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nohoney · 10 months

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wake nd bake with keigo. set in the same world as this post.

warnings: weed, smut

You are the first to wake up before your boyfriend, your consciousness rousing from your dream and bringing you back to reality. Your body is still sleepy, it’s so cozy in the bedsheets, and Keigo is still softly snoring. Sun filters through the curtains of the room, the color orange dashing away the blue hour as it begins to rise. It’s barely 6:30 and you’re excited to have breakfast.

“Baby, good morning!” You snuggle up to your boyfriend and press a kiss to his cheek. He rouses a little and you repeat your greeting, “ I said good morning!”

He wakes with a quiet laugh that’s followed by a yawn. He stretches his arms and legs in bed, a satisfied groan echoing into the air before he relaxes and finally returns your greeting, “Good morning, lovebird. How’d you sleep?”

“I slept good. I had a dream last night.” You tell him, wanting to speak of it now before all the details escaped your mind and you’d never recall it again. Keigo listens quietly, humming occasionally to show he’s paying attention. As you speak, the two of you start to get up to make the bed together. It’s a collaborative effort to smooth down the blankets, fold the extra throw blankets, and also fluff up the pillows.

The bed is neat by the time you finish talking about your dream.

The first thing that you do in the morning is to reach for a joint that he rolled last night. It’s wrapped with your favorite paper that tastes like strawberries. There’s a small tin of lighters that you and him just accumulate by accident, grabbing a black one that’s etched with his friend’s name onto the cheap design of it. That friend had learned to stop lending out lighters to you at this point since you’d forget to return them.

You get the first hit, you always do, excited to feel the weed hit your body and make the morning day a little slower. You carefully lift yourself to sit onto the kitchen countertop, not even having bothered to put on any pants and still in your panties. One thing about your home is that you and Keigo are probably a little too free, walking around naked pretty frequently if not at least really under dressed.

All that stands between Keigo being completely naked is just his underwear and house slippers.

“Kettle is coming on babe, what tea do you want this morning?” Keigo asks as he flips the switch of the electric kettle and then moves to bring out a matching mug set from the cupboards.

“Earl grey. I think there’s still some scones in the freezer. Pop them in the little oven.” You answer after blowing smoke between your lips. The joint is passed to your boyfriend, he holds it between his lips, the cherry burning as he as his turn. The scones from the freezer are being warmed in the oven, the kettle is starting to boil, and you notice the ash that needs that’s ready to fall off from the joint. “Mm, baby be careful. Here, the ash tray.”

A little heart shaped dish is presented to him and he taps off the excess ash into the dish. When you set aside the dish, you take back the joint and take in a deep hit. You want your head to be high up in the clouds this morning, you want to feel so lazy and relaxed, put on some cartoons and then do absolutely nothing.

“God, you are pretty in this light. You know that, right?” Keigo awes over you, his own high reflecting in his eyes as he smooths his hands up your thighs. “My pretty girl looks so good and I think she knows it.”

He’s answered with an agreeable hum for you. His eyes watch as you hold the joint to your lips, taking in a breath but holding the smoke in. Understanding immediately, he leans forward for his lips to hover close to your mouth, his cock twitches as he shotguns from you. “You’re making me wanna fuck you this morning.” Keigo speaks as he breathes out he sucked from your lips.

“So why don’t you?”

The joint is more than halfway through when you stub it out in the little heart tray. Your legs spread open, giving him a cheeky smile as your eyes flick down for him to take the invitation. Come fuck me this morning.

Your boyfriend is not one to turn you down.

He stands as close to you as possible, hands on your hips to scoot you closer to the edge of the countertop and he kisses you, humming when he feels your legs wind around his waist. Your feet cross loosely by the ankles but you hold him tightly from above the waist, your arms looping around his neck in a hug. The air starts to smell like the scones that are warming in the convention oven that mixes in with the smell of weed.

“Wake and bake and fuck, huh?” Keigo chuckles as he pulls back a little to pull his cock out from his boxer briefs, “Wish I could do this every day.”

“Maybe if you had a work from home job,” You half joke to him, “just be home and be high on your computer while getting paid. What a dream.”

Keigo gives you a little hum, helping to take your night shirt off and immediately goes to suck one of your nipples into his mouth after he throws your shirt to the ground. Your head falls back and you arch your back, pushing your chest forward and moaning softly as he flicks his tongue. Your hips grind a little in want, your mind is fuzzy, and you love Keigo.

“Can I eat your pussy, lovebird? Or you want me to fuck you right now?” Keigo asks, pulling away from sucking at your tits, looking ready to obey any command you give him.

“You can eat me out.”

You almost laugh at how eager he was to drop to his knees, showing a lot of enthusiasm as he helps your panties off and puts his mouth to your cunt. You prop yourself with one elbow back to support you and the other threads through his hair. When you peer down at him, you see that he’s actually looking up at you with a dazed look in his eye. Whether it’s from being high from the weed or drunk from your pussy, you can’t be quite sure, but you adore how he looks.

“Fuck me with your tongue, yeah?” you’re a little breathless and you meant to sound more commanding but Keigo has overwhelming talent with that mouth of his. Soft mewls and breathy moans fill the sounds of the kitchen along with the lewd licking from your boyfriend at your pussy. You gasp when he spits onto your cunt and jams his tongue into your hole, wiggling it inside you and he groans when he tastes your cum.

If Keigo could have his way, he’d eat you out until you squirted for him. He wants his face buried in your pussy until you’re crying from being too sensitive. All he wants is to see you go cross eyed and stupid from how good he eats your cunt. His heart thrums in his rib cage over how much he wants you but his cock is so hard that he doesn’t think he can wait any longer to fuck you either.

So he’ll make you cum for him one more time with his mouth before he gives you his dick.

“K-Kei, shit shit shit! I love it!” you praise his talent as he gets sloppy for you, not holding back his own filthy noises as he gets messy. He shakes his head after he shoved his tongue into your pussy, your slick and his spit dribbles down his chin, and he almost cums when he tastes your orgasm on his tongue again.

You whimper his name, your legs slightly shaking, and feeling a little cold when Keigo pulls away. He standing up to his feet, already having pushed his underwear off and let it look at his feet. He licks his lips, still glossy from your ecstasy and his chest is flushed. It’s an easy tell that he’s all flustered when his chest or ears get a little rosy.

Keigo pulls you off the kitchen countertop to bend you over, rutting his hips against the curve of your ass. “Beg for my dick, wanna hear that you want me.” He mutters into your ear before licking a small stripe along the shell of it. It’s a small weakness that he discovered about you that he likes to tease you with.

His cock is right there, hard and curved against your ass teasing you. You beg him with pretty whimpers and soft pleas, telling him how badly you need his cock in you. It’s so gorgeous when you’re weak like this for him and you know the reward for it will be beautiful.

Your hands brace onto the countertop, pushing your ass back and looking over your shoulder. “Please baby? Need you really bad, want you to cum in me and fill up my pussy.” You try to entice him to you, reaching one hand back to hold you open for him.

It does the trick.

His hands grip you at your hips and he jolts forward into your cunt, making you yelp and your mouth drop open in surprise. Then Keigo fucks fast into you, rougher than you’d expected for someone who’s supposed to be high.

Then again, your high was broken when you had cum on his tongue the first time so the fuzziness must have left him too.

