.

The moment she opened the door, Brooke stormed in not saying a word and immediately began pacing back and forth in her room.

Nina rubbed her eyes, trying to wake up a bit, knowing that breakdown from Brooke could take ages to solve - especially if it had anything to do with Patrick.

“She hates me,” Brooke muttered as she kept on walking the length of Nina’s hotel room, trying to figure out what she was supposed to do.

“Who? Oh… Vanjie? Because of the croissants? Give her some credit, B,” Nina was tired, a tiny bit drunk on wine and really not in the mood to suffer one of her best friend’s neurotic breakdowns.

“She thinks I’m a total bitch.” She ran a hand over her face, her voice high pitched and worried.

“Honey, I hate to be the bearer of ill news. But you are a bitch.“ Nina shrugged.

It was one of the many reasons she loved Brooke - she was so unapologetic in everything she did. It often translated into bitchiness, but it was a breath of fresh air, to know a person that was always frank with you.

"I know, but it’s not all that I am. You don’t understand. Nina. Please just give me another room.” She was talking fast, her hands curled into fists as she walked back and forth, her nervous energy making her appear fragile.

“Why does she think that though, what could you possibly-” Nina added it all up in her head and knew.

She just knew.

“No… Brooke, please tell me that you didn’t…” She hoped that she was wrong. That her intuition was off just this once.

But the way Brooke stopped pacing and looked at her apologetic told her everything she needed to know.

“You fucked her?” The minuscule nod knocked the air out of her. “Brooke, what did I tell you? What was my one rule?”

Such an easy rule.

“Don’t fuck anyone from the floor,” She was looking down at the carpet, somehow managing to look like a child getting scolded by her mother.

“And what did you do?” Nina felt a bit like her mother, trying to make reprimand her. It wasn’t because there were actual rules against fraternising with your colleagues on the floor.

But Nina knew how Brooke worked.  

“I fucked someone from the floor,”

“Brooke Lynn Isabelle Hytes…” Nina buried her head in her hands, wishing that she could go ten minutes back before Brooke had barged into her room with a frantic look in her eyes.

“Though technically I fucked first and then she became part of the floor, so I didn’t actuall-“

“I hate that your ex is a lawyer.” She did. She really did.

Brooke was too good at finding technicalities and holes in any rule, agreement or pact. It was an advantage if she was on your team, but a pain in the ass if she was working against you.

“Will you just shut the fuck up about Patrick? Please, can I get one moment without him in my goddamn life?” Brooke’s voice cracked at the end of the sentence, her face pained.

The outburst stunned Nina. It had been ages since Brooke had last complained about the man that had once been a big part of their friendship.

Was that why she was so tense?

“Sorry, babe.” She got up from the bed and slowly walked towards her. Trying to gauge if this was a hugging moment or an “if you touch me I will hit you” situation - with Brooke those two were almost identical.

“No. I’m the one who’s sorry. Just… Can we get me a new room?” Her voice was low, pleading with her to forgive her and help her.

“Wish I could, but they are all booked,” Placing a hand on her shoulder Nina tried to send Brooke a reassuring smile. Hoping that she could calm her down.

“Well, shit.”

Knowing that it was probably a lost cause.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Miss Hytes is your lucky lady seven?” Vanjie was pacing up and down the hall on the 6th floor. Leaning against the wall was Silky. She looked tired, but also entirely too amused at Vanjie’s predicament.

“Silk, don’t talk so loud,” The brunette hissed, trying to make her understand that this information needed to be kept on the down-low.

“But… Didn’t you say her name was Bella?” Vanjie gave her a nod in confirmation before she turned to restart her pacing “Damn… Lil uptight white missy is a regular player. Gotta admit, didn’t think that skinny bitch had it in her.” Her laugh echoed through the hall, as she tried to make the glass wearing ice queen fit with

“Focus, Mary!!” She clapped at Silky, needing her advice right about now.

“Vanj, come on. Did you expect that a woman with those glasses and that perfect bun, would be your sex goddess from the club? Cause I sure as shit didn’t.” Neither had Vanjie. She was still in shock that the lady who stole her croissant was also the same woman who had sexually ruined her for anyone else.

“Well, no… But that ain’t important. What am I ‘sposed to do? We be rooming together,” she was almost vibrating with the nervous energy, her eyes wide as she looked almost pleadingly at Silky, hoping that her best friend could help her.

“You gonna fuck her?”

“No! Yes. I don’t know?” It was the only thing she had been able to think about. Her mind wasn’t sure, but her body had been tingling with anticipation ever since she had laid eyes on Bella.

Fuck. Brooke.

“Boo, she came back around, like a motherfucking doughnut! If you ain’t gonna pick that glazed bitch up and eat her, then you dumber than I thought.”

“I should have called Kiki,” she would’ve hit Vanjie over the head, told her to stop thinking with her pussy and then send her on her way.

“But you didn’t, which means…. you gonna fuck her?” Silky shimmied her shoulders, her eyes filled with mirth as she looked expectantly at her.

“I…”

She didn’t know.

She opened the door with trepidation, not sure if she wanted it to be empty or not.

As the room was blissfully silent, she felt a whiff of disappointment in her stomach, clearly having hoped subconsciously that Vanjie would’ve been there.

Brooke walked over to her bed. Almost collapsing onto it.

She felt idiotic that she hadn’t immediately recognised her. She remembered that night, no she cherished it. The thought Vanessa’s moans and screams were intoxicating and had helped her get off countless times in the last couple of weeks.

Maybe she just didn’t want to remember her? Afraid of what might happen.

She had seen the number that Vanessa had left on a scrap of paper that night. Had even programmed it into her phone with the fantastical notion of maybe texting her.

Flirting with the thought of seducing her once again, knowing that she never would.

Because she couldn’t.

She wasn’t in the position to start seeing someone regularly, not even if it was just for sex. That was why she had a whole routine, and why she had sent Vanessa on her way in the middle of the night.

It was easier to never get too close to anyone. It would only end in hurt when she inevitably had to break it off.

The door opened and in stepped Vanessa. She looked almost determined.

She closed the door behind her, locking it in the process. Her back rested against it.

She seemed filled to the brink with nervous energy. Her foot tapping against the carpet and her eyes never settling on a single spot for more than a few seconds at a time.

Oh.

She was horny.

Brooke had her rules, had her carefully planned routines, and boundaries. But really, when had it ever hurt anyone to fuck their way out of trouble? This situation couldn’t possibly get any worse, so why not to do what she did best, and fuck the pain away?

Brooke felt herself grin, as she got up from her bed, sauntering towards Vanessa. Feeling like a lioness stalking its prey.

She knew they needed to talk, but they might as well do that after an orgasm.

Vanessa’s eyes were following her every move, her lips slightly parted, breath stuck somewhere in her throat.

No makeup, a pair of sleeping shorts and a white top, and yet, she was still the sexiest woman that Vanjie had ever laid her eyes on.

It wasn’t fair.

Knowing that Bella and Brooke were one and the same was intoxicating. As she came closer, she could feel herself getting wet, the excitement blooming low in her stomach.

She knew they needed to talk.

But she had masturbated to the thought of that night for weeks. Knowing that the woman who was capable of giving her seven orgasms in one night was within her reach made all thought of adult conversation leave her mind.

Stopping two inches from her, Brooke leaned down, her hair cascading over Vanjie, the soft locks lightly touching her chin.

“Eight?” The whisper made her knees weak, but at the same time also cautious.

“Bitch, you want me to die? Ain’t no way I could come that much, I nearly had permanent nerve damage after the last tim-“ a long pale finger was placed against her lips, effectively shutting her up, her eyes wide.

“I meant as in - you’ve had seven, ready for number eight?” The smirk on her lips coupled with the devious look in her eyes made her happy that she had a wall to lean against. “But I’m honoured you have such trust in my ability.”

Leaning down once more, her lips started trailing down her neck. The touch feather-light. Making it hard for Vanjie to think.

“Mama. You hot as motherfucking sin. You’re a-a walking glamazon with short nails, a lesbian dreamboat, how can I not?” Her fingers were inching their way under her shirt, making her gasp as they came in contact with her skin.

