#if college of whispers was in this game though taryn WOULD have been college of whispers. she is a lore bard instead | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

miracleonice87 · 4 years ago

Note

25&28 w tkachuk (if not taken)

25. spending time with family / 28. “Where’s all of your holiday spirit, you Scrooge?”

quick note: happy birthday, Matthew 💕 decided to use an OC for this one as it fit a little bit better. enjoy!

quick warning: just alcohol I believe. suuuper fluff.

song pairing, just for fun: It’s Not Christmas ‘Til You Come Home by Norah Jones (for a sad, mopey, brooding Matty)

_____

“Where’s all of your holiday spirit, you Scrooge?” Keith bellowed, nudging Matthew’s arm with the same hand that held his vodka tonic. The matching drink he poured for Matthew still sat in front of his son on the kitchen island, untouched. That’s how Keith knew his son was really struggling.

“I prefer Grinch,” Matthew grumbled, resting his chin on his fist. “And my holiday spirit left with Leighton.”

Taryn clicked her tongue in pity from the barstool next to him and stood to wrap her arms around her brother’s shoulders. “I know you miss her,” she said as she squeezed him tight. “We miss her, too.”

Matthew attempted a smile and patted his sister’s forearm appreciatively. Brady, on the other hand, took less sensitive approach.

“Yeah, plus you’re way more fun when she’s here,” Brady pointed out, pouring himself another drink.

Matthew rolled his eyes. “Thank you,” he murmured sarcastically, followed by a lengthy sigh. “I just don’t know why she had to be the one to travel so far for this game. I wish somebody else could have.”

“Because it’s a big bowl game, Matthew,” Keith stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “And we all know she’s the best at what she does. It’s Christmas Day. There’s gonna be a lot of eyeballs watching this afternoon. You should be proud. And understanding. She works in sports and you’re a pro athlete. Of anybody, you should get it.”

Matthew dropped his head back in dramatic fashion. As much as he hated to admit it, his dad was right. He absolutely loved that his girlfriend worked as a sideline reporter for college football — they understood each others’ insane work schedules and had a special bond over their passion for sports of all kinds. He loved listening to Leighton’s reporting because she was a hell of a lot smarter than he was, and also a lot smarter than most other reporters… plus, the fact that she was an complete smokeshow, and all his, was the cherry on top.

But her job stealing her away from him at Christmas just wasn’t fair.

“Speaking of which, her game is starting soon,” Taryn said, glancing at the oven clock. She clapped Matthew’s back and ordered, “Come on, let’s go.” Taryn led the way into the living room as each family member found a seat in front of the TV.

As if Matthew could have ever forgotten, Leighton was working a bowl game in Phoenix. He had initially tried to force his way into joining her on her trip, but she refused to allow him to spend Christmas Day alone in a hotel room or waiting for her somewhere squeezed into the sold out stadium. She insisted on Matthew’s going home to spend the holidays with his family, who barely got to see him at all during the NHL season. Though they’d promised to have their own Christmas when they both returned to Calgary late on Boxing Day, they were both brokenhearted at the prospect of spending their first major holiday apart.

“It just won’t be Christmas without you, Leight,” Matthew sighed as he leaned his forehead against hers during their final goodbye at the airport.

She took a deep breath and tried to hold herself together at his statement, her fingers smoothing the short hair at the nape of his neck. When she looked back into his face, her eyes shone with tears.

“I’m sorry,” Leighton whispered, not trusting her voice to carry her words. Matthew shook his head.

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the space between her brows. “I’m just gonna miss you is all.” Leighton squeezed his neck tighter, and after one last searing kiss, she pulled back with a sniffle.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” she told him. “Like always.” She reached for the handle of her rolling suitcase beside her and said, “I really have to go.” Matthew nodded.

“Okay. Be safe,” he said quietly, pulling her into his chest once more. “I love you, Leight. Merry Christmas.”

He felt her choke on a sob before she whispered, “Merry Christmas, Matty. I love you so much.”

And with that, she threw him a tight smile with red, watery eyes and forced her feet to carry her inside to the check-in counter, before she gave in and jumped back into Matthew’s car and returned home with him, like every muscle in her body was screaming at her to do.

Though he smiled when Leighton first appeared onscreen, looking even more beautiful than usual, Matthew then immediately replayed the memory of their crushing goodbye a few days prior, and his face fell once more. His mom, seated next to him, took notice, and wrapped her hand around his, smoothing the other over his cheek with a sad smile. He squeezed her fingers and gave a halfhearted smile of his own.

Michigan edged out a win over Florida after an ultra-competitive game, which Matthew couldn’t even enjoy because his heart ached each time Leighton was shown on the sideline. He sighed after each report she gave, and by the end of the game, when it was time for dinner, he had given into the drinks Keith was offering and was now well into the process of drowning his sorrows.

He did his best to contribute to the conversation at the dinner table, but after the plates were cleared and they returned to the living room to play board games and watch Christmas movies, Matthew fell quiet once more. No one called him out for it — they felt the weight of Leighton’s absence, too. She had become an integral part of the Tkachuk family dynamic, and not having her there just felt wrong.

By the time it was nearing midnight, Matthew was lying motionless on the couch, watching Home Alone but not laughing at any of the parts that made him chuckle each time it was on. He was just about to force himself upright to pour one last cocktail for the night when there was a knock at the door.

Everyone fell silent.

Brady and Taryn looked at each other at the same time, and Taryn whispered, “No way…”

Matthew looked to his parents, cuddled together on the couch across the room. Chantal appeared just as surprised as her children did, but Keith’s eyes had a distinct glimmer in them. He gave half a shrug and said from behind his glass, “Well, why don’t you go answer it?”

It couldn’t be. No. It wasn’t. Was it? There was no way. Taryn was right. No way.

Halfway through a second knock, Matthew swung open the door to find a certain sports reporter on his doorstep, still dressed in the same ensemble she had worn on the sideline, covered with a pea coat and a Flames beanie.

A breathy chuckle escaped through her smiling lips and rose through the air as a puff of white steam.

“Hi, Matty,” Leighton said simply.

For a moment, Matthew was completely and utterly frozen in place, convinced his mind was playing tricks on him. When he blinked and realized that his girlfriend was still standing before him, that she was truly here in St. Louis, he lunged toward her and buried his face in her neck — she would have fallen over for certain if not for how tightly his arms wrapped around her waist.

Leighton felt tears on her barely-exposed skin as she wrapped her own arms around Matthew as best she could. She turned her head to press a kiss to his cheekbone and said softly, “Did you really think I was going to be able to survive spending a whole Christmas without you?”

He laughed in disbelief and admitted, “I almost didn’t. Just ask them.” He nodded toward his family, who were now all huddled in the entryway together. She giggled and smiled brightly at them, the family who had long treated her as one of their own — including the probable future father-in-law who had schemed to get her to them as soon as humanly possible after her game had concluded.

Before she could step inside to greet them, though, Matthew firmly grabbed her face in both his hands and gave her a long, tender kiss — the kind that told her just how much she had been missed.

“I can’t believe you’re here. God, I love you, Leighton,” he whispered, nuzzling her cold nose with his warm one. “You’re all I wanted for Christmas this year.”

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timothyjimothy74 · 4 years ago

Text

Great - Quinn Hughes ft. Brady Tkachuk and Matthew Tkachuk

A/N: I recently fell in love with Quinn Hughes and had to write for him, but I couldn’t leave my favorite boys out.

Summary: Y/N has been best friends with the Tkachuks for as long as she can remember. When Quinn Hughes surprises Brady in St. Louis, old feelings come tp the surface.

Word count: ~2.2k

It was going to be a typical offseason Saturday night spent watching movies and hanging out with her best friends Brady, Matthew, Taryn and Brady’s girlfriend Emma. At least that’s what Y/N thought.

They’d all been back in St. Louis for a few weeks now and Y/N had spent as many days as she could at the Tkachuk house. She was glad to be back for the summer and even happier to finally have another girl around. With her, Taryn and Emma, they finally outnumbered the boys, at least while her brother was away taking summer classes.

Y/N grew up with the Tkachuks. Her twin brother Alex used to play hockey with Brady and she and Taryn would always play games together in the stands during their games. Brady would come out to the stands after his game to watch his older brother Matthew play. But he always wound up playing with Y/N and Taryn more than watching Matthew. Alex would come out and play with them too.

It didn’t take long for Brady and Taryn to beg their parents to hang out with Y/N and Alex outside of the rink. Soon enough, the families were inseparable. Even though Matthew was older than all of the other kids, even he had fun hanging out and making fun of them constantly.

Even when the boys’ hockey careers took off and Y/N and Alex went away to college, they all remained close. They’d been best friends since those early mornings in the rink and they always would be even though Y/N really wanted to kill Brady and Matthew right now.

She showed up to the Tkachuk house and saw a bunch of cars parked outside it and music blasting. Y/N would usually never turn down a party, but this time, she wasn’t dressed for one because they hadn’t told her they were having one.

She sent a quick, “SOS” text to Taryn and hoped she was here and that she could help with her current leggings and hoodie situation.

Sure enough, Taryn was at her car in a few minutes.

“Hey, Y/N! What’s the matter?” Taryn asked.

“I thought we were having a movie night tonight?” Y/N asked.

Taryn laughed. “The boys are such idiots. They didn’t tell you they were throwing a party for Quinn?”

“Quinn Hughes? Brady’s old teammate?” Y/N asked.

“Yeah. He surprised them by coming into town today so the boys threw him a party. I think they just used any excuse they could find to throw a party, but I’m not going to complain. Did they seriously not tell you?” Taryn was confused Y/N didn’t already know all this.

“No, I guess they didn’t want me to come. Maybe I should just head home,” Y/N said, looking down at her feet.

“Hey, Y/N/N, that’s not true. They’re just idiots. Here’s idiot Number 2. Ask him yourself,” she said as Brady ran up to her car.

“Y/N! What are you doing? Come inside and party with us!” Brady shouted with a drink in his hand.

“I’m not dressed for a party because you failed to tell me about it,” Y/N said as she scrunched up her face at him.

“What are you talking about? Matthew said he would text you and tell you about the change of plans!” Brady yelled again.

“Trusting Matthew to remember to do anything was your first mistake, you idiot,” Taryn said as she slapped the back of his head.

“I’m sorry, Y/N/N. Please come inside and hang out with us. I want you to meet Quinn!” Brady shouted again.

“Okay, first of all, please stop shouting. You’re murdering my eardrum. Second, I met Quinn at your draft. Third, what part of I am dressed like a hobo do you not understand?!” Y/N said as she purposely hit her head on the steering wheel.

“You talked to him for like two seconds. I need my best friends to be best friends! I think you look fine, but have Taryn get you something to wear if it’s such a big deal!” Brady shouted again.

Y/N looked at Taryn helplessly. “Wow, the dumbass actually had a good idea for once,” she laughed as Brady sighed dramatically. “Come on, I’ll sneak you to my room and we can get you something to wear.”

“See you guys soon! I’ll tell Quinny you’re here, Y/N!” Brady yelled again.

“Great,” Y/N mumbled under her breath.

Taryn chuckled but didn’t say anything as they snuck around to the deserted side of the house, went up the stairs and found Taryn’s room. Y/N dramatically flopped onto Taryn’s bed face first.

Taryn laughed. “What’s the deal with you and Hughes? Don’t think I didn’t hear that comment you made earlier.”

Y/N flipped to her side so she was facing Taryn. “I used to have a crush on him…” Y/N whispered.

“What?? When? I thought you guys only met at the draft.” Taryn squealed excitedly, flopping on the bed next to her.

“We did, but when he and Brady lived together, Brady would facetime me after their games and tell me how they went but he would always fall asleep. When he fell asleep, Quinn would take the phone and we would talk,” Y/N exclaimed.