The sound of skin smacking together and your noises fill the kitchen space. Huffing breaths from Keigo as he drags you back onto his cock, pressing himself balls deep and touches that spongy part inside you that has you throwing your head back and your hands curl into fists. “O-oh god…!”

He says pretty words to you, words that make your heart swell with affection and make you feel all sentimental and gooey. It’s so disgustingly sweet, sweet like the smell of the scones in the air-

Ding!

Keigo pauses his hips, looking back at the little convention oven that had finished warming the scones. You can’t help but laugh a little at the small interruption but at least you know that your treats are ready.

“Let’s finish up, and then we can have our tea and scones.”

You hum in agreement, assuming position on bending over for him again over the countertop and arching your back, having to stand on your tiptoes to keep the position. One hand at your hip and the other grasps your shoulder, you know what it means.

He’s about to fuck hard and fast.

Keigo fucks you to the point that you have no thoughts in your head. The hand on your shoulder keeps you firmly pressed in the position and when you lose your form, he smacks you hard on your ass to remind you to correct yourself. When you feel his nails dig into your skin, you know that he’s about to cum.

“Cum in me, please!” you sob out as you cum on his cock, eager at the thought of being filled by your boyfriend and spiraling you into another orgasm, “Oh fuck, please cum in me! Please-“

You’re not prepared for when he suddenly pulls out, turns you around to give you a smothering kiss that leaves you dizzy. Faster than you can react, he puts you to the floor and on your knees. A tight fist grabs onto your head and you’re made to look up at him.

He cums all over your face instead.

Keigo jerks his cock quickly in his hand, groaning lowly and then tapping the tip of his cock against your lips. Cum is smeared against your lips before you open your mouth to flick your tongue over his tip.

“What the fuck? I said cum in me!” You complain, “Keigo!”

“I’m sorry! I wanted to but-“ Keigo tries to explain as he grabs a kitchen towel from the countertop to wipe your face.

“But what?”

“I wanted a longer fuck later today so I came on your face instead. I came too fast this time.”

Okay fine, that’s a good reason for you but you were really wanting him to cum in your pussy right then and there. You wait patiently as Keigo cleans you up but you know that you’ll have to do a proper cleaning in the bathroom. His hands are held out for you to help you stand up.

“Mad at me?” Keigo pretends to play cute, jutting his bottom lip in a pout and giving you doe eyes. Similar to what you do when you’re trying to get something you want. So you roll your eyes at him before looping your arms around his neck and giving him a kiss, “I’ll cum in you later, promise.”

After you wash up your face and put your clothes back on, you and your boyfriend reignite the joint and smoke first again to bring back the high. The little dining table you have that only has room for the two of you has the scones set up on a plate along with the mugs already steeped with the earl grey tea. There’s even a plate of strawberries and mango set up as well.

“God, these scones taste even better. Don’t you think?” Keigo comments before taking a sip of his tea.

“You’re just high,” you giggle, “and we should put on cartoons and make out.”

“Later dove, I got cotton mouth right now.”

“Again with this later shit? I’ll cum in you later? I’ll make out with you later? You are not being a good boyfriend right now.” You pretend to be exasperated but really you agree. “You and your excuses.”

Keigo makes it up to you by refilling your tea cup and toasting a bagel for you. Then he makes it up to you again getting your favorite takeout delivered. And he makes it up a third and final time by finally cumming in your pussy after making you beg for him.

By night time, you and Keigo are sober and happy and fucked out and ready to just hit the hay. Sometimes you wish that these blissful, do nothing days could last a little longer. Sometimes there are moments that you only want to exist to be high and to be fucked by your boyfriend and nothing more. Lazy days with hazy minds and goofy smiles while you ride on top of him is a paradise.

The next lazy day the two of you have, Keigo is the one to greet you bright and early. “Good morning dove!”

“Mornin’…” you yawn into your pillow before setting your eyes on him.

“Wake and bake and fuck?”

You smile at him, as if you weren’t going to answer anything but yes.

#hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #hawks smut

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iwantjaketosullyme · 1 year

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𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭

➺ pairing: aged up!neteyam x omatikaya!reader (angst) ➺ summary: 'and i say your name in hopes you'll hear it in the stars' (w/c: 1.7k) ➺ warnings: death, grieving, hurt (not rlly any comfort), reader is a lil unhinged?? a/n: loosely inspired by mitski's 'carry me out' so go listen to that, cry a lil bit then come back nd cry some more :( kind of a long drabble, na'vi dictionary at the end !!

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

Every night, you return to the rock on which he died.

His rock. It is where you feel closest to him. Everybody else seems to find solace in the fleeting moments spent with a version of him at Ranteng Utralti, where he is Neteyam and simultaneously, not Neteyam. A cruel merging of both his pure spirit, innocent to his own death and an extension of your memories of him.

You, on the other hand, are too preoccupied with lamenting over the new memories with him that cannot be made – there were parts of Neteyam you were yet to discover, parts of him even he was yet to discover. You mourn not only what once was, but also what never was and never will be.

For Kiri, he is the protective pseudo-twin that effortlessly intimidates the skxawng that dared to tease her for her extra finger, by virtue of the squaring of his shoulders and the furrow of his brow. The white knight she never asked for, but would always appreciate.

For Lo’ak, he is the all-encompassing security of the known world made flesh and bone. A constant. Constant companion, constant rival, constant scapegoat. As a young boy he pinned all his hopes and dreams on Neteyam, nearly idolising his brother, the mighty warrior.

As he grew in both stature and teenage angst, he began to pin his anger at the world that did not understand him and refused to accept him onto Neteyam too.

As he watched the body of his brother sink to the bottom of the ocean floor, the innermost part of him whispered that all that he had pinned over the years grew and grew until it was what tied the metaphorical rock to Neteyam’s ankle, ensuring his fate below the sea’s surface and amongst the ancestors.

Even Kiri, the resident empath, does not understand when you admit your aversion to visiting him at the spirit tree. That version of him is ever close, but ever out of your reach. What she does understand, is when you confide in her that you think the sea yearns for the sky as you do for your yawne.

When the roaring waves crashing against one another almost make it look as if the sea has grown limbs, extending its appendages in an effort to grasp at the elusive sky. Equally near as it is far.

It is here, on this solid rock that you make your peace with the truth. Cold, hard and unmoving, like this rock. You lay in the same position as the last version of him you came to know; a young man stripped of his cognizance, relieved of his typical reservations and nobility, finally expressing his heart’s desire. To go home.

Moved by raw emotion, you compress the length of your form against the boulder, rough surface digging into your back the same way it would have pressed into his – you long to feel his pain. You stretch your arms out beside you, feel the grooves formed by an unknown number of years of erosion. Erosion caused by the sea. The sea gives, and the sea takes.

Each night, you slip away from the communal meal, running from the sympathetic looks of concerned clan members, or the softly – but firmly – spoken sage words of wisdom from Neytiri intended to comfort you. But only you know what comforts you best.

Each night, you run your palms over the jagged edges of his rock and find a new crater within it that you had not noticed before. With each new trace of the same surface you remind yourself of the events of that night, explore another possibility of how it could have ended, what you could have done differently.

It was on that night that you learnt of the cruelty within the Great Mother’s just nature. Of course, you would never dare to question her, for you knew of the love she held for each and every one of her children. This would not, however, fill the gaping hole in your heart that Neteyam had made his place of permanent residence.