“Lesbian dreamboat, huh?” The word was whispered directly into her ear, as her fingers reached the underside of her breasts.

And stayed there.

Waiting for an answer.

“You know you sex on legs, don’t be playin’” Vanjie clenched her thighs together, leaning her head back. Wanting to beg, but the words lodged somewhere deep in her throat.

“Okay then. Here or on the bed?” A kiss was placed on the corner of her mouth, making her head spin. The softness of those lips something she had fantasised about for weeks.

“I-I…” the words just wouldn’t come out.

Brooke chuckled lightly at her.

“Here it is, then”.

And suddenly she was all over her.

Her hands pushed Vanjie’s sleeping shirt over her head, gasping as the colder air hit her nipples.

Vanjie’s lips were captured in a bruising kiss, not so much a fight for control, but rather her handing it over to Brooke.

Pinching one of Vanjie’s nipples, she drew a moan out of her, as her lips slowly trailed down her neck and then right down the middle of her cleavage.

Her knees softly hit the carpeted floor as her hands started pulling on the lacy underwear.

“Imma get real mad if you rip these, too.” The breathy voice made Brooke’s hands stop, the fabric caught on Vanjie’s hips.

“How mad?” The calculated look in Brooke’s eyes as she looked from the lace in the front of her and back up at her, made Vanjie realise that this woman was dangerous.

“Bitch…”

“I’ll be good,” the declaration was underlined with a sweet kiss on her hip.

Dangerous.

“Baby, you ain’t ever been good a whole day in your life,”

“You’re right” and then she ripped the lace, the room silent for a moment, as she looked challenging at Vanjie, daring her to get angry. Daring her to do anything. “I’ve been great every day of my life,”

“Bi-oh fuck,”

Before she even got the word out, her lips were on her. Licking, tasting and sucking. She hummed and moaned, the vibrations making Vanjie’s knees weak and unsteady.

Without taking a break, Brooke’s hands first slowly pushed one knee over her shoulder, which was quickly followed by the other.

So very dangerous.

Vanjie’s moans filled the room, Brooke’s tongue unrelenting as it thrust into her, while her hands were grabbing her thighs in a bruising hold.

She was close.

The sheer demonstration of power, the expertise of her tongue and the slight pain from her hands were sinful, Vanjie’s whole body floating on a cloud of ecstasy.

As Brooke lavished attention on her clit, Vanjie felt herself get closer. Her body building up to something that felt almost too big, too scary.

This fucking woman.

“Ah… Ah.” Her hands were holding onto Brooke’s locks, though she had difficulty in figuring out if she wanted her closer or further away.

She felt like she was getting ready to jump off a cliff without knowing how close the ground was.

“I’m- I’m-“ her moans were getting louder, probably waking their neighbours.

And then her teeth softly, almost like a feather, grazed that tight nub of nerves and she was gone.

Falling off that cliff, her heart seemed to beat in double time, her muscles all contracted as wave upon wave of agonising pleasure hit her.

For a moment the world seemed to turn white before it exploded into a firework of colours.

Without her really knowing how, Brooke slowly lowered her down to the floor, her legs gliding off her shoulders, as she peppered kisses all over Vanjie.

None of them cared that they left sticky marks behind, nor did they notice that Brooke’s lips tasted of Vanjie as she softly kissed her.

“Holy fuck,” she whispered, feeling a small smile against her lips. “Fuck babe, did you even come?”

“Oh, Vanessa. We’re not even close to being finished,”

So very fucking dangerous.  

[cycwrites]

A Taste of Home

A post-Nowish, Mitchsen-centric, drabble prompt from the Master Beta, @tiny-maus-boots. Sorry this took so long, Nerd.

Takes place in some nebulous future after Beca signs with DJ Khaled, puts out an album and goes on tour.

Rating: Teen

Words: 4236

Also on AO3 and FFN

All my other stories in this series: Tumblr  AO3

~B~

“Vienna sucks.”

“Beca.” Chloe half chided, half soothed. “You’re just tired, love.”

Beca slumped in the chair at the desk in her hotel suite. “I am not. It’s still fucking freezing here.” She resolutely ignored the fact that she’d just been rubbing her eyes like a toddler. She could clearly see the concern in Chloe’s face over their sometimes fuzzy Skype video chat and she wanted to stop whining but it was just too much effort.

At first being on tour had been fun and amazing, except all her girls had jobs and couldn’t take a nine month sabbatical to travel the globe with her. Still, the excitement of the crowds and the energy had been enough to keep her going, along with the frequent video chats whenever they had time, individually or together. She was home for a week or two every couple of months for R&R, but after the first six months the novelty was wearing a little thin once the concert was over for the night.

Then Theo had starting pushing on her to maybe extend the tour since she was doing so well, add a few more months to the end which would extend it to almost a full year of travel. At first he was subtle about it, but then it became almost daily; if it wasn’t directly after her concerts than it was the following morning when they were getting ready to fly to the next stop.

“How can I help?” Chloe asked gently.

“You can’t.” It came out petulant and she knew it. “You’re more miles away than I care to think about.” Just the memory of Chloe’s arms around her, something she hadn’t felt in a month, was almost enough to bring her to tears. “Theo is being an annoying turtle, no one can make a decision without my input and I just want them to leave me alone so I can rest.” The whine was in full force but she couldn’t stop it; she knew her voice was cracking and the absolute last thing she wanted to do was have a tantrum about being on fucking tour when she knew it was the at least the fourth best thing to happen to her. (The first was Chloe, the second was Staubrey and third was the rest of the Bellas if anyone had cared to ask her.)

“Oh, Becs,” Chloe whispered and reached out to touch her laptop.

Beca flinched and realized that she’d been incorrect before; the absolute last thing she wanted was for Chloe to be sad and not have any way to comfort her. Of course, the fact that she was directly responsible for making Chloe sad made her feel even worse.

‘Jesus Christ, get your shit together,’ she told herself harshly. ‘Boohoo, you’ve got a top ten selling album and people are paying to see you sing every two to three days. Cry me a fucking river.’

She shook her head and forced herself to sit upright. “I’m sorry, Chloe. I’m fine, really.” Chloe’s expression didn’t change and she knew she hadn’t fooled Chloe in the slightest.

“Tell that to the dark circles under your eyes.” Chloe put her elbow on the desk and propped her chin on her hand.

Beca sighed and felt pathetic as she muttered, “Bed’s too bigsmall.” It was the curse of being used to a nine foot bed filled with three other bodies; it was also definitely one of the worst things about being on the road. She’d tried sleeping aids but all they did was make her groggy for a good fifteen hours, no matter how much sleep she’d gotten the night before. She was making do with melatonin but she still tossed and turned. It was getting just that little bit harder to work up the level of energy she needed to maintain for her concert and it wasn’t like she had a full ninety minutes of twirling around a stage like some artists.

‘Seriously, how the hell does P!nk do this shit for over a year?’ Beca wondered for the nth time since she’d left home.

“I know the feeling.” Chloe said softly. “We miss you.”

“I mis-” Beca stopped when there was a soft knock at her door. “God fucking damnit!” She slammed her hand on the desk. “I told them I didn’t want to be disturbed!”

“Beca,” Chloe sat up and leaned forward. “Don’t-”

“No.” Beca said as she glared at the door across the room. “I specifically told Theo I didn’t want to see him tonight. That I needed to get some sleep. He fucking chucked me under the chin and told me ‘You do look a bit knackered. Get some rest.’”

“I know but…” Chloe started with a sigh; Beca had bitched at his audacity at least twice in the hour they’d been talking.

“And… Okay,” Beca kept going, already launched past her tired frustration into actual anger. “Maybe I shouldn’t have yelled ‘what the fuck do you want’ when room service came by –”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” Chloe murmured. She’d been witness to it and forced Beca to call down to the desk to both apologize and ask that she be undisturbed for the rest of the night.

“So…” The knock came again. “Sonofabitch.” She stood up so hard the chair almost tipped over.

“Beca!” Chloe said but Beca was already stalking to the door.