Taryn’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her head. “What would you talk about?”

“Lots of stuff. Hockey mostly. But I would tell him embarrassing stories about Brady as a kid. We talked about our dreams for the future and random stuff,” Y/N said. “I could never go visit then because I was so busy with school and work so we didn’t meet until the draft. It’s so weird. We never exchanged numbers or anything, we only talked over Facetime on Brady’s phone, but I liked him so much. And I couldn’t even find the courage to tell Brady because I thought he would be mad.”

“We have to find you a bomb outfit to impress him then,” Taryn smiled knowingly at Y/N as she got up and looked through her closet.

“We haven’t talked in years. And he was so busy at the draft that I only got a few seconds with him. He probably doesn’t even remember me,” Y/N sighed.

Taryn reached over and grabbed a pillow and hit Y/N in the head with it. “Don’t be as big of an idiot as my brothers. He definitely remembers you and you’re going to impress him in this,” Taryn said as she pulled out a blue body suit, black mini skirt and air force one’s from her closet. “Now hurry up and change so I can see how it looks.”

Y/N did as she was told. Luckily for her, she was short for her age so Taryn’s clothes still fit her. Once she was dressed, she silently thanked herself for putting on makeup today, took her hair down from its bun and stared at herself. Her hair was perfectly wavy and she looked good.

Taryn whistled. “Alright, now let’s go downstairs, lover girl.”

As Taryn led the way downstairs, Y/N found herself growing more and more nervous. She’d kept up with Quinn’s hockey career through the years so she knew he had matured since the last time she’d seen him, but what if he looked different than how she remembered him? Yeah, she was going to need a drink if she was going to see Quinn.

As soon as they arrived downstairs, Y/N made a beeline for the kitchen without even looking at anyone.

“Well well well, look who’s finally here.” Matthew chuckled. “Drink?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Yes please. It’s your fault I’m late. You didn’t tell me you guys were having a party.”

Matthew stopped pouring her drink and looked at her. “Brady said he was going to tell you.”

“Well, he didn’t and he just told me you said you were going to tell me,” Y/N sighed. “I’ll take that drink anytime.”

Matthew handed Y/N a drink. “I swear he said he was going to tell you. I should’ve double checked, though. I’m sorry. Forgive me?” he asked as he pouted at her.

“I guess. Thanks for the drink,” Y/N smiled as she turned to go find Taryn and Emma.

Emma spotted her from across the room, waived her over and hugged her. “Hey, Y/N! Taryn told me what happened. Sorry about the boys.”

Y/N looked back and forth between Emma and Taryn. “Do you guys know something you’re not telling me? Because Brady told me Matthew was going to tell me about the party, but Matthew just told me Brady said he was going to tell me. They’re acting weird.”

Before either girl could respond, Y/N heard a familiar voice behind her. “Who’s acting weird?”

Y/N turned around to see a more grown up version of the kid she used to share her dreams of the future with. He was smiling at her and she couldn’t help but smile back. Y/N turned quickly around to send Emma and Taryn looks of panic, but they had disappeared. She was all by herself on this one. Great.

Y/N turned back to Quinn. “Brady and Matthew as usual. Long time no see, Hughes.”

“Too long if you ask me. You look great, Y/N,” Quinn said. He smiled as he looked her up and down. Was he checking her out?

Y/N looked him up and down quickly. “You look great too,” she smiled back at him.

“You wanna get some air? It’s a little stuffy in here?” Quinn looked at her hopefully.

Y/N nodded and led him out to the front porch swing.

They sat down facing each other and let a comfortable silence fill the air, but Y/N couldn’t help herself.

“It’s weird isn’t it? Actually being around each other and not talking over Facetime?” she asked.

“Weird, but nice,” Quinn replied.

“Definitely nice,” Y/N agreed. She was glad they were sitting in the dark otherwise she’s sure he would have been able to see her blush. “I remember us talking about all of our hopes and dreams for the future and all you could talk about was how you wanted to make the NHL so badly. You really made your dream come true. I’m proud of you.”

Quinn laughed. “Thanks, Y/N. There was one dream of mine I didn’t tell you about, though.”

“You were holding out on me? What was your other dream?” Y/N asked.

“I always dreamed of being with you. I know we only met briefly, but I really felt like I knew you through those FaceTime calls. I had a huge crush on you,” he admitted.

It was Y/N’s turn to laugh. Before she could even reply, Quinn was talking again. “You’re so mean, I can’t believe you’re laughing at me. I just poured my heart out to you.”

Y/N reached over and put her hand on his leg to try to get him to calm down. “Quit being dramatic. I was actually laughing at myself because I had a huge crush on you too and I was convinced you didn’t even remember me.”

“How could I not remember you? You’re the only girl I’ve ever told all my dreams to,” Quinn said. He placed his hand on top of her hand.

“Well in my defense, I didn’t know that until just now. Let’s keep up the tradition, though. What are your dreams right now?” Y/N asked.

“That’s easy. You. To get to know you again, to be with you, to share a life with you,” Quinn spoke so softly he was almost whispering. “Your turn,” he said smiling at her.

Between the alcohol and the way he was looking at Y/N, her cheeks were on fire. “Well, my number one dream is to get to kiss the Stanley Cup one day, but you’re a really close second,” Y/N laughed and Quinn joined her. “But seriously, I really do want all of that with you too.”

“Well, when I win the Stanley Cup, I promise you can kiss it. In the meantime, kissing me will have to do,” Quinn joked.

“Wait, you know you’re the real prize, not the Stanley Cup, right? Because that was mostly a joke, I-“

But Quinn leaned in and kissed her before she could finish her rambling. They got so lost in each other that they didn’t notice right away when Brady came running out of the house and started shouting again.

“Y/N! Now are you happy I didn’t tell you about the party? When Quinn told me about your little Facetime dates, I thought you would be too nervous to come if I told you he was here so I left that out!” Brady shouted and grinned at Y/N, clearly proud of himself.

Y/N turned back to Quinn. “You wanted to be with me so badly that you asked for this weirdo’s help?”

They both laughed, while Brady put his hands on his hips and threw his hands up in the air. “Great, just what I need! You two to team up and make fun of me!”

Y/N and Quinn looked at each other and smiled. “Great!” they said together.

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laceandhockeyskates · 4 years ago

Text

Stay with me ft. Matthew Tkachuk

Request: none except for me

Author’s notes: I’ve been thinking about this for awhile so I’m sucking it up and actually writing it for myself I guess.

Warnings: some cussing

Word count: 5.3 k

You had known the Tkachuk family for as long as you could remember; after all you were only three when the two loud and obnoxious boys had moved next door. There wasn’t a memory that you had that didn’t include at least one of the Tkachuk family member. Although there certainly were more that involved Matt than the others.Since they entered your life they filled it with a lot of yelling, fighting, and playing; but also more love than you could ever truly process. It was a breath of fresh air for you according to everyone that surrounded you. There was something about about the boys that drug you out of your quiet shell and instilled a certain level of confidence that you carried with you through everything. With the love of Chantal and the encouragement of the boys you knew that there wasn’t anything you couldn’t accomplish. Although much to your mother and Chantal’s dismay that often meant reckless dares and ending up with a new bruise or scrape, not conquering the patriarchy; at least not yet.

There was a connection between you and Matt that went beyond words despite how crazy he tended to drive you. Even as children he knew just how to get under you skin, but he was also the one who knew how to comfort you. He was the one that tugged on your pig tails, but also was the one who comforted you when you were sad. The relationship you had was the balance you needed in your life.

Your childhood was mostly spent at a hockey rink when you weren’t in school or at your own sports practices. Between Keith’s own games and the boys’ tournaments there was never a shortage of hockey in your life. It was what shaped your entire life after all it was impossible not to when it felt like everything was centered around a hockey schedule, or three. Those were some of your best memories though. After all nothing quite beat sitting near ice level while swaddled up in a blanket with Taryn during the long weekends, especially watching Matt winning.

As teenagers you may have bickered back and forth with Matt constantly, but he was your knight in shining armor on your worst days. The day you had your first heart break it was Matt who wrapped you up in his arms and held you while you cried wondering why you hadn’t been enough for some teenage boy. What you weren’t aware of at the time was just how much it broke his own heart seeing you so hurt, and he had sworn then and there that he would never be the one to break your heart. He would just be the one to figure out how to piece it back together.

Somewhere along the way your heart had become a melted mess for your curly haired best friend. You knew better than to believe that boys like Matthew Tkachuk would ever end up with a girl like you though. It was simply how the universe worked. You could be happy with your friendship though, because at least he was yours in some way.

The day that he left for Calgary was the day he had ripped your heart out clean from your chest and took it with him. Of course you had known it was coming long before it had actually happened, but you still couldn’t help but be scared about what it meant for your friendship. On one hand you were overjoyed for Matt getting to live out his childhood dream, but on the other it was the most distance between the two of you that you ever had to deal with.

During the seasons while he was in Calgary you kept busy with college since you weren’t as lucky as he was to have an insane talent to fall back on. For the first time since you had met you were living completely different lives. It was a terrifying change and you were sure that within a year he would have moved on from your friendship.

Except he never did.

Instead every Saturday you both fit in a facetime call with each other, making it a rule that the two of you held onto tightly. Of course you tried to fit in any other phone calls that you could and text messages were constantly flowing between the two of you. But once a week you needed to see his face just as much as he needed to see yours. Your heart still ached for the physical contact during the season, but you made up for it through out the summers and whatever short trips you could manage to make happen during the season.

Three and a half years of your life slipped past your fingers before a pandemic hit the world thrusting everything in your life into chaos. With mere weeks until graduation it suddenly looked as if everything you had worked so hard towards was going to be ripped from your hands. Of course you were going to still graduate and have your degree, but it wouldn’t come along with the entire graduation day you had planned. You wouldn’t get to see the emotions of your parents, or have Matt twirl you around in your cap and gown, or see Keith trying to play off his own feelings about your accomplishment, or even having to deal with Chantal shoving you and all of the siblings together to get as many pictures as she could manage.

Yet there was Matt. He answered every call that first week as you felt as if you were losing your mind. Once he was home though you had basically moved in with the Tkachuk family. Before you had always been welcome in their home, but with quarantine came your parents constant fighting and you couldn’t live under the same roof anymore.Without a question they took you in and made you feel at home just like they always had. Matt being there had just been an added benefit to help keep you sane.

-----

Growing up movie nights had always been a weekly event between the two households. More often than not you ended up pressed between Matt and Taryn a fact that at least you and Matt had never grown out of despite the many nights of side glances from your families or the chirps that came your way. But nothing could have stopped your tradition, after all it was where you felt complete.

Quarantine brought what felt like nightly movie sessions after a long day of competitive games held between the siblings and their father. During which you and Chantal tended to be on the deck sipping on a drink during the mid afternoon summer sun. Being around the Tkachuk family meant there was constantly some form of a game going on just so they could prove who was the better brother or son, since you all knew that Taryn was truly the best Tkachuk. At least you were never bored and always entertained.

Movie night had always been a favorite of yours, but now there was something just---different about the time you spent in the Tkachuk family room. Perhaps you had missed the way it felt to be pressed against Matt’s side as you felt the way his fingers played in your hair. Or perhaps it was just missing the feeling of family. Something that had been lacking in your own family the last few months. Or it could have just been the fact that you missed it all. This was where you belonged after all.

The night had started out with both of his siblings spread out along with the two of you on the floor but through various movies they had both wondered off to their bedrooms leaving the two of you alone in a comfortable silence.

“I have to go back to Calgary,” Matt whispered to you as he moved to wrap his arms tightly around your middle in order to hold you tightly against his chest. You had known that it was coming since it was all Keith could talk about, but you were ignoring just how soon you would be without your best friend again. His words were a blow to your heart still even with the heads up.