It would not remedy the odd lightness you felt on your right shoulder in the dead of night, your body yearning for the familiar weight of his weary head as he finally rests after a long day of protecting everyone but himself. Whispers his grievances into the crook of your neck, secrets he could never fathom telling anyone else. Eternally the saviour with no complaints.

It has been a little over four weeks since you lost your life’s love to the waters around you, and thus the customary mourning period has come to an end. With your knowledge of this comes the realisation that you can no longer grieve your loss so openly anymore; up until this point you had been merely going through the motions of your daily duties. Physically present, but neither mentally nor emotionally – behaviour most unlike you.

Like most in the Omatikaya clan, you were not left unscarred by the Sky People’s greed, be it from the events of the Great War nearly two decades ago, or their recent resurgence in the forest, and so grief was not an entirely alien concept.

With a community of people as close as yours is, was (you must remind yourself that you are no longer a tsmuke of the Omatikaya but of the Metkayina now), it was near enough impossible not to have lost a loved one. You had come to understand that there was no one way of grieving.

That did not, however, prepare you for what you feel currently. Your previous battles with grief had caused a hot anger to sear through your being, fuelling your hatred for the tawtute impostors and renewing your thirst for vengeance. You had cried, dried your tears and ploughed on. This time could not have been any more different for you. This time, yours was a fossilised kind of sadness.

No matter how understanding the Sullys are of your shared grief, with every interaction you have with them you feel obliged to remove the dark veil of your heavy countenance for their sake. Sometimes, when your sense of hurt pushes your thoughts to be more callous than empathetic, you wonder why exactly everybody else is able to move on but you cannot.

Is it because Jake and Neytiri still have three other children to nurture and watch flourish? Because Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk will still have each other? Neteyam was, is still your one and only. As the man intended to be your mate, he was the sole reason why you had even relocated to Awa’atlu with the Sully family. Without him you do not yet know quite how to live.

When your thoughts are more rational and the fog of despair lifts momentarily, you can see the way it still affects them. You hear it every time Neytiri speaks, a gravity present in her voice that was not before – an echo of the keening wail of a newly bereft mother.

You see it in the quiet, steely glint of determination in Jake’s gaze when he has his secret meetings with Tonowari. Where Lo’ak’s nonchalant nature would previously have meant he skives from training in favour of a deep sea swim with Payakan, now he is always first to arrive at the section of the shoreline dedicated to training and last to leave. You know, undoubtedly, another war is coming.

Until then, you will cling to the sanctuary that this rock offers you. Here, you are free to bear the burden of your grief without shame. Carry the weight of it, feel its pressure, let it mould you into a misshapen form no different to the rock you lay on, hunched shoulders and weary back. As you lay back, you allow the gentle waves to lap over you.

You cannot help but wonder what Neteyam must have been thinking when he was laid out here. Did he know that he would be leaving you like this? A small part of you hopes that the coaxing tide will drag you out to sea, beyond the reef, down, down, down into your watery grave so that your body can finally rest, surrounded by the sea anemones. Surrounded by Neteyam.

Gazing up into the night, you give your thoughts the freedom to take shape; twist and turn as they so wish. You imagine them being made physical before your eyes that are glazed over with unshed tears. You will them to float skywards, beyond the cover of night, up, up, up above the ether to reach the stars that hold your beloved. Silent prayers to the still night’s sky.

A small rock pierces the atmosphere, crossing the sky’s black canvas with speed swifter than a palulukan in pursuit and velocity greater than an ikran flying into battle. Lost in thought, you nearly miss the sight of the shooting star, white hot rock cutting through an obsidian sky. An auspicious symbol.

In your eager attempt not to lose sight of it you sit up abruptly, nearly keeling over as you stretch your neck to gaze up towards the sky. You manage to keep it in your visage, panic rising when it crosses over into your peripheral. Wasting no time, you crawl over, scurrying on all fours to the other end of the rock, from which it is perfectly in your eyeline.

Incensed, your arms that are now grazed by the harsh edges of rock stretch out towards the star until you can feel a dull ache in the joint that connects it to your torso. Entire body extended, you open your palms wide to their full span, clutching at the fiery rock before clamping your fingers so tightly together, you can feel the skin pulling tautly over bone.

The gesture is a physical confirmation of your understanding of this phenomenon ordained by Eywa, a promise to her that you will listen. A promise to Neteyam that you will live.

You strengthen your grip on this promise and tuck it away in your heart, in the space that Neteyam used to reside in. Rolling over, you ground yourself, leaning your back against the rock. His rock. He was your rock.

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

na’vi dictionary

ranteng utralti - the spirit tree // skxawng - idiot // yawne - beloved // tsmuke - sister // tawtute - sky person, sky people // palulukan - thanator // ikran - banshee

☼ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵:

@heirtothekingdom , @bebkyu , @amiah24 , @inlovewithpandora , @alathan13 , @girlnred , @ggujkie , @aemondhoe , @malandrinhass , @itsyagirl01 , @mookiepookiesblog , @idekstopasking

𝘭𝘮𝘬 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰/𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 <3

#✦•·.· 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘴 ·.·•✦#neteyam x reader #neteyam angst #neteyam imagine #neteyam fanfiction #avatar x reader #avatar fanfiction #avatar imagine #avatar x omaticaya!reader #atwow angst #atwow x reader #atwow neteyam #avatar twow #avatar

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sebsxphia · 8 months

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bambi. | dream a little dream of me.

rhett abbott x little!reader.

￫ description: rhett spends the evening winding down with his bambi. based off this drabble here.

￫ word count: 2.4K.

￫ c/w: age regression. other than that, fluff, fluff, fluff.

￫ a/n: i understand this is niche, therefore if you’re on my taglist, i completely understand if you don’t read this! | woodland creatures | agere masterlist | main masterlist |

If it was any other Friday night, you and Rhett would be found down at the Handsome Gambler or sinking down a couple beers on your sofa and watching a corny action film from the eighties and debating weather Rhett could pull off that stunt or not. But tonight was different.

The week had been gruelling for you both, with heavy workloads and exhausting physical labour on your ranch for five days straight. There were still bits and pieces to do over the weekend, but you both always tried your best to get most of the work done during the week so your weekends could be spent lazing around with each other in a heap of bedsheets and day-old clothes. Understandably so, you were exhausted and you let yourself float in that familiar and fuzzy headspace.

Rhett could gauge that you were feeling really tiny within your age regression and he set up everything appropriately. Your living room floor had been coated in soft blankets for you to sit on and he had surrounded you with an array of plush cushions and pillows. He knew when you were feeling small within your age, your limbs would get floppier alongside it and Rhett had baby-proofed your surroundings.

The coffee table was pulled up to the sofa in your living room and you were comfortably sat between both. Colouring books aged three years and up had been put to the side and Rhett opted for a stack of coloured paper and pencils for you to scribble whatever your little mind would see. Alongside the scribbles you were deeply focused on, there were toys scattered across the table.

There were baby building block toys, that you would put in the matching shaped holes. There were plastic farm and zoo animals that Rhett ensured were big enough and had no rough edges. Your gathering of Sylvanian Families was placed neatly together and your beloved toy horse that he fixed up was placed at the corner of the table, with a compromise from Rhett.

“‘m sorry, Bambi, I don’t wan’ these little creatures' tiny furniture to get lost ‘nd I don’t wan’ Peach gettin’ any more ouchies, okay?”