“I said,” Beca snarled as she ripped open the door, “I do not want to be dis-…” She blinked three times, sure she was hallucinating. Maybe even having a stroke or something. Maybe she had brain damage. Because Aubrey could not be standing in front of her. In her hotel. In Vienna. Aubrey was at home. Being an amazing lawyer. With Chloe and Stacie.

Except Aubrey was there. Standing in front of her. Wearing faded and ripped blue jeans, a rumpled t-shirt that looked suspiciously like one stolen from Beca’s closet, a leather jacket, her hair in a ponytail and a gym bag slung over her shoulder. And, Beca’s eyes dropped from where she’d been staring into the tired face smiling gently at her, Beca’s Stitch onesie in her hand.

When Beca stood frozen in the doorway, Aubrey gently nudged her backward until she could step into the room and close the door behind her. The second Aubrey dropped the gym bag Beca’s paralysis broke and she threw herself at the blonde, wrapping her arms around Aubrey’s waist. With a soft oof when Beca collided into her, Aubrey cradled her close and tucked Beca’s head under her chin as she stroked her back. Immediately Beca felt warmer than she had since they had landed in Austria a week ago. Aubrey’s warm body relaxed her but it was nothing compared to the warmth of ‘home’ that Aubrey’s scent brought her.

“Baby.” Aubrey whispered.

Beca lifted her head and found Aubrey’s lips already waiting. The soft kiss soothed the last of Beca’s frayed nerves and she felt almost lightheaded as the tension left her. She parted her lips and Aubrey slipped inside, deepening the connection; reassuring more than building the fire that was always banked between them.

When they broke apart, Beca sighed and rested her ear against Aubrey’s heart, listening to the strong comforting beat. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too, love.” Aubrey squeezed her again. “Chloe sent me.” Aubrey pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Stacie sent this.” She jiggled the hand holding the onesie.

“Oh shit!” Beca jerked upright. “Chloe’s on Skype!” She stepped back, taking Aubrey’s free hand and tugged her over to the desk where she found Chloe waiting patiently with a happy smile and a single tear running down her face. Sometime in the last few minutes Stacie had appeared behind her, her chin propped on Chloe’s shoulder. “You guys… I…” She went to sit but Aubrey beat her to it then pulled Beca into her lap. “I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell me.”

“Can’t ruin the surprise, B.” Stacie blew a kiss at her. “Plus Chloe tells me that you might need a lawyer anyway because you’re going to kill some innocent hotel staff person for doing their job.”

Beca winced. “Not one of my finer moments.”

“No.” Chloe agreed but smiled to take the sting from it. “But this is still new and strange and while you’ve come a long way from the ‘I don’t even sing’ girl we met years ago, sometimes…”

“Change and I don’t get along.” Beca sighed as Aubrey rubbed her back. “I still can’t believe you stealth sent Aubrey like a cuddle ninja.”

“And now that she’s there,” Chloe looked past Beca. “You’re gonna put our girl to bed so she can stop being a cranky pants about sleeping alone.”

“To be fair,” Aubrey laughed. “I remember you being disgruntled the last time none of us could stay overnight at one of your competitions.”

“I have no memory of this. You must be super jet-lagged.” Chloe said innocently. She stuck out her tongue when Stacie poked her in the side.

“We’ll talk again tomorrow,” Stacie said. “We’re going to hang up on you now. I’ve gotta get back to work, but I came home to see the big reveal when Aubrey texted us she landed.”

Beca checked the clock. It was almost 9pm in Vienna so it was only 1pm back home. “I love you guys.” She reached out and pressed her fingertips to her screen. “Thank you.”

“Have a good rest of your day, loves.” Aubrey said, her hand resting over Beca’s on the monitor.

“We love you both.” Chloe smiled gently.

“Maybe now that you’re in good hands, you can sleep.” Stacie paused and Beca knew what was coming. “Or not sleep becauseyou’re in good hands.”

“How long did you take to think that up?” Aubrey asked affectionately.

“Just now.” Stacie shrugged. “I’m good with my mouth.”

“You mean with words.” Chloe half turned to look at her.

“That too.” Stacie shrugged and looked back at the monitor. “It’s killing me to do it, but I really am going to disconnect now.” She smiled gently. “You really do need to get some sleep, Beca. Let Aubrey take care of you. I love both of you.”

“I will.” Beca promised, feeling sleep eagerly tugging at her for the first time in what felt like months. ‘Probably since the last time I was home,’ Beca mused.

“Love you too.” Aubrey said just before Stacie hung up.

They sat there a moment more, Beca having turned sideways to cuddle, before Aubrey’s yawn startled them with its suddenness and volume.

“Oh Bree,” Beca reluctantly stood up and offered a hand. “You must be exhausted. It’s like, what, thirteen hours if you’re lucky to get a direct flight?”

“I may have had dad help me with the arrangements.” Aubrey took her hand and rose to her feet and picked up the onesie she’d draped over the chair. “Plus I got a few hours’ sleep on the plane, but… yeah. Sleeping sounds really good about now.” She held out the outfit. “Stacie says you have to sleep in it since you’ve been cold. She doesn’t want to lose any of your important bits to frostbite. She says, and I quote, ‘I’m too fond of her goodies to risk it.’” She pursed her lips. “Personally I think it’s because of that day you told her it made you feel like she was hugging you.”

Touched at her girls’ thoughtfulness, Beca laughed and took it. “Alright. C’mon, bathroom is over here.”

Aubrey followed her, detouring to grab her bag from beside the door. “This is a pretty nice suite they’ve got you in.”

Beca shrugged one shoulder, still not used to having a multi room suite just for herself. “It’s too much for me. I generally just stick to the bedroom or curl up on the couch when they get me these.” The room was nothing compared to the opulent setup that Khaled had had back on the USO tour, but they generally had a separate bedroom and master bath, a sitting room and sometimes a secondary room that was usually set up like an office. “I feel stupid complaining about it… ungrateful maybe.” She rolled her eyes at herself and voiced her earlier thoughts. “‘Oh boohoo and woe is me. I’m quasi famous and people pay to watch me sing.’”

“But you don’t even sing.” Aubrey flashed a smile at her that Beca couldn’t help but return. “But I can see how it could be lonely,” Aubrey offered as they walked into the bedroom where she set her bag down and began unpacking it. “I’m sorry we couldn’t be with you sooner.”

“Sometimes the band comes up.” Beca shrugged as she watched Aubrey pull out clothes that were still somehow neatly folded even though they had come out of a duffle bag. “Theo and a few of the other brass types make an appearance.” She smiled fondly as Aubrey put her clothes in with Beca’s in various drawers. “We haven’t lit the place on fire yet though, so I don’t know if that counts as a rager by your standards.”

“Pfft.” Aubrey said as she folded the bag and set it on top of the dresser before grabbing her toiletry case.

“You want to shower before bed?” Beca asked as they walked into the bathroom where Aubrey whistled at the size of the walk in shower and the whirlpool bath.

“As heavenly as that tub looks,” Aubrey said wistfully, “I think just want to wash my face, brush my teeth and curl up in that small bed with you.” She opened up her case and began to unpack it just as efficiently as she had the duffle, lining her things next to Beca’s.

Beca chuckled. “Aubrey, that’s a queen sized bed.”

“Right. Small.” Aubrey looked at Beca through the mirror and smiled. “Someone’s gotten me used to something bigger.”

Beca shrugged. “Guilty.” She moved over to the counter, setting her designated pj’s on it. “I must be tired because I know I should be turning that into a super dirty innuendo but I don’t have the energy.”

“I’ll say it tomorrow.” Aubrey offered as she began to wash her face. “Stacie would be disappointed in us both if we let it go.”

“You do love me!” Beca joked as she did the same.

“You’re my moon,” Aubrey said simply after she’d rinsed and Beca felt the threat of tears swelling at the back of her eyes.

“You’re our Earth.” Beca stroked Aubrey’s arm, still partially unable to believe she was actually there.

“Sap.” Aubrey sniffed slightly but Beca could clearly see her own emotions reflected back at her.