You had turned your head slightly in order to look up at him taking in the way his jaw was set and the way that his hands ran along your side. It was clear in his body language that it wasn’t something that he wanted to discuss yet. Which was probably why he was distracting you with the way he was touching you, there was no way he didn’t know that it would cloud your own judgment. Although it was nothing out of your normal with him, it still set your skin on fire.

If only there was a way for you to know that Matt was having his own reaction to you. You had always been his best friend that he happened to be in love with even as a teen, but something had shifted and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hide it. A fact that often terrified him because he always knew that he would never be good enough for you, but he knew he couldn’t live life without you tucked by his side. Even the thought of ruining the connection the two of you shared was enough to freak him out. Could he truly live with someone else sweeping you off your feet either?

You sucked in a deep breath wanting to reign in your own emotions as you tried to piece together the words that rushed through you head. Something had shifted between the two of you, but you were afraid of him going back and things changing again. Your hand reached down to grab Matt’s hand as it ran along your side as you moved to wrap it completely around you settling your focus on the wall across from you. “When do you leave?” You asked him quietly unable to look at him. You knew if you took one look at him that you would break.

“Monday,” You heard him huff quietly causing your hair to stir a bit. You didn’t even have to see his face in order to know that he was pouting. It was almost second nature that he seemed to always pout when he had more on his mind than he was saying. You supposed that you could play his game for one day instead of giving him any issues about it.

Sighing dramatically yourself you shifted to turn in his arms so that the two of you were now face to face so that you were able to see his face fully. It was then that you had noticed just how closely that the action had put you though, but you weren’t going to back down. “Okay Mr. Dramatic what’s going on in that head of yours?” You asked him quietly wanting to help him any way that you could.

Seeing Matthew going through any struggle was difficult on you. All that you wanted was to ease any burden on his shoulders that you could. After all it was exactly what he did for you. Every single time you had needed him he had made sure to force you to talk about your problems so that he could find the solution that you were missing yourself. Now it was your turn.

You felt Matt’s hand reaching up tugging gently on the ends of your hair as his eyebrows furrowed together. What you wouldn’t have given to be able to read his thoughts in order to make it easier on him since he seemed to be struggling. “I just don’t want to leave you again. We have always spent summers together, it feels as if everything is changing now,” he admitted as his steely gaze flicked up to meet your own eyes.

You understood what he had meant though considering you felt the world shifting around you as the days dragged on, and it terrified you. This was suppose to be your last summer of freedom before you settled into an adult job that meant no more long summers with your best friend. However all of those plans were being ripped from you thanks to a global pandemic. You had spent the last few months trying to recreate your exciting summers. There had only been so much that you could manage to do though. Now you only had a few days before it all came to a close and he was back in Calgary.

“I’m guessing that there’s no change in keeping you here is there?” You asked him already knowing what the answer was. There was absolutely nothing that would stop Matt from being with his team and chasing the cup. If there was a sliver of a chance he could bring it home he would be there working his hardest. It was just another thing that you loved about your best friend.

You watched as he pursed his lips close seemingly lost deep in his own thoughts for a moment. His hands dragged his hands back down your side to settle on your hip before he let out a quiet breath that he had been holding. “Or you could come to Calgary with me,” he suggested quietly as he didn’t dare to meet your eyes.

You had visited often during his seasons whenever school had allowed you to, but this would be different. This wasn’t an offer for a long weekend. Instead you knew that it was going to be a few weeks, but it was a few weeks with the boy that you were hopelessly in love with, and probably the last time that it would happen.

“Okay.”

It was a simple response, but it had pulled a smile from him that seemed to be brighter than any you had seen in the last few months. You knew that you had a lot to figure out but for now you were simply filled with excitement about what the next few weeks could bring the two of you.

------

The last few days in St. Louis had sped by in such a flurry that you had barely had time to even catch your breath. Before you could completely process what was happening you were sitting beside Matt on a plane heading towards his home in Calgary. You knew that you would be stuck in the apartment considering there was still a pandemic going on in the world, but at least the nights would be spent with him. You had been so excited about your time with him that you hadn’t even taken a moment to consider how much more difficult this was going to be on your heart. Living in such a domestic situation was bound to get your heart twined up in more even more than it already was. Considering how long you had been in love with him though you knew that even that was saying a lot.

You had been lost in your thoughts when you felt him leaning over the armrest in order to get a better view of the word search that you had been working on since you had taken your seats. “Are you bored of my sparkling personality already? Because I have some bad news about how long the next few weeks are going to be for you if you are,” his laughter had your heart soaring in your chest.

You weren’t sure if you could ever be tired of Matt, but out of everyone you knew specifically that his ego didn’t need to be stroked more than it was. You shifted in your seat to look fully at him as you rolled your eyes unable to hide the amused smile that pulled on your lips, “I could always go hide at Elias’ I’m sure.” You knew that you had won the battle when he pouted to himself pulling back with a murmur about the game not being fun anymore. You hadn’t won the war though, and you knew that.

The flight had been fairly uneventful considering that almost as soon as you were in the air you felt your best friend dropping his head on your shoulder before dropping off to dreamland. You were fairly use to it by now, and while your heart strings were certainly being tugged you never felt more content as you moved to watch a movie during the flight so you wouldn’t risk moving him even slightly.

You found yourself being practically drug across Calgary International Airport with your hand in Matt’s since he had taken it the moment you had stepped off the plane. There was something about his excitement that fed into you. He was home, and now he got to make it yours for the foreseeable future. Although if he had his way it would be just as much your home as it was his. One day at a time though he knew it would be a long battle to get there.

It took longer than you had wanted to get through customs, but once you were free and had your uber on it’s way you noticed Matt turning his attention to you as he took you in while he ran a hand through his unruly curls. The smile he flashed you had your heart playing pitter patter against your chest. “I’m happy that you decided to come with me, Y/N.”

------

The first few weeks had passed in a blur as you had settled into the guest room at Matt’s apartment. You knew that it was difficult for your best friend to not be able to drag you around the city to show you the place he called home, but risking the process to get to the playoffs wasn’t worth it even to you. From the parts that you could see though you knew that this wouldn’t be the only time he would have a chance to show it all to you the way he truly wanted to. Maybe you could even see Calgary as your home at some point.

The two of you had settled into a comfortable pattern together. Both of you waking early enough to have breakfast together before he would have to rush off to practice. You would spend the time apart cleaning the apartment no matter how much Matt argued with you about just enjoying your time, and not supposedly picking up after him but it was your mess too. When he would get back the two of you would make dinner together and settle in for a few more episodes of Gilmore Girls. A fact that you were still happy about being able to con him into binging with you.

And even if he wouldn’t admit it to you he would have watched anything if it meant seeing the contentment on your face. All he could imagine while he held you on his couch was just how much happier he would be if this was his entire future. He knew that you were all that he would need to be happy, but he would have to get his head of his own ass soon if he were to make it happen.

Unfortunately time passed far too quickly and before you were ready you were standing on the tarmac hugging Matt as tightly as you could manage while you kept your head buried against his chest. You already couldn’t wait for him to return to you, but you also knew that you wanted him to stay in Edmonton and win a cup. You would survive a few weeks without him by your side.

There had been a debate about going back home to St. Louis while he was gone, but given everything happening in your own family dynamic you had decided that staying in Calgary was the best plan at least for now. Being on your own at least gave you time to clear your own head, and it wasn’t as if the Tkachuk family would ever allow you to be on your own. Facetime dates were a daily occurrence with Taryn and Chantal during the day, and every evening you fell asleep on the phone with Matt.

This day was harder than the others had been, not because you were alone but because you missed having him there with you constantly. You hadn’t realized just how much you relied on having Matt to hold you together until he was hours away. You had curled up in his bed simply wanting to feel closer to him while you watched the game with every intention of moving back to the guest room where you had been sleeping.

You just hadn’t realized how tired you were. Before you knew it you were drifting off to sleep midway through the second period. It wasn’t until your phone started to ring to alert you to an incoming facetime that you even stirred. Your brain wasn’t processing what was happening as you hit accept and adjusted yourself in the bed to actually look at your phone. The shit eating grin on Matt’s face was the first sign that was something was up. You rubbed at your eyes tiredly knowing unable to put together what was happening until you realized just where you were. The room wasn’t strange to you, but it certainly wasn’t the room that had become yours.

“So how comfortable is my bed?” He asked finally as he fully took you in. The tired look on your face, the fact that you were wearing one of his shirts, and you were tucked into his own bed. It was almost as if you were trying to kill him, but at least it would be a blissful death.

You knew that your cheeks felt warm you just hoped he couldn’t read your embarrassment too easily on your face. You knew that you were kidding yourself though because he could read you easier than anyone else had ever been able to. “I missed you,” it came out as a grumble but you knew that he would hear it.

You watched as his face seemed to melt at your words, but you weren’t sure if you were reading too much into it. “You could have just taken over. I’m not there after all someone might as well enjoy it and you look adorable in my shirt too.”

You knew that he was teasing you. There was no way that he was even trying to be flirtatious with you. You were now sitting up holding the phone in one hand and playing with the hem of the tee shirt you wore with the other when you heard Matt trying to get your attention. “Pretty girl, what’s going on in that head of yours?” he asked giving you his full attention.

God how you wanted him to be yours. For his shirt on your back to be marking you the way you wanted it to. For his sheets wrapped around your body to be the same sheets you shared every night. But you knew that you’d never be the girl to get him.

“I was just thinking about how weird going home to St. Louis is going to be after being here for so long now. It almost feels like Calgary should be home now.”

You weren’t sure what spurred your words, but once they were out there was no taking them back. They were there between the two of you, and you knew that it was probably too much.

Instead he shocked you as the widest smile you had seen on his face took over. “I mean you could just make it official and move in,” The offer was there for you to take, but it was too generous. You already knew better than anyone else what it meant for you to move in. If you thought for a moment that Matt would even consider splitting the bills you didn’t truly know him. And you were an independent woman that wanted to pay for your fair share of everything.

“Would you actually allow me to pay any bills?” You asked curiously even if you knew the answer. Of course not.

He didn’t bother hiding an eye roll from you as you took him in.”Okay but you would be cooking and taking care of the apartment. It’s only fair if I’m the one paying the bills! Come on, Y/N. You know it would be fun.”

It would be fun for some time. But then there was the concern of how you’d react to him bringing girls home. You knew you would be jealous no matter how little of a claim you had on him. It was just asking to ruin your friendship.

Everything in your heart told you to say no, but one look at the hope on his face the words suddenly seemed stuck in your throat unable to be forced out. “We can at least talk about it,” you caved watching the victorious look on his face knowing he would try everything to convince you to stay.

-------

After that first night it became habit for you to curl up in his bed while you were on facetime with Matt until one of you fell asleep. There was something intimate about those nights and those conversations that seemed to continuously creep closer and closer to a line you can never uncross once you were on the other side of it. You were terrified about what it all could mean, and if you would lose him all together. But you also couldn’t stop yourself. You wanted to be it for him in the same ways that he was it for you.

The playoffs were short lived however between Matt’s own injury and an early round exit you felt your heart crushing in your chest. You knew that he was upset with himself, and could never blame his teammates for what happened. Instead he put that blame fully on his own shoulders.

You hadn’t expected a facetime that night, but before you were able to completely drift to sleep your phone began to ring and without hesitation you answered the call knowing that he needed the distraction.

Still nothing could have prepared you for the tired look on his face as he laid in the hotel bed trying to keep it together as he smiled weakly at you. “At least I’ll see you tomorrow,” he offered up and it was clear that he was reaching for any positive in the situation.

“It’s okay to be upset, Matty. I don’t care what the media says you’re allowed to be hurting over this.” You could strangle the media for always poking at players whenever they showed any emotion. God forbid that grown men were upset when they fell short of their life long dreams and had normal emotions. You just wished that he was home with you.