You happily complied with the comfort of having your beloved, velvet creatures nearby.

You were snuggly sat in your baby grow that was patterned in delicate and detailed drawings of woodland creatures, including tiny baby fawns. Your pacifier clip that was attached to your romper was decorated in cartoon illustrations of cowboys. The pacifier itself was resting lopsided in your mouth and decorated with cartoon animals. Occasionally in between your drawing, you opted for your Giraffe-shaped chew toy that was layered with different textures.

Off to the side of the living room was the kitchen where Rhett was cleaning up the last of the pots and pans from your comforting and warm meal of macaroni cheese. He had never made macaroni cheese before he met you, but with love and patience, you taught him how and by now he knew the recipe like the back of his hand. He always had the ingredients in your home, ready to create the meal when you needed it most.

Unknown to you, Rhett was watching you cautiously from the kitchen as he dried up the remains of the pots and pans from your dinner. He had baby-proofed your surroundings and there were no real harmful elements around you, but he understood that your headspace was no older than one and he worried.

He took on the role of your caregiver high and mighty on his shoulders. He would protect you to the ends of the earth and the trust you put into him was something he didn’t take for granted lightly. Watching the way the cogs turned behind your eyes and how your body physically de-tensed in his hold as you regressed, was something he would always hold dear and close to his heart. The feeling of cradling you gently as you let yourself become vulnerable in his arms was something truly special. It was an unbreakable and undeniable bond, and he was devoted to you.

From the kitchen, he watched the way your tongue poked outwards from the corner of your pacifier as you concentrated feverishly on your drawing in front of you. Your hand came upwards towards your eyes curled in a tight fist. You rubbed at your eyes haphazardly, in an attempt to stifle an exhausted yawn on this Friday night. Rhett smiled knowingly to himself and turned his back momentarily to place the last of the cook pots in the cupboard and tuck the dishcloth on the rack of the oven.

As he opened the cupboard, he retrieved your milk bottle, strawberry milkshake powder and your milk of preference from the fridge, and placed them all in line on the kitchen countertop. When he turned back around to face you in the living room, another attempted stifled yawn was futile.

The exhausted yawn took over your body whole and you scrunched your eyes shut tight, the pencil in your hand almost going limp against the colored paper. When you came to, Rhett let out a chuckle quietly to himself and made his way over to you. He was gentle on his feet as he padded across the floorboards to your bundle of plush cushions and pillows.

“Hey, Bambi,” He soothed out in a low and quiet tone. As he steadily placed himself down next to you on the cushioned floor, you gave him a sleepy yet gleaming smile from behind your pacifier. “How y’ gettin’ on?”

Rhett knew that within your tiny headspace right now, for you to be nonverbal was normal. You gave him a gleeful verbalized hum, acknowledging his presence and question, still letting your hand scrawl on the paper with your pencil.

He tucked himself next to you and drew his broad arm around your back. You fell into his chest and side almost instantly, positioning yourself against his familiar warmth. His hand came up to the side of your head and he scratched his fingertips soothingly on your scalp, helping you regulate with his touch and subconsciously soothing you into that sleepy state. He knew it was nearly time for bedtime and he would be gently winding you down with his touches and quiet voice. His other hand stretched out and his nimble fingers pointed at the coloured paper. He let out a quiet gasp.

“Bambi!” A hushed exclamation, “Did you draw this?” You nodded vigorously, the ring on your pacifier knocking against itself. “Baby, it’s beautiful. My little one is s’ talented.” He tickled at the side of your ear with his other hand and you let out a giggle.

You tapped the pencil on the paper at the scrawl of a shape and let out a squeal, before turning to meet his eyes. Rhett clocked it instantly.

“That’s me?”

You squealed again and let out a single, “Dada!”

“Where’s Bambi? Can you point them out to Dada?” You tapped at the paper to another shape and he hummed approvingly, a prideful smile twisting on his lips.

Rhett pointed to the last scrawled-out set of shapes and colours, and he watched how your eyes drifted to the corner of the table where your beloved toy horse he had fixed up was sitting.

“Is that, Peach?”

You nodded again and mumbled out from behind your pacifier, “Tu’ day.”

Rhett let out a silent, “Ah!” and a rumbled chuckle, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest. His hand was now cradling your head against him and you wrapped your whole body into his. He put the pieces together and he knew you were referring back to the Tuesday just passed. It was an almost alarming hot day that came from nowhere and you took the evening to ride out on his horse to the wildflower fields, far, far off from your home. He remembered how after you both made your way back home, you were both tuckered out, but you smiled to yourself and told Rhett with a loving and whole look in your eyes, “I needed that. Thank you, Cowboy.”

He was silently touched beyond words that you would remember that day and that you treasured it so fondly that you would draw it, even within your tiny headspace.

“Bambi was s’ sleepy after that horse ride with Daddy, weren’t you?” He craned his face down to take in your sleepy eyes and the way your eyelids were struggling to stay open. The knuckle of his index finger came up and gently brushed against your nose and he still watched with adorning eyes how your nose twitched slightly.

You gave him a small nod and completely succumbed to his grasping hold, burying your face into the crook of his neck and latching your arms around his neck. Rhett read how your body was melting against his, how your muscles relaxed and your breathing was starting to even out, getting slower and slower with each passing second.

“Alright, little one. I think it’s time we get y’all ready for bedtime.”

There were occasions when at these words from your caregiver's mouth you would protest and plead to stay up for just one more hour, but your body had completely succumbed to the exhaustion. You weren’t putting up a fight anymore. You just wanted to sleep, curled into your Daddy’s chest.

Rhett waited for a beat and at your silent admission, he let his arms drop to your legs, scoop you up and hoist you to his hip as he stood. He took you into the kitchen where he placed you down gently on the wooden chair seated at the kitchen table. You let out a protesting whine as his comforting warmth left your body, your face contorting into a frown and a small pout behind your pacifier. Your hands reached out as fast as they could and you held onto the cuffs of Rhett’s plaid shirt, tugging on them to not let him take a step further.

He cooed at you and took your hands in his, squeezing them tightly and placing two kisses on the backs of them. “It’s alright, Bambi. Daddy’s right here. M’ not leavin’ your side. I’m just gon’ make you a bottle, okay?”

You gave him another verbalized hum in agreement to acknowledge what he had said and you tentatively let go of his calloused hands. You attempted to watch what Rhett was doing with big eyes, but your eyelids were drooping at every blink. The milk was poured into the pot and left to warm slowly on the stove.

At this point, Rhett came back (which was only two steps away from the oven, but it felt like miles) and lifted you, sat himself down on the kitchen chair and brought you to sit in his lap. You resumed your previous position of wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face into the crook of his neck. You inhaled his familiar and comforting scent of cedar wood and leather, and Rhett’s hands placed on your back felt your ribs expand and then let out of any tension you had.

Gently he began to rock you against his chest and in his arms. All that could be heard was the crackling whoosh! of the gas on the stove and quietly in your ear, Rhett’s low voice, humming a lullaby.

“Stars shinin’ bright above you, night breezes seem to whisper, I love you. Birds singin’ ‘n the sycamore trees, dream a little dream ‘f me.”