They finished cleaning up after the long day, brushing their teeth and hair, before changing into their pj’s: Beca in her Stitch onesie, though she left the hood off, and Aubrey in a pair of sleep pants that looked like ones Chloe had worn in college and… Beca laughed when she realized what Aubrey had pulled on. “Is that my Boob Man hoodie?”

“Maybe.” Aubrey turned off the bathroom light and Beca turned on the lamp beside the bed. For Beca’s 24th birthday, post Fourth of July drunken party videos, Stacie had gotten Beca a hoodie that said “I’m A Boob Man.” Aubrey had put her foot down on including a picture of Beca’s hands on her chest even though Stacie had promised to leave out their faces.

“I wondered where that went.” Beca turned off the main overhead light, watching as Aubrey pulled back the covers and crawled into bed with a grateful sigh. “Should’ve known.”

“Probably.” Aubrey settled into the middle of the bed and looked up expectantly. “Well?”

Beca slid into bed and half curled, half sprawled on Aubrey’s left side. “I still can’t believe you’re here.” She wiggled until she found the right spot and Aubrey’s arms closed around her.

“You needed me.” Aubrey shifted and pulled Beca closer.

“As if it were that simple,” Beca said, thinking of all the planning that had to have happened. Even with General Posen’s help it would’ve cost a pretty penny… though, Beca reminded herself, with the tour sales as well as the album still getting decent numbers, money wasn’t something they had to worry about when things like last minute flights came up.

“It was.” Aubrey’s hand gently stroked her back through the fabric. “You needed us. I was able to come.”

“How long did work let you go for?” Beca asked, not wanting to admit how much she wished Aubrey could stay with her the rest of the tour. She lifted her head when Aubrey hesitated and the smallest bit of tension went through the body under her.

“I…” Aubrey took a deep breath. “I quit.”

“What?” Beca pushed herself up. “You what?”

“Quit.” Aubrey reached up and brushed aside the hair that had fallen into Beca’s eyes. “You know I haven’t been happy there since we got back.”

“Yeah but…” Beca trailed off. “Aubrey, please tell me you did not quit because I’m being a big baby over the fact that I am alone on my tour?” Her brows drew together. ‘Jesus I sound like a spoiled brat.’

“I did not quit because you actually are alone on your first tour since none of us have been able to come with you.” Aubrey met her eyes. “Beca, I haven’t…. Oh I don’t know.” She sighed. “It’s… too routine.”

Beca snorted. “I never expected to hear you say something like that. You’re the Posen with the plan.” Aubrey’s brow arched and Beca said quickly, “Which is important because I never have one and sometimes I need to be kept in line.”

Aubrey’s mouth quirked. “Nice save.”

“Thank you.” Beca watched her, worried. “But to quit?”

“You know when I’ve had the most fun doing deals lately?” Aubrey waited and Beca shook her head. “Negotiating your contract with Khaled’s label. Finalizing the details of your tour.”

“You were kind of amazing at it.” Beca mused.

“It was something new, something other than just getting the most out of an artist for your old label.” Aubrey’s eyes had gone distant but now they focused back on Beca. “And I was wondering if you’d… maybe allow me to be your manager full time.”

“Yes.” Beca said without hesitation. She was currently on her fourth – or was it fifth – manager through the agency recommended by Khaled and she already knew the two of them didn’t mesh and it wasn’t going to last. “I would love you to be my manager, Bree. No one else can boss me around like you can.”

Aubrey laughed. “I don’t think that’s exactly the way it’s supposed to work…”

“Fine, you can boss Theo around for me and keep me from calling him Turtle Man when I get pissed at him.” Beca leaned down and kissed her. “But only if you’re sure.”

“There’s obviously going to be some things we’re going to have to figure out, like… do I need some sort of license or to form a company or…” Aubrey trailed off as she yawned so wide her jaw popped. “But we can talk about it tomorrow.”

“I think you just want to be your own boss.” Beca said as she rolled over to turn off the light before snuggling down again. “But I don’t envy you coming up with a company name.”

“BCS Talent.” The reply was so quick it was like she’d known Beca was going to say it.

“Of course you already have a name. You don’t do anything until you’ve covered all the angles.” Beca laughed and lifted her head again to smile down at her.

“Since you’d be my only client, I pondered ‘Mitchsen Talent.’” Aubrey’s eyes twinkled at her. “But I didn’t want to keep answering questions about why I mashed our names together.”

“Because we mash ourselves together as often as possible.” Beca said, kissing her.

“Yes, but I don’t want to tell strangers that. But this way…” Aubrey stroked her fingers through Beca’s hair. “It’s named after what matters most in my life.”

Beca inhaled deeply through her nose. “I hadn’t… I should’ve… put that together.” She inexplicably felt like crying again, touched beyond all measure at how much thought Aubrey had put into it already.

“Stacie took some convincing. Something about the last time she let me go out of her sight and into another country… But she came around. Chloe took less, once I explained why I wanted to do it.” Aubrey tugged a lock of Beca’s hair. “She has never trusted that your managers had your best interests at heart and not just their own.”

“Probably.” Beca said lightly. “I’ll fire Kas tomorrow.”

“Beca!” Aubrey laughed. “We need to talk first.”

“No, we don’t. You’re my manager and that’s final.” Beca put her head back down on Aubrey’s chest, happier than she could’ve dreamed possible.

“Then as your manager, I’m telling you that we’re going to sit down and talk logistics.” She put her hand over Beca’s mouth as she drew in breath to answer. “Tomorrow. After a giant breakfast that’s going to fill the massive table in the other room.”

Beca nodded and Aubrey slowly removed her hand. “Alright. Whatever you say… manager.” She grinned as Aubrey let out an overly exaggerated sigh. “Bree?”

“Yes, Beca?”

“Thank you for coming to Vienna.” Beca felt Aubrey’s hand on her chin and let her head be tilted up until Aubrey’s lips met hers. When they parted again, she said softly, “You’re not a dream, right?”

“I’ve got you, love.” Aubrey said and kissed her again. “I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“I love you, Aubrey.” Beca kissed her one last time, a lazy comforting stroking of tongues and lips.

“I love you too.” Aubrey’s fingers slipped from her jaw to wrap lightly around the arm across her waist.

Far quicker than she’d gone to sleep since the last time she’d been in their arms in The Expanse, Beca felt herself drawn into slumber, the steady beat of Aubrey’s heart matching her own.

~A~

Aubrey woke to gentle kisses. They were placed delicately at the corner of her mouth, along her jaw, her eyebrow and even her closed eyelid once Beca knew she was awake. She sighed in contentment at the weight resting against her side and the hand drawing designs on her stomach.

“You kept your promise.” Beca said before kissing the tip of Aubrey’s nose.

Aubrey smiled but kept her eyes closed. “A Posen-Conrad always keeps their promises.”

“You guys are good at that.”

Aubrey opened her mouth to answer but Beca’s lips covered hers in a kiss far less chaste than the ones they had exchanged the prior evening. She gave out a happy purr as Beca licked down into her mouth, languid but passionate; unhurried but definitely an indication of how the rest of the morning would go and Aubrey felt desire coiling as the rest of her body woke up.

At least until she opened her eyes, intending to wish Beca what was apparently going to be very good morning and found Beca leaning over her, all sleep tousled and warm…

With the Stitch hoodie pulled up over her head.

Aubrey began to laugh.

Beca propped her head on her right hand, watching as Aubrey fell apart every time she took in the blue ears on top of Beca’s head. Aubrey laughed so loud and so long that she snorted, which caused her to giggle even while she was mortified, but then she’d catch sight of Beca’s patiently waiting face, surrounded by blue fuzzy alien, and she’d lose it all over again. When she’d almost exhausted herself, Beca merely pursed her lips when Aubrey took a peek at her and snickered.

“Aubrey.”

“Yes?” Aubrey let out a giggle, keeping her eyes closed.

“Stacie has made love to me in this onesie.” Beca hadn’t stopped tracing designs on Aubrey’s stomach since the first giggle and now she curved her fingers around Aubrey’s hip. “I don’t see what the problem is.” Her tone was nothing but pure amused affection and despite the fact that she just can’t, Aubrey felt herself melt.