Because Calgary was home. You weren’t sure how you were going to make it work, but you were going to somehow. You just didn’t know how to tell him until he was back and you had time to piece together your best friend again.

“Y/N,” he whispered quietly causing you to raise your eyebrows. “Thank you for always listening to me. I don’t know if I could do this without you.”

“I’m always going to be here, Tkachuk. You can’t get rid of me that easily,” seeing the tired look in his eyes tugged at your heart. You knew they had an early flight home, but he wasn’t going to be able to sleep.

Tiredly you decided to sit up in the bed committing yourself to staying awake as long as you could to try and make the night easier for him in any small way.

You weren’t sure when you had fallen asleep, but the bright sunlight finally woke you hours later. You had barely begun to stir when you heard the front door opening. You felt your heart begin to race wondering if you had a reason to be afraid, but before your mind could wander too far Matt came into the bedroom.

You watched as he kicked off his dress shoes, and slid his jacket off before sliding into the bed beside you not bothering to change. You weren’t complaining though as his arms came around you in order to pull you against his chest.

“Thank you for still being here,” he murmured quietly against your hair as he nuzzled his face against the top of your head. You weren’t sure if he could get any closer to you, but you didn’t mind. You wanted to be there for him.

You did your best to rub your hands tenderly over his back in order to comfort the best way you knew how since you were both children. “I can’t imagine being anywhere else. I can’t even imagine being in St. Louis now,” it was a quiet admission that held a lot of weight in the words.

You felt the way Matt’s body stilled for a moment as he seemed to process the words before he pulled back to look at you watching the way his smile lit up warmly. “Are you saying what I think you are?” He asked you as he raised his eyebrows.

You weren’t sure you could vocalize what you wanted to say when you saw the look in those eyes you loved so much, but you were able to slowly nod your head. You were going to be a Calgary girl, and he was going to be stuck with you.

There was absolutely no hesitation on his part as he leaned in pressing his lips against your own. Nothing felt more like coming home than kissing Matthew Tkachuk. It didn’t take more than a few seconds for your brain to catch on to what was happening, and if you only had this one kiss with him you wanted to make it truly count. You leaned in returning the kiss eagerly.

Your skin felt on fire as he moved to slip his hands underneath the tee shirt you were wearing. You could have completely lost yourself in his touch, but you forced yourself to pull back in order to look up at him studying his face trying to get a read on what was going on in his head.

You had crossed the line and you needed to know what was going on with him. Any other guy in your life you could do the friends with benefits thing with them, but with Matt you were already so in love with him that it wasn’t a possibility.

Matt could clearly see the gears going in your own head as his face melted into a tender smile. “I’ve only wanted to do that for about ten years now,” he admitted effectively causing your heart to stop completely for a moment, “I’m in love with you, Y/N. You’re the only one that I ever want to come home to. I want you to stay with me.”

You didn’t even have to think about it. This was everything you had ever wanted. There was a lot to discuss but for today you could focus on the man before you and helping him heal from his disappointment. You’d have time to discuss all the details.

#Matt Tkachuk #matthew tkachuk #matt tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk imagine #calgary flames imagine #matt tkachuk imagines #matthew tkachuk imagines #calgary flames imagines #hockey imagines #nhl imagines #matt tkachuk x imagine #matthew tkachuk x imagine #matt tkachuk x imagines #matthew tkachuk x imagines #nhl x imagine #nhl x imagines

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destiniesfic · 4 years ago

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132 Hours, Chapter 5:

If I die out here alone, for nothing, I will feel so incredibly stupid.

Note: There is a content warning this chapter for a brief mention of past attempted sexual assault. The mention comes near the end of the chapter.

Read chapter 5 on AO3, or read below:

Despite the damp cool of the basement, I am warm when I finally blink my eyes open to the dim morning light. Cardan has curled up at my back.

Alpha blood tends to run hot, they say. It plays into the general myth that we are opposites in every way: alphas hot, omegas cold; alphas strong, omegas weak; alphas dominant, omegas submissive, and so on. Scientifically the hot-cold theory has a little backing, though we’re talking an average temperature difference of 0.2 to 0.5 degrees max. But with Cardan so close to me, practically radiating heat, I am almost inclined to believe it.

We’re not touching too much. He has sort of nestled his face into the juncture of my neck and shoulder, and if I hadn’t slept in my sweatshirt I could probably feel his eyelashes tickle my skin. His hand found the curve of my waist in the night. But that’s it. The rest of him is a few inches away, like even in sleep he finds it difficult to overcome his revulsion to me.

It’s almost comfortable, if I forget who I am and who he is. Not even what I am and what he is, because Madoc’s position means that if any handsome, eligible alpha bachelors deigned to outright marry an omega, as he had once married our mother, Taryn and I would be the best of the bunch—best-connected, best-educated, best-groomed. No, it’s that he is Cardan and I am Jude, and I have hated him ever since my body put itself at war with my brain, and he has hated me too, just because I was afforded some small amount of privilege without being born into it.

And still, I stay there for a minute, soaking up his warmth. Because I didn’t think I’d have this anytime soon. I didn’t think I’d get to wake up next to a boy cuddling me, not after what happened with Valerian and definitely not after what happened with Locke. And even though these are the worst circumstances, and this is the worst boy, there’s something perversely nice about it.

Or maybe I just like things that are bad for me.

I was thinking of seeing if girls were better when I got to college, but they don’t really explain how alpha-omega girl sex works in school and I am not about to ask Vivi. And now I don’t know if I’ll even make it to college, so maybe it’s not so bad if I steal a moment of peace.

But then the stink of mildew cuts through Cardan’s rich sweet-musky-boy scent and I am forcibly reminded of where we are and why, especially now of all times, I can’t afford to be soft. So I jam my elbow back into his side, and if I do it with maybe a little less force than I normally would, well, it’s not like he knows that.

Cardan awakens with a start. “Ow!” he says, rolling over onto his back and pressing a hand to his side. “What the hell!”

“You’re fine.” I sit up, take down my now grody ponytail, run my fingers through it and begin to put it up again, watching him out of the corner of my eye. “Today’s the day.”

Cardan scowls at me, rubbing his side.

“Do or die day,” I clarify, looping my elastic around another time. “In case you forgot.”

“I remember,” he huffs. “That mattress is terrible.”

“Well, maybe tonight you’ll get to sleep in your own bed. Or maybe we’ll be dead. Or we’ll be locked in this room again and you can sleep on the floor.”

“Such tempting options. However will I choose?”

I roll my shoulders, trying to work the kinks out of my muscles. “My guess is we’re going to be held up with the police for questioning for a long time. You might not have to. Maybe the choice will be made for you.”

“As always, Duarte, I do so admire your rosy outlook.” Cardan finger-combs his hair and sits up all the way, blinking at me. “I’m still worried about the third guy.”

I don’t tell him that I’d been thinking the same thing. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” I say quietly. “We have two other bridges to cross first.”

Only a minute or so after I say it, there’s that knock on the door. I glance at Cardan, who needs to play the role of alpha today, and wait for him to speak, even though it sucks to defer to him. He takes his time about it, too, stretching his long legs, running his fingers through his hair once more, like he has all the time in the world, like the person on the other end of the door should be so lucky as to strangle him.

Just as I’m about to strangle him, he calls, “Yes?”

The door opens. The scarred man and his gun are there, along with, absurdly, a little paper Starbucks bag in his other hand. An upgrade. He looks at me and Cardan—we’re now both sitting on the mattress, even though we are a few feet apart—but if he has any comments he keeps them to himself. He shakes the bag like he’s trying to call in a wayward dog. “Breakfast.”

“Thanks,” I say, because it is my place to be deferential.

“No coffee?” Cardan asks.

I whip my head around to glare at him. The man grunts, “Didn’t know how you took it.” Disconcertingly, I can’t tell if he has a sense of humor or if he’s serious.

Airily, Cardan says, “Fine. Put it down wherever.”

The scarred man raises both his eyebrows, but he half-sets, half-drops the bag on the floor and backtracks through the door, closing it and leaving us alone. Cardan goes over to retrieve it and peers inside. “Okay, looks like sausage, egg, and cheddar and… turkey bacon?”

I hold out my hand. “Give me the turkey bacon.”

“Oh, thank god,” Cardan says, and this time he doesn’t take a bite out of it before he hands it to me.

“Not a fan of turkey bacon?”

He scowls. “It’s all healthy. Plus, it’s not like turkeys actually have a belly to cut bacon from. You have to grind it up and make it yourself.”

I snort, but am happy for his judgment if it means my breakfast escapes unscathed. It doesn’t surprise me that Cardan couldn’t care less about eating healthily. From what I know, he has a mostly liquid diet, and the liquid is mainly alcohol. Not that it matters much. He probably won’t be able to keep getting away with it after a few more years, but right now his body takes pretty much everything he consumes and uses it to build him more muscle.

I think of how hard I have to strength train for a fraction of what Cardan gains just by existing, and how some of the training shows, especially in my arms and back, but the rest is buried under a cozy layer of body fat, and I kind of want to strangle him again. Just one of the many downsides of being an omega.

Since I don’t have any fun facts about turkey bacon to contribute, we eat breakfast without speaking. We had agreed that it was important to get our strength up for whatever lies ahead, but I find it hard to chew and swallow, even though the sandwich is lukewarm. I end up offering the last half to Cardan, who takes it despite his complaints.

Then, once enough time has passed, he gives me a look, and I nod and stand, shaking my legs out. Instead of staying in my usual corner, I stand next to the door, tense, waiting. With one last glance at me, Cardan strides over and knocks.

We have a system with our captors now. They know that the knocking means we want out for one reason or another. They either call through the door to find out why or just open it right away. This time, the door simply opens. Cardan stays where he is and does not move to the back of the room.

“Hey,” he says. “It’s that time again.”

It’s the woman’s voice I hear, and I am privately thankful. “Okay, back up.”

“But I was hoping I could go first.”

“Back up.”

Cardan takes one step back. It’s now that she realizes that I’m not in my corner. Just a little further, I think. And she gives me the half-step I need.

“What’d you do with your friend?” she asks.

To answer that question, I grab her by her shirt and drag her into the cell.

Surprise is a legitimate advantage, but a fleeting one. Since she’s armed and I’m not, I need to move fast. I don’t have to think much about it. I jam my knee into her stomach; all of the air leaves her lungs in a startled gasp, and her grip loosens on the gun. I pry it from her hand with one of mine and use the other, still fisted into her shirt, to pull her further into the room—and let go.

It only takes a few seconds. I dart out. Cardan has already gone ahead, as I told him to, and I pull the door to behind me, quickly twisting the lock on the knob. That was phase one.

“Um, Jude,” says Cardan.

I turn, raising my stolen pistol in front of me before I do anything else, finger resting dangerously near the trigger. The scarred man stands on the other side of the table, his gun also raised. But instead of aiming it at Cardan, as we thought he would, he is pointing that barrel at me.

“This is a surprise,” he says.

Behind me, the doorknob rattles as the woman realizes I’ve locked her in.

“Let her out,” the man tells us, voice steady and slow.

“Or what?” I ask. Somehow, my voice doesn’t shake. “We’re both armed. Let us go and I won’t shoot you.”

“Do you even know how to use that thing?” he asks.

“What do you think?”

He cocks his head to look me over, evaluate my posture, my steady grip. “Huh,” he says, and then he moves to point his gun at Cardan instead. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cardan’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “I’ll only ask nicely one more time.”

I snort. “Sure. Do me the favor.”

The scarred man raises an eyebrow. Cardan whispers, “Jude?” like he isn’t sure whether or not I am playing a game. I am not sure either. I am intoxicated by the adrenaline pulsing through me.