He continued for another two verses of the lullaby, his drawl getting lower as he went on before his head picked up and he heard the bubbling foam of the milk rise to the top of the pot. Slowly, and without causing too much disturbance to your nearly asleep frame, he untucked you from himself, placed you back on the kitchen chair and drew together your bottle. It was a combination of milk and a little dusting of strawberry milkshake powder.

With an instinct from yourself, as Rhett came back over to your side, you slipped off the kitchen chair and outstretched your hands to him. He carefully and gently hoisted you to his hip and carried you back to the living room, with the warm bottle in his hand.

“Alright, little one, let's get you cosy against Dada, yeah?” Rhett hummed as he placed himself down on the sofa. He propped himself up in the corner at the end and sat you in between his thighs with your head resting on his upright chest. One hand still held the bottle for you and the other reached for the television remote on the sofas arm. The television had already been quietly playing in the background for the entire evening and he switched it on to an episode of, ‘In the Night Garden’ before you could blink.

Rhett brought the bottle to you and began feeding you, with it still held in his hand. From this angle, he could ensure your safety and could carefully hold the bottle to not let you drink down too much too quickly, or wipe your chin briefly with his thumb. His spare hand was soothingly rubbing your arm, with his fingertips ghosting over your arm hair and tickling you gently. As you parted from your bottle in parts, he would return to running his fingers through your hair and scratching firmly enough on your scalp to regulate your sleepy-induced state. Occasionally he would dip down and place fluttering kisses on your temples, murmuring quiet words of praise against your warm flesh.

The sweet taste of the milk was dancing on your tastebuds and as your eyes were focused on the television in front of you, they were struggling immensely to stay open for more than five seconds.

Rhett clocked the remaining droplets left in your bottle and gently lowered it down, to not get the droplets caught in your throat and tickle you with a horrible cough. Instinctively, he knew this would signify the end to you, but he waited for you to confirm this before pulling the bottle away entirely.

“Fin’, Dada.” You murmured out with sleep lacing your words.

Very few words had been spoken by yourself this evening, but Rhett took this as your sleepy admission. The bottle was placed to the side and he brought you in closer to his chest. His nimble fingers found your pacifier in quick time and placed it between your lips. Another flurry of kisses was placed to your temple and as your breathing evened out to a slower pace, you felt the low rumble of Rhett’s chest underneath you as he spoke the last words you remember that night.

“Atta’, Bambi. Close your eyes, little one. Daddy’s got you.”

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @currentlybradshaw @unmistakablyunknown @iloveprettyboysblog @wkndwlff @flames-thebitch @randomfandomgirl96 @kmc1989

tagging those who may be interested: @sunblchdfly @lewmagoo @bradshawsbitch @peachystenbrough @becks-things @mangokitkats

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demetriandelibinaryboyfriends · 5 months

Text

@ckhalloween23 heyyyyyy bestie(s) I know I'm an entire-ass month late, BUT

HERE'S A PREVIEW OF THE ELIMETRI DARKFIC I PROMISED

Listen, y'all can't give me a "Serial Killers" prompt and the opportunity to write the dark, unhinged Demetri Alexopoulos of my dreams presented on a silver platter and NOT expect me to go a little apeshit ^^;

Or. A lot apeshit. Because boy did I let this funny little comic relief guy SNAP ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Also, funnily enough, I realized over the course of the last year or so that I'm probably autistic? For the longest time I held off on writing Hawk's POV because I hc him as autistic and I didn't think I could do him justice, but...I've unlocked this Fun Secret Collector's Item now, I guess XD Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz POV acquired!

Decided to give it a stab here, since him having NO fucking idea how to react to Crazy Demetri was just too much fun. Hawk came to me surprisingly easy once I got started, actually??? I mean I've always related to him a lot but I had no idea it was like. An autism thing. I thought it was just an ND thing akisudhlkuhyfu

Head's up to Tory and Robby stans...this may not be the fic for you. You have been warned 👀

CW for blood, violence, knife-threatening, light knifeplay, toxic relationships (although YMMV), mentions of murder, implied slut-shaming, homophobic slurs, and sexual subtext.

Fic under the cut! As always, moodboard pic credits available upon request :3

***

Hawk’s on his 30th rep when he hears the front door.

He stops mid-jab, the punching bag rattling on its chain as it sways back and forth. Scoffing, he rolls his eyes.

His mom must be home early. How fucking annoying.

He was looking forward to having the house to himself. With his father on a weekend-long business trip and his mother at her Friday night wine hangout, he was finally going to catch up on training without any interruptions.

The last thing he needs is to be outdone by Kyler Park and Robby Fucking Keene.

Hopefully his mom won’t come knocking, pestering him to watch movies or some other frivolous crap. He doesn’t have time for that anymore.

Strange. There’s a notable lack of the jingling and clattering that usually comes from 50 million things being shifted through an oversize purse. Hawk pauses, listening for any noise.

Maybe he imagined it.

“What the hell.” He takes a sip of the Red Bull on his bedside. Some sleep-deprived delirium or whatever it was wasn’t going to fuck up his focus.

Sure, he’s been averaging 5 hours a night, but who gives a shit? It’s not like anyone in high school actually gets enough sleep.

Sensei Kreese said in ‘Nam, they had to be ready to fight on a moment’s notice—geared to slaughter enemies after a mere 30 minutes’ rest in 48 hours. Hawk doesn’t strive for anything less.

The stairs creak.

His mom isn’t usually one for sneaking past his room, but perhaps she’s too tired to be chatty. He thanks the powers that be this seems to be the case, and returns to his reps.

Jab, cross, roundhouse. Jab, cross, roundhouse. Elbow. Knee to the chest.

He counts them out as he goes, power surging through him. Sensei will be sorry he started singing Keene’s praises when Hawk’s a better fighter than that piece of shit ever was.

Because throwing someone off a balcony when they had their guard down was a coward’s move. Typical Miyagi Do bullshit.

God, Hawk hates them. Hypocrites. Losers. Pussies.

He thinks of a new insult every time he lands a punch.

Miguel’s fucking insane for not appreciating what Cobra Kai did to get payback. What Hawk did to get payback.

His fists are starting to ache, fingers burning from being smashed against rubber again and again. Hawk doesn’t care.

Sensei would say the pain makes him stronger.

Jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross—

“You know, at some point, I think you’re as good as you’re going to get at punching.”

A shadow blocks the hallway light.

Dread grips him in frosty talons. His arms still, the punching bag swinging back and smacking his chest.

He gasps, stumbling back. Still, he refuses to look at the doorway.

Refuses to let Demetri see his shock.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

He presses as much venom into the words as possible. Enough intimidation, and Demetri will back down.

He knows now that Hawk is as real a threat as he ever was. And Demetri’s smart enough not to keep poking at a tiger that’s already mauled him.

“In what world would I not remember where you keep your spare keys?” Demetri sneers.

Well. Maybe that’s a bit generous.

“What do you want?”

Hawk keeps his tone steely, hoping he can kill whatever plans are swimming around his ex-best-friend’s head before they even form. In all likelihood, Demetri’s here to be a nuisance at best and a night-ruiner at worst.

Fucking Demetri. He’s always been such a distraction.

Hawk needs to get rid of those.

He thought he did. But Demetri is apparently either too stupid or too obsessed with the past to be properly scared away.

Irritating, but admittedly also interesting. It shows a kind of boldness that he wouldn’t expect Demetri, of all people, to have.