“That’s because you guys are aca-pervs.” Aubrey giggled again, high pitched and borderline hysterical at the image that formed and she knew at some point she and Chloe would have to watch them re-enact that. ‘Would you like to be pot, or kettle?’ she mentally asked herself and snorted again.

“Guess you’ll just have to take it off me.” Beca said silkily in her ear and Aubrey’s laughter tapered off into a moan as Beca’s hand moved up to cover her breast.

“Yes please,” Aubrey breathed as her back arched into her lovers touch.

Beca kissed her. “Let me properly thank you for saving the rest of the team from a very cranky artist.”

“I think, and I mean this from the very bottom of my heart, that the pleasure is about to be mine.” Aubrey’s hands slid over Beca until she found the row of buttons on the onesie. “After I get you out of this and naked.”

Beca smiled at her as Aubrey slowly undid them one by one, humming in anticipation with each inch of skin exposed.

“I love Vienna.”

[anorakofavalon]

Complications in Calcutta Chapter 1

REPOSTED, but this time with the entire first chapter included :)

Brutasha shippers! I’ve recently gotten back into writing fanfiction in order to practice some more writing, and though I usually stick to more fantasy-esque shows, I had a wonderful idea for a Brutasha ship and decided to write it out.

Also on AO3 and FFN.

Summary:

Because of unforeseen events, Fury is forced to send Agent Romanoff to collect Dr. Banner in Calcutta early or risk him being captured by Ross' men. When things inevitably go wrong, Bruce and Natasha are forced to go on the road in order to evade capture. All things considered, though, Natasha doesn't mind too much. The Doc is pleasant company - when he's around, that is. 

A/N: This fic was inspired by the song "Move!" by Saint Motel. Go check out the music video on YouTube. It's a 360 degree virtualizer and it's awesome. Anyways, I listened to the song and had a stray thought about post cards and, well, this was born.

This is a little bit AU, as it takes place before Loki swiped the Tesseract from SHIELD and Clint was brain-washed, maybe by a month or two. Which basically means that Natasha and Banner's meeting got started slightly earlier.

I hope you enjoy my writing, and where I plan to take both Banner and Romanoff.

This man, this dutiful man, has got this sense of devotion.

Chapter 1: A Spider Spies a Scientist

"Agent Romanoff."

The glass door inched closed behind her as she walked into his office with a cup of coffee in her hand. The Director was standing by a window, staring out into the blue of the skies with his hands characteristically clasped behind his back.

Clint used to joke that the glass was the only thing that kept him from reaching down below and controlling things on Earth himself. Sometimes she was sure it was the truth.

Natasha didn't watch him too long. She had been on the helicarrier so often these days that she had gotten sick of looking out of windows, but Nick must have seen something in the vastness that she couldn't.

She quirked a smile when he turned to her. "Fury."

"Long time no see."

She sipped on her coffee as she took a seat."It's been precisely a day and a half. Not that I'm complaining, but you don't usually call in on weekends."

He raised an eyebrow. "It's a Tuesday, Agent Romanoff."

"After dealing with Stark for the past couple of days? Let's just say I'm glad he's wrapped up business here. Feels like a Friday."

"Well then, the good news is it'll be an exciting weekend for you."

Natasha was quite certain that whatever he had in mind would most definitely not be exciting. "What've you got in mind? A party?"

"Something like that. There's been a… complication in Calcutta, Agent. It involves Dr. Banner."

That piqued her interest. Last she had heard, Banner had left Bella Coola and was making his way to Asia. "I'm assuming it's not a complication of the green variety."

"Not quite. Or at least not quite yet. General Ross and his friends seem to have localized our man. It looks like they intend to take him in or take him out. Whichever it is, I'd much rather they didn't."

Natasha grimaced."Ross would be operating out of his jurisdiction by sending men after Banner."

"He's operating on a different jurisdiction entirely. You've read Banner's file Romanoff, I'm sure you can put two and two together. Hate is an international sort of affair."

"You seem strangely attached to the Big Guy, Director." She smirked, glancing up from her raised cup. "Got a crush?"

She wasn't surprised she didn't get a rise out of him – she rarely did – but she was ready to bet that he was amused deep, deep inside.

"Let's just say I have a vested interest in Dr. Banner." He took a seat and pulled something up on a tablet. "I need you to track down and protect our esteemed green scientist. If possible, bring him to us. I was going to wait a little bit, but With Rogers de-icing a few days ago and Stark building up relationships here at SHIELD, we might need him sooner rather than later."

She read through the briefing briefly, pinpointing everything vital. Something caught her eye.

"He's helping people?"

"According to the rumor mill. Foreign man shows up in a city like that and starts offering medicine and care for free? He was bound to get noticed."

She presented her theory carefully. "He must be fairly in control of himself if he's confident enough to go into a city like Calcutta."

"I believe he learned a thing or two during his stay in Canada, Romanoff."

She pushed on. It was a futile question, in so far as neither she nor Fury could get a firm answer to that without talking to the man himself, but she was fishing for something else – she wanted Fury's opinions on the Doc. "So why Calcutta? Why not try to start a life somewhere else?"

Fury looked at her evenly. She was sure he knew what she was searching for, but he decided there was no harm in the truth – though he wouldn't give her all of it. "Bruce Banner is a man who was turned into something he never wanted to be, and hurt people he never wanted to hurt. Maybe he's trying to do what good he can. But if Ross gets his hand on him, that'll be good for no one."

Natasha contemplated it for a moment, and decided she was willing to take on the mission. "How many men has Ross sent out?"

Fury's lip twitched upward. "A significant number."

"So do I get to pick my team this time or is that a privilege reserved for Phil?"

"Agent Romanoff – you are the team."

Fury hadn't lied when he said it would be just her. Well, at least technically. She was the only agent, but she didn't at all come alone or unarmed. She had about twenty foot soldiers, all wielding Hulk-grade weaponry, and all very nervous. Agent Hill said they were Hulk-grade, but that was more of a theoretical. Natasha only hoped that today wouldn't be the day they found out if SHIELD's labs were up to par.

She read Banner's file over for a fourth-or-maybe-fourteenth time as their carrier began a landing sequence. In the picture on the file he bore a soft smile, a haphazardly arranged mop of black hair, and glasses that were ready to parachute off of his nose at any moment. Natasha had a hard time reconciling Dr. Banner with the monstrosity that had destroyed Harlem, but as she flicked down to the video she felt flutters of fear again.

People had a misconception that she never felt anything akin to fear as a spy or an assassin. It was a silly notion. Fear kept her alive. On a chemical level, the adrenaline rush is her biggest combat advantage against someone foolish enough not to be afraid. Fear was often wisdom in her line of work, and caution went a long way. But acting on that fear was what made her strong. The Hulk was different, in a sense. No amount of adrenaline would keep her alive against something like that.

"Agent, we have landed. What do we do?" said one of the soldiers.

She dismantled her fears briskly, for now. They wouldn't be useful yet.

"We're about a mile south of our base. I'm going to need to head out now in order to lure him there. Keep the carrier on stealth, and I want someone on the pilot's seat at all times until the mission is over. We could have a take-off at any moment in case containment fails."

Base was perhaps more comfortable of a word than their little shack probably deserved to have applied to it. But it was on the edge of the city, it was cheap, and it would do. More importantly, every inch was covered in cameras, microphones, and more than enough weapons for her to pull from. What she would lack in concealment with her outfit would be made up for on-location.

She looked the group over for a moment and continued. "I want a perimeter on the building after he steps in. Until then, keep to the trees and keep hidden. Don't close in until I say and do not shoot until I give an express order. We don't want to make mountains out of molehills boys."

A loose chuckle.

She looked out a window. The sun was beginning to dwindle, slowly. "Start making the trek to your positions at sundown. Look alive gentlemen."