“We’re not friends,” I clarify. “Shoot him if you want.”

Cardan gives me a panicked look.

“Of course, if you’ve promised to give him back alive, that’s going to cause some trouble.” My palm is sweaty. I shift my grip on the gun. The knob rattles again at my back, and I hear a soft curse, a hand slamming on the door. “It’s your call.”

The man’s lip curls into a kind of terrible smile. “All right, girl,” he says. “You go free. He stays. Leave the gun on the top step.”

I blink. “Really?”

“Final offer.”

I should go right away. Instead, I glance at Cardan, who has gone pale. But he looks at me again, and then, defying all my understanding of him, he whispers, “Go, Jude.”

So I do. Slowly, my entire body quivering with tension, I walk backwards up the stairs, keeping my pistol trained on the scarred man until the last possible moment. I try the knob at the top, and find it unlocked. It seems too easy, but with one last, stomach-churning glimpse of Cardan’s white face, I flee. But I don’t do everything. I do not give up the gun.

The house I step into has obviously long been abandoned—it was probably never even finished. Some of the walls have gaping holes in the plaster, the support beams visible; some were never plastered at all. There is no furniture to speak of. I don’t linger to take it in. I start running, through a hallway, in the direction of what might be the front door. When I find it, I tumble out into bright morning sunlight, and I keep going.

Immediately I know I am well and truly in the middle of nowhere. All around me is a field of overgrown grass. If there is a road, I cannot see or hear it. Still, I have to assume there was once a driveway that led somewhere, so I take off as fast as I can toward a distant line of trees. I do not wonder about Cardan. I do not wonder about anything.

For a minute it is just me, my feet flattening the dew-damp grass, my lungs straining with every breath. I am alone in a way that I haven’t been in days. Then there is a crack from behind me, and then I feel something rush past my face, just missing me. Startled, I drop the stolen pistol, which lands harmlessly in the grass and thankfully does not fire. I don’t stop running for it. Stopping is the last thing I should do, not when I am so close.

Still, my stomach drops. Without slowing too much, I glance over my shoulder back at the house. The second floor is half-intact, and I can kind of see through the wall—there might be a dark shape perched there. A man. The third man.

He’s a sniper.

I swear under my breath, and my panicked heart skips a beat. They chose this place on purpose. There’s no cover out here, giving them a clear view of whoever might be coming or going. Giving them time to move us in case the cavalry arrived. My only choices are to keep running until I am out of range, or stop, and go back. And I am not doing that.

If I die out here alone, for nothing, I will feel so incredibly stupid.

There’s another crack, now unmistakably the sound of a rifle being fired, and this time I feel when it hits—really more of a graze, but it still skims through my flesh about midway up my calf, leaving a tear in its wake. The strange thing is that, at first, being shot doesn’t hurt at all. It doesn’t feel like much of anything. It shouldn’t be enough to make me miss my step. I falter anyway, and when I bring my foot down I land on it wrong and roll my ankle. I drop with a cry into the grass, tears stinging the corner of my eyes.

But even then I keep going, crawling on my hands and knees through the long summer grass, blinking back my tears because I refuse to let myself cry. I don’t look at my ankle or my wound. It is only when I hear the grass crunching underfoot behind me, and a shadow falls over me, that I finally, finally stop moving forward.

I don’t stop fighting, though. The man—Cardan had described him as tall, and he was right—picks me up with some effort and, without a word, throws me over his shoulder like a sack of garbage. After adjusting me a little so my weight is more evenly distributed, he turns to carry me back to the house. All the time I am squirming, trying to kick, pounding at his back with my fists, screaming with the faint hope that someone might hear me. It isn’t enough to get the sniper to loosen his grip on my waist, but I do feel him wince in pain a couple of times, giving me some small, bitter satisfaction.

All I think is, I shouldn’t have dropped the gun.

Despair begins to set in as we reenter the unfinished house, as the sniper shoulders his way through the door to the basement and carries me down the stairs. Cardan is seated in a chair, rumpled but seemingly unharmed, his hands behind his back. Apparently, someone has bothered to tie him up or handcuff him this time. He sits forward when he sees me carried in. “Jude?”

“Are you sure he’s the alpha?” the sniper asks his companions. “He seems to have gone easy on you.” He deposits me into another chair, and the woman is there immediately to cuff my hands, threading the handcuff chain through the chair back so I am well and truly stuck. I see that some of my blood has soaked into the sniper’s black shirt and think, Good. My leg is starting to hurt now, in throbs, like a bad burn.

“You shot her?” Cardan asks, straining against his bonds.

“I’m fine,” I say, avoiding his gaze. I cannot believe he would do something as stupid as give himself up so I could go free. I look at my wounded calf, streaked red. There is an angry-looking tear there, but it could have been much worse. He didn’t hit bone. “It’s a graze.”

“Because he’s good at his job,” says the scarred man.

The sniper shakes his head and disappears into the room beyond the bathroom. He returns with a first aid kit and begins to stoop down next to me so he can clean my calf, but I raise my foot, threatening to kick him again.

“That’s enough,” the scarred man says. “Believe it or not, we don’t want to hurt you kids.”

“Not,” I mutter under my breath.

“Hurting you wasn’t part of the remit unless you misbehaved,” says the sniper. “Is that more believable?”

I scowl and hold out my leg so that he can clean the wound. Cardan’s eyes narrow. “We can’t just trust you,” he says, as a stinging antiseptic pad is applied to the torn skin and I flinch. “We don’t even know who you are. Give us something. Names. Something to call you.”

The scarred man and the woman look at each other. The woman says, “You can call me the Bomb. This is the Roach. That—” She points to the sniper. “Is the Ghost. You can figure out why for yourself.”

“You call yourself the Roach?” Cardan asks. “Wow. I mean, love yourself a little.”

To my surprise, the man grins. “Not my choice, but we don’t get to choose. How’s her leg?”

“The twisted ankle is going to give her the most trouble,” the Ghost replies. He presses a clean cotton pad to the wound and binds it in gauze. Then he starts on wrapping my ankle. He’s efficient; he’s done this before. “Although I’m guessing we don’t want her mobile anyway.”

“I wouldn’t mind if she taught me a couple of moves,” the Bomb says, rubbing her stomach. I wonder if I bruised her. “What was that, karate?”

“Krav maga,” I admit, glaring at the Ghost as he props my foot up on the nearest empty chair. Ignoring me, he stands and leaves to wash his hands. “I’ve been training since I was nine.”

The Roach lets out a low whistle. “Someone didn’t want you getting jumped.”

I turn my glare on him. “For all the good it did me.”

For reasons I don’t understand, the Roach grins and holds up his hands. “This? This is just a paperwork dispute. Once everything’s signed and sealed, we’ll turn you loose.”

“Lot of hassle for some paperwork,” Cardan remarks. “You could have just let Jude go if it isn’t that big of a deal.”

“I’m starting to see it,” the Bomb says to the Ghost. “Although, yeah, I could have sworn the girl was the alpha too for a second there.”

And if that isn’t absurd enough, Cardan leans toward me across the table and asks, “Did they teach you how to slip handcuffs in krav maga school?”

“Do you want to dislocate your thumbs?” the Ghost asks abruptly, reemerging from the bathroom.

I give Cardan a shrug and a nod—that is how to do it—and he shudders.

“Look, we know just about everything there is to know about this guy,” says the Roach, pulling out the last empty chair and sitting across from me. “But now I’m curious about you.”

I blink. “There’s not much to say.”

“He has quite a file on him,” says the Bomb, jerking her head to indicate Cardan, who pulls an innocent face. “But you were nowhere in it. We thought you were a bystander, a fling, or maybe his new girlfriend—”

“His what?” I squawk.

“But you’re way more interesting than that,” the Roach concludes. “Cardan told us this whole little escape plan was yours.”

The Ghost, for his part, leans against the wall, folds his arms over his chest, and says nothing. I decide I would like him best except for the part where he shot me.

“Why don’t you just let Cardan tell my life story, then?” I snap, angry at everything and everyone.

“Gladly,” Cardan says, looking a little too gleeful. “Jude Duarte was born with a chip on her shoulder. She’s glaring about ninety percent of the time and never lets her guard down, ever. As far as I know, she’s only gotten drunk once. She and her sister were the first omegas to graduate from our school, and Jude staged a coup by being named valedictorian, too, as if being first at just one thing wasn’t good enough. Our last semester, she gave a kid a black eye and got him expelled.”

“Why?” The Bomb asks. “What did he do?”

Cardan lapses into an embarrassed silence that I don’t really understand. Valerian had been his friend, once. Maybe still is. I say casually, “He tried to do what alphas always do,” like I don’t still feel the awful weight on top of me, the cheekbone cracking under my knuckles. “So I did what I had to.”

“They expel kids for that now?” asks the Roach. “Huh. Good on them.”

“Jude’s dad made a persuasive case,” Cardan says.

They exchange bemused glances. The Ghost asks, “Who’s her dad?”

Cardan and I look at each other across the table. They really don’t know.

“My adoptive father,” I clarify, because it matters. “He’s a lawyer. Uh, his last name’s Madoc?”

“Oh,” says the Roach. “Shit.”

#jurdan #judecardan #jude x cardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #tfota #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #the folk of the air #jurdan fanfic #mine: fic #fic: 132 hours

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bluesey-182 · 4 years ago

Text

We Have To Stop Meeting Like This - Chapter 12

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / ao3

so this is super fluffy and maybe a little cringey but it’s what i wanted to write lol. hopefully you enjoy!

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Cardan’s bedroom door opened with a flourish and spit out the Ghost looking like he hadn’t changed his clothes in days despite his wet hair suggesting a recent shower. Without pause, Ghost flopped down onto the bed between Jude and Cardan and let out a great huff into the pillows.

“What the fuck are you doing in my room?” Cardan asked sleepily as the disturbance woke him from his late afternoon nap. Jude set her phone down on the nightstand beside her and poked Ghost like he was a dead body.

Dramatically, he flipped himself onto his back and smacked Cardan in the face in the process. “The two of you have been wallowing for two weeks, and I respect that you’re in mourning, but it’s time you got out of this damn apartment and coped like any self-disrespecting person in their twenties would do.”

“What are you talking about?” Cardan asked as he attempted to pry Ghost off of where he was now cuddling Cardan.

“You’re going to drive sweet Jude here back to her apartment where she can change out of your god awful workout clothes and then the three of us,” Ghost paused to throw his other arm around Jude, “are going to a fucking bar.”

“I don’t know if I really--,” Cardan began.

“I don’t care.” With this, Ghost gave Cardan a smooch on the cheek, threw a wink in Jude’s direction, and then left with as much drama as he had entered with.

“I really hate him sometimes,” Cardan grumbled as he wiped away Ghost’s kiss with a grimace. “But honestly it would be nice to get out.”

“Okay,” Jude said simply.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” Cardan’s expression suggested he was hoping she’d want to come.

She gave him a real smile and answered honestly, “Yeah, it’d be nice to get out. And to put on some real clothes.”

Cardan laughed and leaned over to kiss her cheek. “Then let’s go to a fucking bar, as Ghost so astutely put it.”

Taryn was in the apartment--without her annoying ass boyfriend, thank god--when Jude came home to change her clothes. The twins exchanged a glare but otherwise ignored each other as Jude made her way to her bedroom. She had already showered that morning at Cardan’s so now only needed to throw on some clothes and do something with her mass of curly hair. Digging through her closet, she came out with a pair of black skinny jeans, knee high boots, and a yellow crop top Taryn had given her that was decorated with various fruits. After dressing she ran a comb through her hair and decided to just leave it down for the night. As a last thought, she threw on a bit of mascara before leaving the apartment and running down the outdoor stairs to climb back into Cardan’s BMW. Surprisingly the Ghost had stayed in the backseat this time.