“Maybe I want to check in on my best friend.” Groaning footfalls as Demetri starts to slowly cross Hawk’s room. “I see you avoiding me at school. And you didn’t even bother to show when your little friends crashed Sam’s party. Perhaps I want to see how you are, hmmmm?”

And try as he might, Hawk can’t pick up the usual sarcastic edge to Demetri’s tone. He frowns at his far wall, confused.

There’s something odd in Demetri’s voice, and Hawk can’t for the life of him pick up what it is.

He still refuses to look at his oldest friend. He’s not going to give him the satisfaction of undivided attention.

Demetri is a pest, and should be treated as such.

“We’re not best friends,” Hawk says tightly, landing another punch on his bag. “Whatever we were? It’s done. Has been for a long time. Why can’t you get that?”

He finally graces Demetri with a look. He’s expecting the usual sullen look—scrunched brow, open mouth, widened eyes. Like he’s eternally surprised Hawk doesn’t need him anymore.

A look where maybe, if he prods it farther, Demetri will storm off. Or run off crying. Be out of Hawk’s sight.

Be somewhere where Hawk doesn’t have to think about that night at Golf N Stuff. Or how it felt to watch Demetri writhe on the floor. Or the streams of vomit that ripped from Hawk’s stomach as soon as he got home.

Or what he did to himself in the wee hours of the morning, when no one—not his mother, not Cobra Kai, not Sensei Kreese—was around to see.

But when Hawk glances over now, Demetri is smiling.

Not a contemptuous sneer, or a pained grimace. A full-on grin, splitting his cheeks and stretching much wider than the situation calls for.

Hawk inhales sharply.

Demetri shakes his head, laughing. “It’s almost endearing, you know. What a tryhard you are.”

He squares his jaw, refusing to budge as Demetri advances on him. “I thought I made it pretty clear what I think about you. You want another reminder?”

Hawk balls his fists, trying not to think about how hard the words are to force out. How hard he’s working to keep the iron shell he’s built around himself intact.

A strange smell hovers around Demetri. Acrid and metallic, like he’s spent too much time mucking around inside one of those computers he’s so besotted with.

“How revoltingly naïve.” Green eyes burn into him like acid, the glint behind them unlike anything he’s ever seen. “You thought you’d break my arm once and be done with me?

Hawk finds himself backing away.

“I’m not going to make it that easy for you, Hawk.”

Something in the way Demetri spits his new name finally gives him clarity.

“So what the fuck do you want from me?” he spits. “Why did you come here?”

“I came here because you were right. About everything.”

Any response is snatched from Hawk’s mouth.

For several seconds, all he can do is stare. Demetri smirks, apparently reveling in getting a leg up.

Hawk is so confused that he can’t even find it in himself to be angry. A strangled “what?” is all that comes out, pulling a snigger from his adversary.

“You think you’ve got it all figured out. Becoming the scariest fighter in the Valley. Making everyone quiver at the sight of you. Doing whatever you like because people aren’t brave enough to tell you no. Becoming your badass karate teacher’s little golden child. Getting rid of your weaknesses. Getting rid of me. But there’s one thing you got wrong.”

Typical Demetri. Monologuing around the point.

But Hawk is, nonetheless, finding his confusion turning to intrigue.

The mopey kicked puppy routine had gotten unbearably tedious. At least Demetri finally has the decency to give Hawk some variety.

“Oh, yeah?” He curls his lip. “What’s that?”

Demetri casually leans on Hawk’s dresser, like this is nothing more than a Friday night video game session.

“You think I avoid fights because I’m scared. But that’s not true anymore.” And there’s that grin again—that wide, unnerving grin that looks like it was pasted on from another human being’s face. The sort of manic look that would never in a thousand years belong on Demetri Alexopoulos.

“I avoid fights because I know who’s worth fighting. And who’s worth hurting.”

Well, that’s new.

Hawk narrows his eyes, trying to piece together if this is all some kind of trick.

“See, Eli, you were right that the world isn’t kind to people who get too soft.” Demetri starts sauntering over again, and that odd, metallic smell strengthens. “Or losers. Or weaklings. Or people who admit defeat. Give in too easily. Run off cowering and scared. So I’m shaking all that off. Next time I fight, I won’t lose.”

As Hawk pieces everything together, he scowls.

“So that’s what you want?” he hisses. “A rematch? Like you’d stand a chance.”

“So touchy. Do you only think of people in terms of whether you can beat them in a fight now? Boooooring.”

Demetri clicks his tongue disapprovingly. It’s a mocking gesture he’s been doing since they were little, but now something about it feels chilling.

Hawk’s back bumps his bedroom wall. Demetri’s closing in on him.

Fucking hell—he’s getting fed up with this cat-and-mouse. Why is he even entertaining this stupid nerd again?

It’s not like he gives a shit about him anymore. Then he wouldn’t snap his arm in half.

“Fuck off, Demetri!” he roars. “I fucking hate you. I don’t give a shit about anything you have to say! Get the hell out of my house, or I swear to god I’ll break your arm again.”

He fills the words with fire and force and poison, hoping something will hurt Demetri enough to make him go.

He can’t cave again. Not after he’s worked this hard to oust Demetri and everything he represents from his life.

Not after he’s severed Demetri’s bone with his own hands and smiled with his friends about it.

That should’ve been the last straw. That should’ve been what sent Demetri running for good, abandoning everything they’d once had to save himself.

But it didn’t. It fucking didn’t.

Demetri takes another step into his space, curling his lip. “You’re full of shit.”

“Fuck you.” Eli returns his stare, baring his teeth. “How are you so sure?”

“Because you hesitated.”

Hawk goes rigid.

“I begged you to stop.” Demetri’s hands slide onto the wall on either side of him, trapping him. “And you thought about it. You didn’t break my arm until all your psychotic teammates goaded you on. If you really hated me?” His voice drops to a breathy whisper. “You wouldn’t have even thought twice.”

“You don’t know shit.”

Demetri snickers.

“Poor little Eli. You’ve always sucked at arguing when you get backed into a corner.”

“I still broke it,” Hawk growls. “You know I can do it. Easily. So how are you stupid enough that you’re still fucking with me? You some kind of masochist?”

“You still care about me, Eli.” They’re inches apart now, Demetri leering over Hawk. “You never got over me not wanting to join your little club of sociopaths. Whenever there’s a rumble, you can’t stay away from me. And you want to know what I think?”

“Shut up.”

Demetri’s voice is husky in Hawk’s ear. “You wouldn’t hurt me when there’s no one to show off to.”

Hawk’s done with this.

He lunges, shoving Demetri’s chest and flying at him with an outstretched fist. He waits for that gratifying moment of shock—the familiar shift in Demetri’s features as he realizes yet again Hawk has no intention of going easy on him.

Demetri doesn’t even blink as he moves out of the way.

Hawk course-corrects, swiveling and diving for Demetri again. He throws the fastest punch he can manage straight at Demetri’s jaw.

Why the hell won’t he give up?

Demetri’s fantastic at giving up. He always has been. He gave up on standing up to bullies and he gave up on Cobra Kai and he gave up on Sensei Kreese.

So why won’t he give up on Hawk?

Demetri doesn’t dodge this time. He only swerves, allowing the fist to graze his chin.

He lets out a hiss of pain—angry, but not surprised.

Without warning, Demetri’s hands shoot up. Hawk freezes as long fingers snake across the skin of his arm.