Natasha stepped out of the carrier and made her way to the city. She'd need to get eyes on the target first and foremost. She was already dressed for the occasion, wearing a two piece outfit with a shawl over her shoulders. Natasha opted for earthy and neutral colors. If the Hulk were to come out to play, she wanted to blend in as much as possible with the colors of the shack. Regardless, it was form-fitting and seduction would be possible if need be – not that she expected such a need at all. Maybe it was intuition, but she highly doubted Banner would be persuaded by something like that.

She stepped into the crowd from the off-road she had taken, passing the shack, and began to make her way to the city proper. It was crowded and saturated by the scents of a variety of local foods, and the sounds of bikes ringing and people chattering.

She took a moment and turned a corner into a fabrics shop, where they had bolts of all types of silk and wool and cotton on display in a variety of colors and designs. She pulled out her phone and checked where their scouting agents had last seen Banner. Three blocks away in a green house, the text said. She almost grinned at the coincidence, but the mention of the color brought up her apprehension about the mission.

Sun was setting at last, and she received a message from the one she had put in charge on the carrier. The men were en route to their positions. Natasha pursed her lips and looked up through the fabrics. She stepped away from the shop and spotted a little girl. Beckoning her in the local tongue, Natasha crouched down to her eye level and spoke in the voice she had always used with Cooper and Lila Barton. She pulled out some money and gave her a little quest.

The earnest excitement in the girl's eyes gave Natasha all the assurance she needed that the girl would come through. Telling her where to find the shack, Natasha thanked her, and sent her off to the green house with Dr. Banner. She began her walk to the base.

She was in position when she heard the little girl's rushed steps through the shack and a brief little grunt as she popped out through a window.

Dr. Banner sighed and chuckled at once. "Should have got paid up-front Banner" he said to himself.

He was wearing a tweed jacket, slacks, and a flesh-pink dress shirt. Same color as her shawl. His hair was a mop of black, like in the picture, except longer, and lightly sprinkled with gray hairs. His shoulders were tense, likely because he was already aware he was in a trap, but he didn't seem overly concerned.

It was a strange sort of confidence. Like he was afraid of the world and afraid for it all at once.

She stepped out of her spot and put on her own brand of confidence, despite the fear creeping up through her spine. It was different seeing him in person. He could snap at any moment and she would die a very short and brutal death. With that thought she spoke up.

"You know, for a man who's supposed to be avoiding stress you picked a..." she let her eyes roam the shack, as if it was her first time there,"hell of a place to settle."

He turned around quickly enough. He was surprised she was a woman, and yet not. He put down his bag, tense, and took a step back. She wondered, briefly, if he was going to simply run away. He didn't.

"Avoiding stress isn't the secret." Dr. Banner said, putting a little bit of distance between them. That wouldn't do. She needed to guide him closer to the table, where she at least had a weapon. Being seated would calm him.

She toyed with putting on a facade in her personality, but ultimately went with the truth. He was wary enough as it stood. The only person she was lying to now was herself, but being afraid was something she had learned to deal with long ago.

"So what is it? Yoga?" Her eyebrow quirked as she gazed at him steadily, openly. It was the first thought to cross her mind, but it also served the purpose of establishing repertoire, hopefully.

He didn't take it, though he was somewhat amused. Clearly his nerves outweighed his humor at the moment- he looked skittish. He wrung his hands together tightly, contemplating the shack as he nodded to himself. It was almost like he was comforting himself with his hands. He finished assessing his surroundings and began to move towards the window, further from her part of the room than before.

"You brought me to the edge of the city, smart." He commented as he inspected the darkness outside. "I, uh, I assume you have the place surrounded?"

Ten points to Dr. Banner. "Just you and me" she said. She moved to put her shawl on the chair near the table and stepped towards him, shoulders now bare. If it didn't work to appeal to his sensual side, then it created the illusion that she was at ease in his presence. He watched her, but asked a question before she could speak again.

"And your actress buddy?" He pointed to the room where the girl had made her little escape. "Is she a spy too? They start that young?"

His hands were clasped together once more as he yet again created a little bit of distance. It was getting to be a little frustrating but she answered evenly with a ghost of a shrug. Perhaps the truth would serve in her favor again. It was somewhat refreshing – the truth was a tool she didn't often have the occasion to use.

"I did."

"And who are you?"

"Natasha Romanoff."

He looked at her and stopped moving. He stood firmly in place, spine slightly straighter. Moment of truth. He made some more motions with his hands – why did he keep doing that? It was distracting. He looked down at the floor briefly before looking back up and speaking at last.

"Are you here to kill me Ms. Romanoff? Because," he shook his head, "that's not gonna work out...for everyone." A little smile, ironic and grim. Vaguely threatening.

She didn't deliberate too long on answering, but her heart was beating just a step too quick. "No, no, of course not." She stepped closer. It was like approaching a cornered animal. "I'm here on behalf of SHIELD."

He looked away from her and contemplated that. She wasn't sure if he was already familiar with the agency, but he didn't particularly seem to care. She imagined he wouldn't. A guy like him has probably heard from a lot of organizations with fancy acronyms.

"SHIELD," he sounded out, testing it. He looked to her briefly. She tilted her head, an invitation for him to ask what he wished to ask.

"How'd they find me?"

"We never lost you, doctor. We've… kept our distance." She smiled slightly, not that he'd see it. He was looking firmly at the ground. "Even helped keep other interested parties off your scent."

"Why?"

"Nick Fury seems to trust you." She kept her eyes open and as warm as she could. Non-threatening. "But now we need you to come in."

He didn't blink as he raised his head to answer her. "What if I said no?"

Now things were getting a little tense. She couldn't get a read on him, which threw her off balance more than she already was. Natasha couldn't figure out whether he was giving her a hypothesis, or presenting a firm answer.

She opted for more confidence. "I'll persuade you." She let her words hang in the air.

He didn't take the bait. His tongue swept briefly out of his mouth to wet his lips and he spoke quietly. "And what if the Other Guy says no?"

Her heart was a step and a half ahead of its normal pace. He scrutinized her now. It was a test, or maybe he just wanted to see how she would react to that.

She didn't drop her slight smile, and she began moving as she spoke, guiding him closer to her table. "You've been more than a year without an incident I don't think you want to break that streak." Confidence was the key.

She glanced back at him as she moved, briefly, and watched him push a wooden cradle back and forth as he responded.

"Well I don't every time get what I want." It was delivered in a soft voice, resigned, and she felt sympathy for the Doc. Couldn't he have children? That would have been on the file, right? Or maybe him and Elizabeth Ross had plans for a child before the accident?

She gave him a private moment as she pulled up a file on her phone. She also took the moment to give a status update to her soldiers. All was well for now.

Regardless, if the need arose, the moment she pulled any weapon from its spot in the room, they would know to deploy.

She glanced up at him from her spot. He hadn't moved from his position by the cradle, but his shoulders were somewhat less tense. He trusted her – to an extent.

"Doctor." She made sure her voice was all business now. He already knew she was an agent, so there was no need to pretend too much. Especially now that he was comfortable. "We're facing a potential global catastrophe."

He chuckled. "Oh those I actively try to avoid."

She appreciated the humor, but he had to know she was serious. She moved to the table.

"This," she showed him the phone from where he stood, but he'd have to come closer to see what it was, "is the tesseract." She took a seat and slid the phone across the table, inviting him to take a seat as well.

He got closer and pulled out a pair of reading glasses from his coat pocket. He approached the table and took the phone for a closer look, but he didn't sit down. That was unsettling. She had no idea how to get him to trust her.

"It has the potential energy to wipe out the planet." She informed him.

It was strange looking at him from where he stood. The science was clearly attractive to him, his eyes seemed curious from what she could tell as the blue of the screen illuminated his face.

He looked up, but when he didn't find her, lowered his gaze to where she was seated. It was a bemusing moment, and betrayed the fact that he was caught up in thought already.

"What does Fury want me to do? Swallow it?"

She was impressed that he remembered the name of her superior. She had only mentioned it in passing, but he took in the small detail. His joke wasn't horrible either, but it dripped with self-depreciation and sarcasm in a heady mix that she would have found amusing if she wasn't so damn afraid.