"Whoa," Cardan whispered as he took in Jude's outfit. He didn't seem to notice he had spoken but his eyes scanned her reverently from head to toe before meeting her own gaze. His eyes were alight as she gave him a slow grin.

"I think this is the first time I've seen you at a loss for words," she teased.

"I think you're shorting out my brain," he finally said. "Fucking hell you look beautiful."

Jude felt herself blushing all the way to her collar bone. The longer Cardan looked at her like that, the hotter she felt.

"So, ummm," Ghost interjected, making Jude and Cardan jump at the sudden reminder that they weren't alone. "Can we go now or do you two need to go upstairs and like… take care of this?"

Now Jude was blushing for a different reason and she couldn't explain why she was filled with the urge to smack Ghost, but she was also beginning to suspect this was a normal symptom of being around him. With a final grin in Jude's direction--a grin that somehow felt like a promise--Cardan started the car.

They ended up at the same bar as before and had to do a few laps around the parking lot to find a parking space. Finally, Cardan squeezed his shitty car between two trucks that were clearly compensation for some rednecks and piled out of the car as best they could in the narrow space. It was Friday night in a college town so, of course, the place was packed.

Inside they were greeted with someone’s squeaking rendition of an Abba song. Ghost let out a loud groan at the same time Cardan laughed uproariously.

“Fuck, it’s karaoke night!” Ghost shouted over the noise.

“Then I guess we better get very drunk,” Cardan responded through his laughter.

They were indeed very drunk. They had turned karaoke into a drinking game. Every time one of them wanted to stick an ice pick into their ears because of the horrible singing, they took a shot. Everytime someone in the crowd shouted “Yes bitch!” to a friend on stage, they took a shot. With every sip towards being wasted, Jude became more and more transfixed with Cardan’s increasingly disheveled hair. It was like the hair itself was drunk, tumbling all over the place and hanging in his face. They’d take a shot, he’d rake his hands through his hair, and Jude’s heart would do traitorous things in her chest. Who the fuck let this boy be this hot?

He was saying something to her. Shit, Jude was drunk.

“What?” She asked.

“I said,” he purred, leaning into her personal space so that his lips were so, so close. “That you should get up there.” He indicated the stage and Jude’s stomach dropped.

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“I’ll do it after you,” he promised with a smile.

“Doesn’t mean I’m gonna do it,” she returned with a smile of her own.

Cardan leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her mouth. Jude felt like she could drown in his kiss and happily do so. She thought she could happily drown in him.

“Okay fine,” she relented.

Cardan laughed, “I wasn’t even trying to convince you, I just wanted to kiss my beautiful girlfriend.”

Girlfriend girlfriend girlfriend

“Let’s make a deal, Greenbriar,” she said, rising from her seat to settle sideways in his lap. “We’ll both sing a stupid karoake song and Ghost here,” at the mention of his name Ghost looked drunkenly over at them and smiled like an idiot, “will decide who sang better and the loser has to pay for all of the winners drinks for the rest of the night.”

Cardan threw his head back and laughed, exposing his throat to her. She couldn’t explain why that action made something come alive inside her. “Oh darling, you couldn’t afford all of my drinks. But alright, you’re on.”

As the current song came to an end, Jude stepped up to the stage to choose a song. A lot of them were old 80’s rock music but there were some more recent releases as well, though most she didn’t recognize. Eventually she came across a song she knew. Her heart was racing. Why was she doing this? Her singing was mediocre at best. She was about to make a fool of herself. And for what? To prove something to Cardan? Her competitive side was going to kill her someday. She looked back at their table and was about to go back and tell Cardan she was kidding when he smiled at her. It wasn’t a mocking smile but a supportive one, one that glowed with curiosity and wonder at her. She felt the energy of it surge through her body and stepped up to the microphone.

She sang her way through The Love Club as Cardan cheered her on and not-so-subtly checked her out with a smile on his full lips. Jude wanted to kiss him. The microphone easily detached from its stand and Jude carefully stepped off stage to their table nearby it. She continued to sing, but with more laughter in her voice now, as she went to Cardan and sat in his lap again. Some people hooted and hollered but the noise was lost on Jude as she stared into Cardan’s glowing eyes. His smile was soft, meant only for her. His hands were on her side, holding her to him, and he gently placed a kiss to her cheek. He was looking at her, holding her, smiling at her like she was the only one in the world for him. She felt quiet inside as she finished the song to some scattered cheers around the room.

Jude found she was at a loss for words. A loss for thoughts, more like, and so she wordlessly passed the microphone to Cardan. He smirked, shifted her off his lap, and bounded towards the stage.

"Have you ever heard Cardan sing?" Ghosts asked her over the rumble of the bar crowd. "Like, actually sing? Not that stupid shit he does in the car."

"No," Jude answered truthfully. "Why?"

"You might be in for a surprise."

Cardan picked his song out far faster than Jude had and already the music was starting. Cardan flashed her his signature smirk before he started singing.

"The simulation just went bad, but you're the best I've ever had."

If Jude's singing was mediocre, Cardan's was anything but. Despite his screaming and dying noises in the car when he sang along with the radio, his voice was actually… good.

Which meant Jude was screwed. She must have made a face at the realization because just then Ghost started cackling.

"Like hand prints in wet cement, she touched me, it's permanent."

There was a group of girls by the stage checking out Cardan and whispering to each other but he kept his eyes and his irritating smile on Jude.

"In my head, in my head…"

"I hate him," she said to no one in particular.

"No you don't," Ghost said, "you're just mad you lost."

"You're a dickbag."

Ghost cackled again, "Damn, Cardan was right, you have an arsenal of names to call someone. I like it." He reached his fist across the table and, despite herself, Jude bumped her knuckles against his.

Suddenly a hand was grabbing the free hand in her lap and she looked up to see Cardan's face just before he tugged her off her chair and onto the stage with him. The girls standing by the stage gave her some nasty looks, but Cardan just kept singing to her. She tried to pull away to get off the stage but Cardan spun her around and tucked her against him and all her thoughts left her. There was only the feeling of his stomach pressed against her back, his arm looped loosely around her waist, and his voice filling her ear. She found herself smiling.

And then Cardan pulled away and started dancing like an idiot and Jude laughed so hard she snorted. God, she was drunk. But when Cardan offered his hand again for her to join him, she took it. He looked happier in that moment than he had in weeks and Jude had the sensation of falling.

"I can't hide," Cardan sang, pulling her in close again so their noses were pressed together, "how I feel about you, inside. I'd give everything up tonight, if I could just have you be mine. Be mine, baby."

Her body stopped moving, her attention completely transfixed with Cardan standing in front of her. Cardan's mouth, Cardan's eyes, Cardan's hands. She wanted to snatch him away and run off somewhere to be alone. She just wanted him. And as he gave her one of his real, goofy smiles, her legs gave out beneath her and Cardan was there pulling her up against him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he finished his song before pressing a hot kiss against her lips. The applause for Cardan's performance was louder than it had been after hers and she knew without a doubt that she had lost their bet. But she couldn't bring herself to care when Cardan was still kissing her like that.

Cardan didn't let go of her until they were back at their table, and even then he settled down into his chair with her still in his lap. Her legs were still around him and she buried her face into the crook of his neck to breathe in the scent of him. His various earrings tickled her skin but she only buried herself deeper. His arms were a solid wall around her. She was safe here with him. She always would be.

"So do I have to tell you who won or is it obvious?" Ghost teased.

Finally, Jude pulled away from Cardan enough to look at their friend. "It's obvious, jackass, but you don't have to rub it in."

As Ghost laughed, Cardan gently tipped Jude's head back towards his. "You were really good though."

"Oh, please, no I wasn't," she said with a blush.

"All I could think about while you were up there was how badly I wanted to kiss you," Cardan whispered, so close she could feel his breath against her lips.

"Just kiss?" She breathed.

Cardan smiled a wicked smile and looked at her lips. "Why, Jude? Having dirty thoughts?"

"Maybe." The word came out in a whisper as Cardan leaned in to kiss her again. The kiss was desperate, one after another after another, and then his tongue slipped into her mouth and his hands slid up her back and--

"You guys are the fucking worst," Ghost said behind them.

Cardan pulled away but immediately buried his head against Jude's chest. "I'm gonna kill him. I'm actually going to kill him."

With a smile, Jude pressed a soft kiss to the top of Cardan's head and rose. She laughed as he shifted in his seat and arranged his legs in a manner that hid what was going on in his lap after that kiss. He stuck his tongue out at her like a little kid as she continued to laugh.

They took an Uber home. Despite Ghost’s best efforts, he went home without a man or woman for company. They walked into the apartment, arms slung about each other's shoulders, like a three headed monster--still singing a song that had been playing on the Ubers radio. Jude was full of bubbling laughter, Cardan looking at her like she was made of starlight, and Ghost was so drunk that he immediately collapsed facedown on the couch and started to snore. Once in Cardan's bedroom, Jude began trying to take off her boots but her hands didn't seem to know how to be hands anymore. With a soft laugh, Cardan gently sat her on the edge of the bed and pulled her shoes off for her.

"Can I borrow something to sleep in?" She slurred, gripping onto Cardan's shoulder for balance as the world started spinning.

"Of course, my darling god."

He gave her one of his t-shirts and a pair of shorts. She ignored the latter but pulled the shirt over her head after Cardan helped her undress. With a contented sigh, she laid back in his bed.

Cardan used the restroom and changed before climbing in beside her, the motion waking her from her almost sleep. Cardan was humming as he pulled her into him.

"What are you singing?" She asked as she threw her arm over his hip to hold onto him.

"Darling can't you see," he sang softly. It took Jude just a moment to recognize the song as the same one he sang to her in the park. "I'm a broken man with addictive tendencies and I think… I love you."

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in case you’re interested, the song cardan sings at the bar is “bloody valentine” by mgk bc im trash. the next chapter is gonna be steamy and nsfw so prepare yourself for that lmao. hope you enjoyed!

@goblinwhoships @hizqueen4life @courtofjurdan @pilesofriles @velarian-trash @standbislytherin @heyheyheylemonade @ireallyshouldsleeprn

#jurdan #jurdan au #text post #my writing #okay to reblog #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #the folk of the air #jude x cardan

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lets-talk-appella · 5 years ago

Text

Aubrey’s Least Favorite Game

Bechloe Week 2019: Truth or Dare

Summary: Or, the three times Aubrey hated Truth or Dare and the one time she didn't. For Bechloe Week 2019: Truth or Dare.

Word Count: 3k

Rating: G

AO3 and FFN

The first time Aubrey played Truth or Dare, she swore to never play again.

She was in middle school, and Taryn Henning dared Mitch Benson to kiss her. On the mouth, even. Before Aubrey could protest or punch him, Mitch just swooped down and pressed his awkward seventh grade mouth to hers. He had horrible breath, everyone was looking, and Aubrey just wanted it to end, which it did eventually, thank God. Then she punched him.

She was furious for days. You can’t just dare a first kiss on someone against their will. It’s rude, for one thing, and it was her first kiss. She had a whole scenario planned for her first kiss (one that involved sunsets and picnics and maybe Leonardo di Caprio), so for one idiot and a stupid game to take that from her was traumatic, to say the least.

Aubrey never wanted to play Truth or Dare again, or any game like it, to be completely honest. And for the most part, she succeeded in that venture. For any subsequent middle school and early high school party, Aubrey abstained from Truth or Dare, Spin the Bottle, Seven Minutes in Heaven, and pretty much every other game her friends seemed to find endless enjoyment in.

Thankfully, the fun of those sorts of games wore off over time. By the time she was a junior in high school, she allowed herself to think that she might actually be free of Truth or Dare for the rest of her life.

And then she went to college and joined the Barden Bellas.