The next second he’s screaming, Demetri’s hands twisting until his skin burns. The other boy’s grip tightens, thrusting him toward the floor.

He’s stealing my fucking moves again.

And frustratingly, he can do them fast. Hawk barely manages to use his other arm to shove Demetri off, stumbling back.

Even one moment of disorientation is too long. Demetri charges again, teeth bared like a wild animal.

One arm slams him against his bedroom wall while the other digs into his chest, squeezing the air out of him. And Hawk hates to admit it, but Demetri’s training-broadened shoulders have a terrifying amount of power behind them.

Nothing he can’t handle. Hawk’s taken on bigger opponents before.

He squirms in Demetri’s grip, his own arms loosening enough for his hands to make a grab for the taller boy’s throat. Then Demetri’s pinning hand is gone, slipping in and out of his jacket in what feels like less than a heartbeat.

Something cold and sharp presses Hawk’s throat. His hands drop, tensing against the wall.

“What the fuck…?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you, Eli.” Demetri tilts his head, pouting mockingly. “But you make it so damn hard to talk to you. Can’t do a thing without you coming at me like some kind of rabid coyote.”

“So you pull a…are you fucking insane?”

“Like you’re one to talk, Mr. Red Hulk Rage Issues.” The pout morphs into a smirk. “Clearly, you’re not above playing dirty, using that sad little Eli voice of yours to get out of trouble. Figured it was time I caught up.”

Hawk feels something sticky dripping down his neck. His breath hitches in his throat.

He aims a hit at Demetri’s stomach. The taller boy bends with it, and the blade presses harder.

“Oh, come now.” Demetri tuts disapprovingly. “Don’t make me slit your throat.”

Hawk hardens his expression, channeling everything in him into hiding the shock.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I don’t think you’re in a great place to test that.”

And he’s right. Hawk hates it, but he’s right.

This isn’t the Demetri he knows better than the back of his hand. The Demetri he knows so uncomfortably well that he convinced himself over and over and over that it meant he was sick of the fucking geek.

This isn’t grounded, rational, sensible Demetri. Something’s snipped his threads, made him start fraying at the edges.

He’s unraveling, floating in an ether where the pragmatic and the path of least resistance that he made his life philosophy are losing their appeal. He’s…

Well, it seems he’s done some script-flipping of his own. Decided—perhaps on a whim—to overhaul everything Hawk knew and replace it with something cold and alien and completely fucking unpredictable.

Was this how Demetri felt, that day Hawk showed up at school with spiked hair and a conniving sneer? Is this some kind of payback?

He doesn’t care if this new boy with a knife to his throat killed and gutted the friend he grew up with. It doesn’t matter anymore. That relationship only ever got in the way, anyhow.

He truly could not care less. Honest.

The only emotion he feels is annoyance that this new opponent will be harder to match, with erratic moves and a quickly-thinning conscience.

This Demetri isn’t pulling any punches. One stupid or sloppy move, and Hawk will be on the floor gurgling his life out.

He’s never taken Demetri for someone impulsive, but perhaps he just had a talent for controlling his most brutal and primal urges—for his own safety, if nothing else. Perhaps he’s lost this ability.

Hawk wonders what it says about him that he isn’t bothered by this at all. If anything, he finds the whole concept exhilarating.

Fighting Demetri had gotten so boring. Now, at last, they’re on equal footing.

Regardless, there could be a trace of the Old Demetri yet. He might be able to use that.

“Put the fucking knife away or I’ll call the cops,” Hawk snarls. “Think you’ll get into Stanford with a police report on your permanent record? Or whatever fucking nerd school you’re trying to—”

“With what phone?” Demetri interrupts. “The one you left on the coffee table downstairs so it won’t distract you from wailing on your stupid bag?”

Fuck. How did Demetri even notice shit like that?

Hawk tries not to let the dismay show.

“When my mom gets home, she’ll—”

“Mommy’s not coming for you, Eli.” Demetri’s smirk widens. “Mommy’s getting drunk with all her friends to forget her unfulfilled suburban picket fence life with her nasty, violent delinquent of a son. And Mommy’s going to crash at Michelle Galinski’s house, just like she has every Friday night for the past 10 years. And oh dear…Daddy’s out of town on his top-of-the-month business trip? Looks like no one’s coming to save you.”

Fuck that. He can save himself.

Hawk makes a grab for Demetri’s wrist, other hand clawing at the arm compressing his chest. Demetri seamlessly lifts the elbow of his knife-holding arm and jabs the bony appendage into Hawk’s skin.

The knife blade doesn’t even falter, pressing more firmly into Hawk’s neck. A sting, and he feels something warm trickle toward his chest.

The scent from earlier intensifies, and Hawk realizes abruptly that it must have been blood.

“Mmmm-mmmm.” Demetri purses his lips and shakes his head, like he’s scolding a disobedient child. “It’ll make it much easier for both of us if you don’t act up. I really don’t want to cut your throat, but I will.”

As Demetri sneers down at him, Hawk realizes too late that he couldn’t cover his alarm.

“What? Don’t think I’d actually hurt you?”

The taller boy fiddles with the knife, sending little pricks of pain rippling through Hawk’s neck.

“I guess you know how it feels now,” he purrs.

Hawk spits in Demetri’s face, sudden fury overtaking him.

This pathetic nerd’s not going to make him feel bad now. Not after everything he’s done to crush the part of himself that possibly could feel bad.

“Fuck you.”

And slowly, never once breaking his gaze, Demetri licks Hawk’s saliva off his chin. The dim hallway light just catches the moisture on his face.

“Keep it in your pants, Moskowitz. We’re not there yet.”

Now Demetri’s definitely fucking with him.

It’s growing tiresome. Nonetheless, he doesn’t want that cut in his neck getting any wider.

There’s something distinctly unnerving about the way Demetri’s eyes are boring into him, sizing him up with a kind of cold contempt. Looking at him like he’s nothing more than some ugly insect to crush under his shoe.

It’s the sort of callousness that Hawk has never once—not in the entire time he’s known Demetri—been the target of.

And maybe he’ll admit it. He dislikes it for more than just the fact it throws him off.

Demetri is spiraling into someone unrecognizable, and the sheer foreignness of the whole process makes Hawk shudder.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Hawk’s voice is small and weak. Like Eli’s.

He doesn’t care.

His entire sense of reality—every absolute, irrefutable truth he’s ever attached to himself and his life and his oldest friend—is uprooting and spinning out of control, and it’s not like anything fucking matters anymore.

Demetri laughs—a sharp, hollow sound devoid of any real humor.

“Like you’re one to talk. I know what you did to Brucks.”

Hawk’s blood freezes.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Demetri’s knife slides from the cut on Hawk’s neck, beginning to tease the underside of his chin. “Mitch told us what happened. And I damn well noticed when Brucks stopped showing up to school. Nice of your war criminal sensei to help you cover that up.”

Hawk’s breath comes in quick, short gasps.

Of course Demetri put two and two together. Of course he’d gone snooping so he could find something else to hang over Hawk’s head.

And the fall of that knife might be worse than the one currently tickling his jaw.

Part of him hates it. Hates being reminded of that day and hates being reminded what he’s capable of. Hates remembering the sight of a living, breathing person crumpling to the floor, and realizing they would never get up again.