She leaned forward to take back her phone. "He wants you to study it at one of our labs. We've had people analyze it, the best of the best but..." She put as much earnestness as she could in her voice.

"There's no one that knows gamma radiation like you do. If there was..." she leaned back in her chair, seemingly relaxed and open, but she felt the mounting tension and her hand was carefully poised on her lap. Just under the table. Close to her gun. "That's where I'd be."

His face was amused. She had a bad feeling. "So Fury isn't after the monster?"

Fury very well might have been."Not that he's told me."

"And he tells you everything?" Ten more points to Dr. Banner. She wasn't overly fond of where this was heading.

"Talk to Fury, he needs you on this."

"Needs me in a cage?" Uh oh.

She made a mistake and tried for a little lie. She made to reach out to him across the table in a gesture of openness with one hand. The other edged closer to her weapon. "No one's going to put you in a cage -"

"Stop lying to me!" He slammed his hands on the table and her heart dropped faster than she ever could have imagined. When it picked up pace again less than a second later, it was sprinting in her chest. The gun was out and in her hand, cocked and ready to fire, her body in a defensive stance, and all of it happened before she even came close to registering exactly who she was pointing it at.

In a moment her entire perspective shifted, the entire conversation. She never had even a semblance of control here.

She pointed the weapon steadily, catching her breath. Any control she did have would have gone out the window when he turned green anyways. She suddenly rued the pistol in her hand. It would have been useless. But- maybe not. Banner wasn't green. As a matter of fact he didn't look even half as distressed as she felt.

He pulled back from the table with a little smirk. Her heart pounded so hard it almost hurt. "I'm sorry," he said, "that was mean."

He raised his hands in a conciliatory fashion. "I just wanted to see what you'd do."

She started at him disbelievingly over the barrel of her gun. Tears had gathered in her eyes, despite herself. She thought of all the people she would miss if she had died. The Bartons, first and foremost. Fury, Coulson, Hill. All of that could have been taken from her in a moment and she would have had no control over it. That was what scared her the most.

Banner continued softly. "Why don't we do this the easy way where you don't use -" he pointed to her weapon "that – and the other guy doesn't make a mess?"

"Okay? Natasha?" He had used her first name. His voice was comforting. It was a confirmation of sorts that he had seen right through the veil of confidence she had projected, not just to him but to herself.

She lowered her gun slowly and raised her hand to her earpiece.

"Stand down, we're good here" She instructed shakily..

She heard the weapons click as they began to step back. She, too, stepped away from Banner and re-considered her opinions. She knew he wasn't a fool, but he was quicker than she thought. He had outmaneuvered her entirely, and forced her on the defensive. That was rare.

The idea contrasted sharply with the sight of him now, wringing his hands together, staring at her wryly. "Just you and me, huh?"

A shaky breath from her end. She put the gun on the table and blinked away any lingering doubt. "Thirty points to Dr. Banner" she tried to joke.

He played along now. "You've been counting too? I counted forty, but my math may be wrong."

She chuckled, breathing still a little unstable, but better. "So, I take it you're coming along? I think you owe me after that scare."

He looked guilty. "I suppose I do. Sorry, again. It really was rude of me but I-" his hands wandered around. "I have trouble trusting."

She nodded and began to move to collect her shawl, but was forced quickly to freeze in place when she heard gunfire. Lots of it. Bruce heard it too. He looked up at her wildly. The question was obvious.

"Those weren't my men." She answered quickly. She tried to reach her lieutenant. The line was dead. Somebody cut off comms. More gunfire. She quickly came to a conclusion, and it wouldn't be good for anyone.

"Dr. Banner I need you to please stay calm and get close to the ground."

A bullet shot through one of the walls of the wooden shack, and the discharges got louder. She heard yelling loud and clear now, as well as grenades.

"Remember what I said about other interested parties?" She asked, crouching near him, pistol in hand.

He nodded, eyes wild.

She put her hand on his shoulder and looked deep into his eyes. She didn't have any facades now. "I think they've crashed ours. I need you to stay calm, okay? I swear I'm going to get you out of this and into safety."

Her heart was calmer now, in the face of gunfire. Guns she could deal with. Guns were familiar. She could control the situation.

Various more shots burst through the wooden shack, hitting the wall opposite them. The bullets were big. They passed right through those walls as well.

Natasha began to form a plan. Pistol raised, she chanced to rise from beneath the table. She began firing.

A/N: I hope you liked it! I have the rest of the story planned out; it's not going to be long, maybe around seven chapters, but I likely won't be able to get to typing up the next chapter because I have finals coming up soon. And Endgame, of course.

It was my first time writing anything set in the modern world, and definitely my first time writing Natasha, Fury, and Banner.

Please feel free to review!

[leevila-today]

Gentle Touches (Bruno Buccellati x Reader)

So I finally decided to start posting some of my writings to my Tumblr, after them being on my Ao3 and Wattpad accounts for a while now. I just want to spread the love and give Bruno the support he deserves. Also, wow it took absolutely ages trying to copy this thing and put a read more on it. The Tumblr posting system is god-awful and more time-consuming than the Ao3 one!

Here we are!

The party was a quiet affair. Quiet, but charged with tension. You were mingling with the other guests, with a soft smile and fluttering eyes. Sipping from a champagne glass, dress shimmering and sparkling under the crystal chandeliers. Your gaze swept the crowd of people conversing, spotting your partner for the mission across the way.

Bruno Buccellati, looking absolutely resplendent in his outfit. A white suit that made his dark hair stand out all the more, trimmed with black lace and gold buttons. His hair was pulled up in his signature braid, but this time there were glittering clips pushing it back behind his ears. Golden teardrop piercings dangled wildly from them with every turn of his head. He didn't wear much makeup for this particular mission, but the little he did have on made him look almost as angelic as Giorno Giovanna himself. You were almost swept away by his soft-spoken manner and elegant body language. But no matter how beautiful he was, you weren't here to just ogle Bruno. What you were really here for; what you both were here for in fact was:

The mission.

You continued glancing around, spotting the target a couple of groups away. Francesco Accardi, a traitor to Passione. You and your fellow Capo were both sent in order to take him out, with you being the one to do the deed and Buccellati to cover your back. It was a relatively easy job, but still on the dangerous side since Francesco knew both of your faces. He'd been staying a good distance away the whole gathering. Someone must have tipped him off that he was now being hunted; it was the only solution to his sudden cautiousness.

You caught Bruno's eyes from the other side of the room, reaching up with your hand and tracing the shell of your ear with a single finger. He copied your gesture and sidestepped behind someone; and then he was gone. You turned your gaze back to Accardi and saw that he was watching you like a hawk. You just tilted your head and smiled at him, making your way though the chatting masses and sidling up to him.

"Francesco, I wasn't expecting to see you here. How are you enjoying the party?" A vein pulsed in his neck as he clenched his jaw. You took a languid sip from your glass, dropping it down on a tray carried by a serving man and grabbing a fresh one.

"It is splendid. Almost as fascinating as you," he clearly was struggling with forcing the words out. How this man lasted so long in the gang with such lousy personal skills is beyond me. You thought to to yourself as his eyes quickly flicked around, putting names to faces. "I saw Buccellati earlier, where is he now? No doubt charming some girl." You scoffed at his words.

"We both know Buccellati would never jeopardize a job for carnal pleasures," you purred, slowly reaching out and dragging your fingertips up Accardi's sleeve. "He just isn't that kind of man. He always puts the mission first, something I'm sure you know much about?" The last question rang sour, your expression darkening with every word. "Isn't that right?" By now, most of the people had migrated to the ballroom, leaving the banquet room you were currently located in. There were only a few stragglers, but they were soon on their way to leave as well. Accardi's throat bobbed as he swallowed.

"Ah... No need to be so- hostile, bella." He began looking around more frequently, clearly very nervous at the lack of Bruno's presence. "Surely there isn't something wrong?" You focused intensely on a portion of the wall behind him, curling your lip in distain.

"Actually, there is one small problem..."

~Ziipp~

"You." Is all that Bruno said before grabbing Accardi by the arms and dragging him into the hole he had opened in the wall. You followed after him, allowing Bruno's zipper to seal up. There was no trace of you back at the party; the only noticeable thing was a single champagne glass, shattered on the ground.