********************

It wasn’t until Alice, the tyrannical Bella captain, dared her and Chloe to streak across campus that Aubrey realized she may have made a mistake in joining the Bellas.

“This is stupid,” she said to Chloe even as they undressed behind the auditorium. “It’s hazing, you know, and we could seriously bust them for this.”

Chloe shrugged and Aubrey looked pointedly up at the night sky; Chloe was already naked. “It’s not like it’s dangerous,” she said. “It’s bonding, like Alice said. Just Truth or Dare. We’ll get her back next round.”

“We could get in trouble,” Aubrey reminded her as she finished stripping and placed her clothes in a neat pile against the side of the building with Chloe’s.

“No one’s out there,” Chloe assured her. She was right; it was a Saturday evening right at the start of the school year, so campus had become a ghost town.

“Still,” Aubrey emphasized, crossing her arms over her chest and angling her body slightly to the side. She didn’t understand why Chloe wasn’t more upset about this. She also definitely didn’t understand how Chloe could just… stand there, totally natural, as if she wasn’t in her birthday suit in front of a near-stranger. They’d only met that night at the first rehearsal, and yet, Chloe was acting like they’d been friends for years.

Chloe shifted in place, glancing toward the window Alice and the other sophomore Bellas were watching them from. “Look, I know it’s not great, but if we wanna join the Bellas, we just have to do this little dare. Just this one, okay?”

“We’ve been doing stupid dares for that stupid game all night,” Aubrey complained. “You really think this is the last one?”

“I…” Chloe hesitated, then looked down. “I just really want to be a Bella, okay?”

Aubrey deflated slightly. She understood completely. “Fine,” she agreed through clenched teeth, bringing Chloe’s eyes back up to meet hers. “But when we’re co-captains of the Bellas,” she said, making Chloe smile, “let’s promise not to make new girls do crap like this, okay?”

“Deal,” Chloe said, then, “Race you?”

It was dumb, but even that hint of competition made Aubrey’s stomach tighten. “You got it,” she said stiffly, stopping herself from looking at Alice. She didn’t want to give her the satisfaction.

“Ready?” Chloe asked, starting in a lunge that Aubrey mirrored. “Three… two… one… go!”

It wasn’t until later, after their naked sprint across campus was done and they’d put their clothes back on, that Aubrey wondered if Chloe had let her win. The more she thought about it, hovering in the back of her mind even as Alice officially welcomed her and Chloe to the Bellas (“I guess you slut-bags are in it for the long haul,” she’d said), the more Aubrey was certain that Chloe had only done the whole thing to take her mind off of the situation.

As much as Aubrey had hated that dare, it had told her one thing: even after knowing her for barely an hour, Chloe had known competition would be just what Aubrey needed to get through.

********************

The next time Aubrey was coerced into playing Truth or Dare, it was actually Chloe’s idea. It was their senior year, and they’d somehow found themselves co-captaining the strangest band of Bellas of all time. Really, why would anyone want to be known as “Fat” Amy? Chloe had insisted on the game, claiming it would help them all bond.

“Oh, you mean like it bonded us and the old Bellas?” Aubrey whispered furiously to Chloe, pulling her aside almost as soon as the suggestion had left her mouth. “We promised, Chloe. We wouldn’t make them do this.”

Chloe was already shaking her head. “This won’t be like that,” she said. “This isn’t initiation, and we won’t make anyone do anything they don’t want to do. It’s just bonding!”

“I really don’t think—”

“Okay, Bellas!” Chloe called to their new recruits, clapping her hands as she turned away from Aubrey and the whiteboards. “Form a circle, and we’ll play!”

“Chloe!” Aubrey hissed, but her voice was lost under the mingled groans and cheers emitted by the ragtag group as they dragged their metal chairs into a sloppy circle that was really more of an ellipse.

“Does everyone know how to play?” Chloe asked, taking her own seat. “You just pick on a person, and have them choose between a truth or a dare, and then—”

“Yeah, we know, let’s get on with it,” Amy said loudly, waving her hand.

“Totes!” Chloe chirped. “Um, Beca, do you want to start?”

Aubrey had to bite back a sarcastic laugh; the alt girl that Chloe had begged her to let join looked about as happy about this as Aubrey felt.

“Um, I’m good,” Beca muttered, her eyes flicking toward the door. “Maybe someone else wants to—”

“I’ll go,” Stacie said, looking delighted. “Chloe, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Chloe said, and Stacie’s eyes gleamed.

“Who was that guy you were making out with at Hood Night?” she asked, leaning forward.

Aubrey rolled her eyes as most of the other girls “oooohed,” though she noticed Beca took on a more sullen look than usual.

Chloe beamed and launched into an explanation of Tom, which kicked off the annoying game in full. Chloe dared Amy to stand on her chair and sing the alphabet (which she did, stretching it out for a full three minutes, making every letter into one ridiculously long, rather off-tune note); Amy picked Cynthia Rose, who chose dare (to Amy’s disappointment) and subsequently had to attempt to perform a handstand; she looked at Lilly, who grinned evilly, before choosing Aubrey.

Aubrey sighed. “Truth.”

Cynthia Rose grinned. “Do you hate the Trebles because you’re secretly in love with Bumper?”

A few of the Bellas laughed, except for Chloe, who winced.

Aubrey smiled tightly. “No, Cynthia Rose, I hate them because they’re immature assholes whose male energy taints those who are unfortunate enough to find themselves near to them,” she answered, then looked across the circle. “Beca. Truth or dare?”

Beca rolled her eyes so hard that Aubrey was briefly concerned about retinal detachment. “How about neither?”

“Truth it is,” Aubrey decided for her, ignoring Chloe’s small sound of protest. “Are you boning Jesse?”

She knew it was a long shot (Beca had already denied her obvious toner and wasn’t about to admit it in front of all of them) but maybe she’d catch Beca by surprise and be able to toss her snarky ass out of the Bellas.

“Oh my God! Again?” Beca asked, throwing her hands into the air. “Dude, you don’t get it, do you?”

“I asked you—”

“Aubrey—”

“Okay, you know what?” Beca spoke over her and Chloe. “I have to be at the station for my actual job, not wasting time playing this—playing middle school games!” she stood from her chair quickly, grabbing her bag.

“Wait, Beca!” Chloe called after her, but Beca only glanced her way before storming out of the auditorium.

Chloe sighed and looked down at her lap. A trickle of guilt ran down Aubrey’s spine; she hadn’t meant for that to happen.

“So, are we still playing, or…” Amy trailed off.

“I can lead you to Ancient Mesopotamian art,” Lily whispered.

“No, you guys can go,” Chloe dismissed with an attempt at a smile. “Thanks for playing, that was really…” she stopped, her voice lost under the sound of seven metal chairs scraping backward as the new Bellas rose to their feet and started picking up their things. Stacie waved goodbye, but the rest of the girls wandered away and out of the auditorium without a second look.

Chloe wouldn’t look at Aubrey; her eyes stayed focused on her lap even after everyone else was gone.

Aubrey cleared her throat, breaking the silence. “Look, Chloe, I’m—”

“Did you have to ask her that again?” Chloe asked, picking up her head to glare at Aubrey. “She already told you she isn’t seeing him, and besides, you know I—” she stopped abruptly, looking away again.

Aubrey shifted in her chair uncomfortably. “I didn’t know she’d leave like that.”

“You never even—you know what?” Chloe huffed. “I’m gonna walk home. I’ll meet you there.”

“Wait, Chloe, I can still drive us!” Aubrey called after her, but Chloe was already up and walking to the exit.

********************

Aubrey had to hand it to herself; her retreat was a total success.

So what if maybe it had more to do with Beca finally realizing that her ass was not, in fact, a hat, and admitting to Chloe (and everyone, but mostly to Chloe) that she’d been doing a secret internship the entire time. Aubrey thought that was pretty impressive, actually, and was secretly pretty proud of Beca—not everyone gets an opportunity like that—and her confession seemed just the thing to fix whatever weirdness had been happening between all the Bellas.

The hope that the Bellas as an institution might actually continue following a potential success at the Worlds competition put Aubrey in a good mood. Such a good mood, actually, that she didn’t even protest when Emily suggested a game of Truth or Dare around the campfire.

Instead, she joined in, having fun with it for the first time in her life because she was friends with every single person playing. She trusted them, and that made all the difference.

Emily dared Amy to put six marshmallows in her mouth at once, a feat which was accomplished happily; Amy got Flo to confess that she still sleeps with no fewer than twenty-eight Beanie Babies; Flo got her turn, and asked Lily what she was going to do over the summer, the answer to which Aubrey didn’t catch but had both Flo and Amy reeling away from her in horror; no one could hear who Lilly called on, so Cynthia Rose took her turn and dared Stacie to play the rest of the game topless.

Aubrey was about to intervene at that point—the less nudity, the better—but Beca beat her to it.

“Oh come on, don’t make her do that,” she said, picking up a marshmallow to spear on the end of a stick. “The rest of us would have to suffer.”

“You don’t wanna see my goodies?” Stacie pouted, already reaching to take off her shirt. “It doesn’t bother me.”

“Your goodies might catch on fire,” Beca deadpanned, now holding her stick out to roast the marshmallow.

Stacie looked horrified and crossed her arms immediately.

Beside Aubrey, Chloe started to laugh. “Okay, move on,” she said, as the unofficial referee of the game. “Cynthia Rose, you can go again though.”

Cynthia Rose paused. “If there’s no nudity, they have to do it, right?”

Aubrey didn’t like the look in her eyes.

Chloe frowned. “I… nothing illegal, either.”

Cynthia Rose widened her eyes, the picture of innocence. “It’s not illegal! Promise.”

“I guess…” Chloe allowed slowly, and almost immediately, an evil look came over Cynthia Rose’s face.

“Um—” Aubrey started, wanting to shout a general warning before—

“Chloe, truth or dare?” Cynthia Rose asked.

Chloe thought for a moment before replying, “Dare.”

As soon as she said it, Aubrey knew it had been the wrong decision.

Cynthia Rose’s smile widened. “I dare you to kiss Beca.”

Aubrey’s stomach panged unpleasantly. Around her, the Bellas went silent and still; Chloe stared, her mouth hanging open, and Beca sat frozen as the marshmallow at the end of her stick caught on fire.

Then it was like a switch flipped, and suddenly the campfire erupted with noise and Chloe was being urged up from her chair by Stacie and guided around the fire to stand in front of Beca, who still wasn’t moving or blinking or even breathing that Aubrey could see.

And Aubrey was flung back to the seventh grade and Mitch Benson and something about the rigidity in Chloe’s spine and the panic in Beca’s face made her chest constrict because Aubrey wasn’t blind; she knew exactly what had been going on between Chloe and Beca for years (even if they wouldn’t admit it themselves) and she knew with complete certainty that neither of them would have wanted it to happen like this.

“Okay, hang on, stop!” she called out in her drill sergeant voice, and everyone stopped to look at her.

Aubrey took a breath, thinking fast. Chloe still looked like she was in shock; Beca’s marshmallow had fallen into the flames long ago, and now the stick she still held was burning.

“Beca, drop your stick!” she said, and Beca snapped to life, dropping the flaming wood into the fire with a yelp. Aubrey sighed and continued, “We can’t do this, guys, come on.”

“But—but Chloe said!” Cynthia Rose sputtered. “She has to!”

“Right, yes, she did,” Aubrey agreed, “and, um, I was going to say that we can’t do this without a camera.”

The relief on Beca and Chloe’s faces turned to horror.

“So, um, Amy, can you go to the cabin and grab me the camera?”

“But we all have phones.”

“Amy! Go get the camera!”

“All right, all right,” Amy said, hands raised defensively as she stood and started walking toward the cabin. “I’m going! Yeesh, no need to get all—”

She was cut off by her own scream, hoisted into the air by yet another bear trap.

“Oh—Amy!” Cynthia Rose shouted and ran to her, followed closely by the rest of the Bellas apart from Beca and Chloe, who stared at Aubrey.

“Did you just…” Beca started.

Aubrey lifted a finger to her lips. “They’ll forget all about it.”

The smile that Chloe sent her made it all worth it.

“Okay, ladies, get in formation,” Aubrey shouted to Cynthia Rose and the others, walking over to stand halfway between them and Beca and Chloe; she had to direct the take-down. “We’ve done this before, now, get under her!”

She tried not to listen, she really did. But she’d always had keen, military-grade hearing, and really, it wasn’t like Beca and Chloe were being nearly as quiet as they should have been. But as she supervised and directed Amy’s rescue for the second time that night, she overheard the conversation happening not ten feet behind her back.

“So, that was close,” Beca huffed quietly (not quietly enough).

“Yeah, um, would have been really aca-awkward.”

There was a pause during which Amy asked loudly for a juice box, and Aubrey pictured how Beca and Chloe were probably looking everywhere except at each other.

“Do you…” Chloe’s voice was barely there, shaking with nerves. “Do you, you know, maybe want to… try that… without an audience?”

Aubrey stopped trying not to listen and instead focused all her attention on what was happening behind her (sorry, Amy).

“I… you mean, the, like, the… kissing thing?”

“Yeah. Only if you want!”

“Well, there’s—I’m still—Jesse,” Beca muttered, and Aubrey wanted to roll her eyes. She’d seen that one coming a mile away, too, and no one had listened.

“Oh.” Aubrey winced at the disappointment in Chloe’s voice.

“But,” Beca said quickly. “I… well, he and I aren’t…”

Aubrey’s heart rate picked up.

“Look,” Beca sighed, “let me talk to him first, and then, you know, maybe we can try… that… not with an audience? I’d—I’d like to.”

Aubrey could almost feel the excitement coming off Chloe without looking at her.

“Yeah, that’s—totes.”

“Totes,” Beca said, and with great timing; the rope holding Amy up snapped, and she fell with a shout directly on top of Cynthia Rose and Flo.

“Um, great work!” Aubrey shouted over the chaos. “The teamwork was really…” she trailed off, no one listening to her, and glanced back in time to see Chloe reach out her hand and Beca take it, smiling at her more softly than she believed possible.

Well, thought Aubrey, satisfaction creeping through her. Maybe Truth or Dare doesn’t always have a bad ending.

#bechloe #bechloe fic #my writing #aubrey posen #beca mitchell #chloe beale #aubrey POV #bechloe week 2019

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bluesey-182 · 4 years ago

Text

We Have To Stop Meeting Like This - Chapter 11

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / ao3

in case you missed it, i did post an update yesterday so click to link to 10 or to the fic on ao3 to read it :)

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Morning came at a harsh awakening when, besides Jude, Cardan woke with a shout. Jude was instantly alert, looking around the room for any threats while unconsciously grabbing onto Cardan’s hand. When she turned her attention back to him, there was a glazed sort of look in his eyes. Like he wasn’t fully awake, or fully aware.

“Cardan?” Jude croaked, her voice still finding its way back to her after sleep.

“Nightmare,” was Cardan’s only reply. He flopped back down onto the bed and curled onto his side, wrapping his arm around Jude’s waist and gently guiding her back down beside him. She threaded her fingers through his mussed up hair in an attempt to calm the shaking of his body.

“He died yesterday,” Cardan choked, so quiet she almost didn’t hear him. But her hands stilled. Cold ice washed its way through her veins.

“Who died?”

“My brother. Balekin. There was a car accident.”

“Isn’t he the one--?” Jude began to ask but cut off. Isn’t he the one that abused you? didn’t really seem like a question you could ask someone.

Nevertheless, Cardan knew where she was going with the question. “Yeah,” he replied. His voice sounded hollow, like everything inside him had been carved out. Jude didn’t really know what to say. I’m sorry? Is that what you said when someone’s abusive brother died? Jude knew better than anyone how complicated family relationships could be yet she still found herself at a loss for words.

“My sisters are arranging the funeral. My dad won’t talk to anyone. It’s all so fucked,” Cardan said. “And I don’t even know why I’m so fucking upset. Balekin was a dick, he made my life hell, but he was my fucking brother, you know?”

“You can miss someone who hurt you,” Jude replied softly.

“Yeah. I guess.”

“What… what can I do?”

“Can you just…,” Cardan trailed off, as if not sure if he should continue.

“Just what?”

He sounded defeated when he whispered, “Stay with me.”

Jude gently squeezed him and he seemed to further melt into her embrace. “I’m not going anywhere.”

They missed classes. Cardan mostly slept. Jude took to wearing Cardan’s t-shirts and workout shorts when her own set of clothes became too dirty to wear. For a week they isolated themselves in his apartment, ordering in food, watching movies in his room that he barely paid attention to. After the first few days, Jude would coax him out of bed for a few hours to watch television in the living room or play video games that he beat her at every time, even though he was barely there to play them. Cardan had become a shell of himself. He only drank water when Jude asked him to, only ate small amounts of food when she offered him a plate. But despite how he’d seemed to crawl away into himself, Jude knew he was grateful for her being there. She could tell it in the way he would grab for her hand and hold onto it like a lifeline. She could tell it in the way he would just look at her for several seconds while he ignored the TV. She could tell it in the way he kissed her without a word.

When the day of the funeral came, Jude woke up to find Cardan sitting at the foot of the bed in the middle of the night. She crawled over to him, the shirt she had borrowed from him riding up passed her thighs, which caught Cardan’s attention enough for him to place his hand on her exposed thigh as she settled in beside him. But then he leaned his head against hers and began to cry like he had that first night. Jude tucked his head against her chest and tried to make soothing sounds as she held him. When he finally spoke, just to say her name, Jude knew what he was asking before he said it.

So in the morning, when they woke up for good, Cardan got ready for the funeral before driving Jude back home for her to put on a black dress and a pair of flats. He was once again a shell of himself as he drove them to the cemetery, but the whole way there he was gripping her hand like he’d drift off to sea if he let go.

It was a cold morning, promising snow, as they made their way across the expanses of lawn to where a group of mourners stood. A few of Cardan’s sisters came to say hello and give him a hug. They asked Jude for her name but nothing else. The rest of his family ignored him, like he was a ghost at his brother’s funeral.

An old man sat in a chair in the front row and at first Jude thought he might be a grandfather. But when he acknowledged Cardan--barked his name, really--Cardan seemed to deflate even more, shrinking to be as small as he could be despite his height. Reluctantly, he slinked over to the man.

“Father,” he grumbled without making eye contact. Jude felt a small bit of shock at finding out this old man was Cardan’s father, not grandfather. But then she looked around her at the age of his older siblings and knew she should have realized sooner. Cardan shot her a look out of the corner of his eye, a sort of pleading, before motioning ever so slightly with his head that she should go somewhere else. There was shame in his eyes and she knew whatever his father was going to say, he didn’t want Jude to bear witness.

That’s how Jude found herself wandering the cemetery. Lost in thought, she didn’t realize where her feet were taking her until she was almost out of sight of Cardan’s family and standing before two gravestones under an oak tree. Without thinking, Jude found herself leaning against the gravestone behind her as she stared at the ones before her.

She jumped at the feel of a hand on the small of her back but relaxed when Cardan’s mane of black hair came into view. They wordlessly leaned against each other for support as Cardan took in the names on the stones before them.

On the left: Justin Duarte.

On the right: Eva Duarte.

“Your parents?” Cardan asked softly. All Jude could do was nod. “What happened to them?”

Jude gave a small, humorless laugh. “I don’t want to add to your sadness, Cardan.”

“You can tell me.” The hand he had rested on her back slid up to gently cup the back of her head. She felt so small with his hands on her, but she also felt a sense of safety in them. “If you want,” he whispered against her hairline as he gently placed a kiss to her skin. She shivered, and not just from the cold.

“Madoc used to work for the FBI. Well he still does, but this was when he was still just a regular agent and not a director,” she began. Cardan looked confused at the change in subject but let her talk without interrupting. “He and my mom met in college and she got pregnant after graduation. Madoc freaked out and ran off, leaving my mom alone with a baby Vivienne and no money to take care of her. But her best friend, Justin, came to the rescue, as he liked to say, and a year later they were married. A few years later, they had twins. They were happy. We were happy. Vivi looked different from Taryn and I but we never questioned it. After our parents died, we found out that she had known the whole time that she had a different dad, and I don’t know why that, of all things, stuck with me. But it did.

It was family game night and we were all stuffed full of junk food. I don’t even remember what game we were playing. I just remember us laughing while the radio played. And then a song came on that my father loved and he grabbed my mom’s hand and began dancing her around the kitchen while us kids pretended to be disgusted by their love but secretly we were wishing to have that same thing one day.” At this point, tears had begun to fall down Jude’s face, though her voice remained steady. Cardan began stroking circles on her back in comfort.

“You don’t have to finish the story,” he said.

“I want to,” Jude whispered. “I’ve never told anyone this before.”

She cleared her throat and continued, “There was this loud bang at the door. I remember all of us froze. The noise continued, and then suddenly we heard the door come crashing in. My mom’s face was completely drained of color and she told Vivi to take us and hide. There was this little hidden door in the wall that led to a tiny pantry we never used except for in games of hide and seek, and the three of us girls crammed into the space. The last time I saw my dad’s face, he was closing the door on us and saying he loved us.

There was shouting. Some terrible noises. It went on for what felt like a lifetime. And then all the noise stopped and there was some sobbing from the other room that didn’t sound like either of our parents. We were all crying too but Vivi had her hands over Taryn’s and my mouths so we wouldn’t be heard. And then there was more shouting as the police came rushing in. We heard a struggle, a gunshot, and then there was nothing but the police talking to each other and into radios and more cars pulling up outside our house.”

Jude fell silent for a moment, trying to catch her breath as the images came back to her. “See, there was a serial killer going across America at the time. He was delusional, thought he was a werewolf, so on a full moon he’d get high off all kinds of drugs and then break into a house and kill the family inside.”

Cardan sucked in a breath of recognition at the story.

“That night,” Jude said, “he chose my family. The FBI had been tracking him for months. It wasn’t until Madoc showed up to the house that he realized who the victims were. And whose child he found hiding in a cupboard in the kitchen. At that point he had remarried, was trying to have kids with his new wife, and when he saw us he thought it was his second chance to be the father he hadn’t been for Vivi. But Vivi never really forgave him for abandoning our mom in the first place. Madoc led us out of the crime scene, told us to cover our eyes. Vivi made me swear I wouldn’t look.”

“You looked. Didn’t you?” Cardan breathed.

“My parents were… torn apart. And the killer was lying face up on the carpet with a bullet through his skull. I could barely recognize my own home underneath all of the blood.”

“Jude…”

“We went to live with Madoc. He tried to be the perfect father to Vivi despite her hatred for him, but he never seemed to know what to do with Taryn and me. The rest, as they say, is history.” Jude felt like there were no words left in her.

“I’m sorry,” Cardan said softly.

All Jude could do was shrug as Cardan wiped away her tears. “I survived,” she managed in a whisper.

After the funeral was over, they went back to Cardan’s house and collapsed in his bed still wearing their funeral clothes. They wrapped around each other quotation marks and fell asleep with their grief as, outside, snow began to fall.

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hope you enjoyed!

@goblinwhoships @hizqueen4life @judexcardanxgreenbriar @pilesofriles @velarian-trash @standbislytherin @darlingod @heyheyheylemonade @cloudy-peonies @ireallyshouldsleeprn

#jurdan #jurdan au #my writing #text post #okay to reblog #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the folk of the air

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