~*~

It was past midnight when you got back to your room, tired and exasperated with Accardi's lack of cooperation. You stretched your arms above your head as you entered the suite provided for your current mission. Bruno followed you, locking the door behind him and straightening out his jacket. He moved to the parlor, where his nightclothes were laid out neatly to change into as you went into the bedroom to get out of the dress. Pity Accardi didn't give anything. Well, we were only meant to get rid of him. You looked at yourself in the mirror, appreciating how it looked draping across your shoulders before you realized:

There was no way you'd be able to unzip it by yourself.

When you first put it on you had to ask Bruno for help zipping it up, and he was gracious enough to do it without question. So you sighed and looked at the door that led to the parlor, where he was at the moment. As you opened said door slowly as to not disturb him as much, you were face-to-face with a half undressed Bruno. Your hand tensed on the handle and your eyes widened a fraction of an amount in slight embarrassment. He likewise looked up from laying his suit jacket down and locked eyes with you.

"Ah, did you need help with the zipper again?" He asked, setting it down and turning completely to face you. At your nod a small smirk curved his lips, "Well I could always use Sticky Fingers, but I'm sure you don't want holes all over that beautiful dress." That little quip put a smile on your face and a giggle in your throat as you opened the door fully and walked over to him. You turned around and let him undo the zip that ran from the nape of your neck down to the small of your back. You could feel his dexterous fingers sliding down your spine, sending little shivers throughout your body. Bruno was a handsome man, a beautiful one in fact! You couldn't help but harbor an attraction to him, which worsened with the view you had just a few seconds ago.

"Grazie, zuccherino mio." You teased, hoping that you didn't sound too forward with the pet name. Just hoping you didn't give away your feelings. But he didn't miss a beat.

"No problem, cara mia," was whispered into your ear as he leaned over you slightly. Your breath quickened at the term of endearment, imagining for a second that he meant it in another way. An intimate way.

But alas, all good things must come to an end, and Bruno clearly meant it as a way to poke fun as usual. You stepped away from him, holding up your dress so it wouldn't fall (then you'd both end up seeing more than what was meant for the other). You left the room, not looking back in fear of embarrassing yourself even more. For he meant the nickname in an endearing and friendly way; there was no way he felt the same for you. So you undressed and changed into a loose shirt and shorts, forgoing a bra for tonight.

As you changed, your thoughts wandered to the other room, and who was currently in it. Bruno Buccellati. The man you could never have. There was no room for romance in your lines of work, as the gang was a risky business. Full of death and deceit; the life of a gangster was a short one, and it was only a matter of time before one or both of you fell to it. So there was no point to attachments. Your eyes stung with tears at that thought. You wanted him so bad that your chest constricted, like there was a metal band around your heart.

At that moment there were soft knocks at the door. "Bella mia? Are you decent?"

"Uhm, yes! It's alright," you sniffed and wiped at your eyes as the door opened, turning away just in time to hide evidence of your sadness. You glanced over to look at Bruno; he was wearing an oversized long-sleeved white shirt that made you want to reach out and feel how soft it was. His makeup was wiped off and his hair had been let loose to flow down in gentle black waves. A pair of long dark grey pants completed his absolutely domestic look. This is what you longed to see every night before you went to sleep, the one man who you loved with all your being.

But he didn't feel the same.

"Are you alright?" He asked, stopping your heart with his concern. "You were acting a bit strangely ever since we got to the party," he explained, stepping a little closer behind you. "I just want to make sure you're okay."

That was it. That was what broke you. A small whimper escaped your mouth and you crumpled to the ground, Bruno catching you before you could fall. He led you over to his bed and sat you down next to him. "Shhh... Hey, it's alright. What's wrong?" He patted your back and let you rest your head on his shoulder. You dug your fingers into his shirt as sobs wracked your body. It hurt. It hurt so much you could barely breathe. It felt like your heart was being wrenched out of your chest, by the very man comforting you. "Just breathe. You don't have to answer now, bella mia." The pet name didn't soothe you as he thought it would. In fact, it just made things worse. You wanted him to say these things in a romantic way, not platonic like he meant.

So you stayed like that, your face buried in his shoulder. Clinging onto him as if for dear life. And he just let you. This was the closest you two had been in a very long time, the last time was when you got wounded in a previous mission and he had to carry you out of the danger zone. If you weren't delirious from pain at the time, you'd have taken advantage of the fact that he seemed so concerned with your health. And now, you were too distracted by your feelings to even enjoy him having you in his arms like this.

Then you felt a pair of lips plant a kiss on the top of your head. Your breath caught in your throat and you froze. His warm hand rubbed your shoulder, and another kiss was placed on your head. "It breaks my heart to see you like this, cara mia." His soft voice whispered to you, calm and reverberating through his chest. You could feel the vibrations along with his gentle heartbeat. And at that moment, you wished to be nowhere else but his arms.

"I..." The lump in your throat made it hard to say anything. But it was time. Time to tell him how you felt. No matter how much he hated you after what you were about to say, you had to tell him. "Bruno, I-"

"You don't have to say anything. Just stay here a little longer until you feel better," he said, now placing a hand on your head to keep you close. Very close. Your thighs were flush together, and you could feel the heat of his body pressed against you through his clothes. You took a deep breath in through your nose and smelt fresh basil. Soothing circles were being rubbed into your back, calming you despite everything. Your shaky sobs evened out, as did your tears. "Feeling better now? It must have been rough for the past couple of days for you. I just wanted to let you know that I care about you, and seeing you hurting like this horrifies me," Bruno murmured as he continued with his comforting ministrations. "Seeing your smile makes every day worth it, you know? Whenever you so much as glance in my direction with a grin on those beautiful lips, it feels as if I'm climbing a mountain and I get a burst of energy. My oxygen is every moment I spend with you." He paused before a small laugh erupted from his throat. "Ah, now that sounds a little ridiculous once I say it out loud, doesn't it?"

"Bruno, you don't-" you started to say, and he silenced himself. You pulled away from his shoulder and looked up into his eyes. His gorgeous blue eyes that shined with such affection and love. "You don't have to say these things to make me feel better. I already know you care, it's just..." You trailed off, bottom lip quivering. "Not in the way I want."

Bruno immediately stiffened up. His facial expression changed from a soft smile to almost indiscernible shock.

"Oh. I-" he shifted awkwardly next to you, trying to put some distance between you two. "I apologise. I thought... Well I thought you felt-" he looked away. "Never mind, it's for the best anyways. I misread your intentions and invited unwanted physical contact." That confused you. Why was he apologizing for this, when it was you who should be apologizing to him!

"No, you don't understand! You don't need to be sorry for not reciprocating!" You looked away and down at your lap, the tears already coming back. "A relationship between us is a bad idea, I know. And that's why it's good that you don't feel the same," your voice wavered on that last line. It's good that you don't love me.

"Wait!" Bruno held up his hands in front of you. "I think you're misunderstanding. I... I do want to be with you. In every way possible." He took a deep breath as your mouth gaped. "I have wanted to tell you for so long, but was afraid. Afraid of what could happen to me. Afraid of what could happen to you. Our lives aren't exactly safe." You listened as he explained the exact reasons you were afraid of pursuing a relationship with him.

"So you... You want me?" You asked, already certain of his answer by the way a gentle smile graced his mouth. He put his arm back around your shoulder and pulled you close, whispering into your ear:

"Of course, tesoro." Your heart caught in your throat at the endearment. "I'd love to see what we can make of this." You wrapped your arms around his neck, staring deep into his beautiful eyes. They were bright with happiness. Happiness towards you. There was only one phrase that you could think of that even came close to describing how he looked. So you brought yourself nose to nose with him and whispered:

"Luce dei miei occhi." Light of my eyes. Bruno grinned and kissed your forehead, pulling you up into his lap and falling down onto the bed below. You landed on top of him, resting your cheek on his chest and sighing in comfort. It felt as if you were floating, a weight had been lifted off of your lungs.

It was perfect.