But Hawk isn’t stupid. If anyone can play Demetri’s games, it’s the person who knows him better than anyone in the world.

“Demetri.” He keeps his tone as calm and non-abrasive as he can. “Who else’s blood is on your knife?”

Because it was still wet when Demetri shoved it up against him. And Demetri’s a moron if he thinks Hawk missed that.

“Ah. And we finally get to that.” Demetri chuckles, gently tracing Hawk’s jawline with the honed edge. “You see…the difference between you and me, Eli, is that I don’t need anyone’s help to hide my bodies.”

His heart drops to his feet.

“What did you do?”

“Not any worse than you.” Demetri cocks his head. “I hurt someone who deserved it.”

“Demetri.” Hawk steels his voice. “What did you do?”

Because whatever it was, Hawk sure as hell needs to take the proper precautions to make certain he isn’t next.

“Stopped at the convenience store on the way over here.” Demetri follows the knife with his eyes as he talks, expression almost affectionate. “Ran into one of Kyler’s old buddies from the wrestling team. One of the kids who used to call us fags, remember? He thought it would be fun to shove me around. So I pretended I was running my ass away, and got him to chase me somewhere a little more…private.”

Hawk gapes at him.

“Did you really…?”

“Shanked the asshole like a pig. He was so surprised he didn’t even fight back. And let me tell you, it was the most fun I’ve had in a while.”

And there’s that laugh again—the broken, disjointed chortles that feel so jarringly out-of-place. Green eyes shining with a frenetic light that makes Hawk’s hands grow slick with sweat.

Demetri leans in again, knife held steady as his lips brush Hawk’s ear.

“I know how it feels, you know. I know what it is to get so angry that you don’t even know what your body’s doing until it’s too late. Watch the life fade out of another human being’s eyes. Realize you like it. Sit there panicking about being some kind of inhuman monster and then suddenly realizing you don’t fucking care. And I suppose…I suppose that’s another reason you were right. There is a certain freedom in embracing that the world is cruel and cutthroat and unforgiving. In finally unmuzzling the wild animal thrashing around inside you and letting it hunt the way it was always meant to.”

Hawk shudders.

Sensei Kreese promised no one would ever find out about Brucks. Staged some kind of car accident or binge-drinking tragedy or drug OD or some other way stupid teenagers die all the time. Kyler was barred from the funeral, with Kreese worried (probably reasonably) that the dumbass would let something slip.

Kreese told the class that if anyone snitched, he’d be more than willing to look the other way as they met the same fate as Brucks.

Hawk hated how much he enjoyed it. He hated how after the deed was done, he couldn’t find a scrap of guilt in his psyche. It made him feel detached from himself—the abstract idea that doing that to another person was bad, but the complete lack of any emotions to back it up.

But that’s who he is now. No going back, he supposes.

Perhaps, on some level, he figured Demetri would pick up on this and leave him alone. Decide that Hawk’s path was too dark and too dangerous for his pasty basement nerd tastes, and stay huddled away with the Miyagi Dos singing kumbaya.

That would probably be best for him, anyways. Hawk still doesn’t know what other horrific shit he has it in him to do, especially when his victim pleaded so hard for mercy that would never come. When Brucks’ fruitless begging gave him an unmistakable rush.

And yet here Demetri is, claiming he was in a similar position. Claiming he lost control.

It isn’t that Demetri can’t put on an act if he needs to. But on some level, Hawk’s always been able to tell when his best friend is exaggerating or embellishing to make a story more interesting. There’s a kind of snarky undertone he uses, always giving that he isn’t completely serious. Subtle, but easy to pick up if you’re familiar with it.

There’s none of that here. If anything, this is the kind of emotional vulnerability Demetri never displays intentionally.

Until now, apparently.

Hawk bites his lip. “You’re not lying, are you?”

“You’re so cute.” The tip of the knife jabs into the underside of Hawk’s chin. “You thought I was some…what? Some sissy little do-gooder? The pinnacle of morality and mercy and all great virtues? No, no.” He giggles. “I’ve always been as fucked up as you. I only managed to keep it buried longer.”

Hawk scowls, suddenly remembering exactly who he’s talking to.

“Give me a fucking break. You joined the pussy-ass ‘defense only’ karate dojo. Your entire philosophy is about being sissy little do-gooders. Like you’d have the balls to pull even half the shit Cobra Kai—”

The knife flies back to the wound in his throat, Demetri using his arm to ram Hawk harder into the wall.

“You think I ever gave a flying fuck about Miyagi-Do?” he spits. “You think I’m some slavering pet like you, tripping over my little lapdog paws to appease my sensei’s every command? You think these asinine karate wars ever mattered to me? No.” He shoves his face into Hawk’s, blood on his breath. “You’re the one so obsessed with following orders that you can’t even remember who you were before you became some demented old man’s attack dog. You’re the one so drunk on loyalty to a fucking karate dojo that you can’t see none of this shit matters.”

Hawk bares his teeth, hoping with everything he has that Demetri won’t notice him shaking.

“Easy for you to say, when you pussied out after one punch in the face,” he sneered. “Of course you want to believe all of this is pointless when you’re on the losing team. But I’m not like you, Demetri. I’m no quitter.”

“Oh, how admirable.” The knife presses a little harder. “Tell me then, Hawk. How’s being on the same team as Kyler? As fucking Robby Keene? You excited for the chance to help them hurt Miguel again?”

Red-hot rage rips through Hawk. He lifts a leg and knees Demetri’s shin as hard as he can.

Demetri barely even winces. His other foot kicks up, ramming the side of Hawk’s knee. Hawk scrambles for balance, heart pounding as he just avoids falling into the knifepoint.

“Thought that’d hit a nerve.”

“Fuck you!” Hawk spits. “Keene was from your fucking dojo! You fought with him, too!”

“Not since he hurt Miguel.”

Demetri’s voice is frigid, rivaling the most biting winter rains. Every inch of him drips with a venomous hatred that Hawk has never seen before.

Not directed at him. Not directed at anyone.

“And now he’s in your dojo. Funny how that works.” Demetri clicks his tongue. “Guess your roaring rampage of revenge was all for naught.”

“It wasn’t.” Hawk curls his lip. “You were all responsible, and we got our paypack. It’s not our fault Miguel wasn’t grateful.”

“Ooooh, gotta love the Hawk’s impeccable logic! ‘Ah, yes, I think I will terrorize everyone in this dojo except for the person who actually almost killed my friend, who I will agree to team up with for some reason!’” Demetri returns his sneer. “Are you really such an obedient little bitch that you do whatever your precious sensei tells you? Even when you damn well know it makes no sense? You’re more pathetic than I thought.”

“Park and Keene know their place,” Hawk hisses. “They know I’m the alpha. They answer to me.”

Demetri cocks his head, looking amused.

“Even if I were to believe that. Do you like sharing a class with those assholes? Do you like knowing that if one of them were to get their ass handed to them by a Miyagi-Do or an Eagle Fang—by Miguel—that you’d be expected to rescue them?”

“I’d do it.” Hawk grits his teeth. “I wouldn’t like it, but I’d fucking do it. Sensei Kreese gave Sensei Lawrence and the others a chance to join back up with Cobra Kai, and they said no. Miguel chose his side.”

Demetri sighs, expression almost pitying.

“I guess ‘Cobra Kai for life’ trumps a Cobra’s desire to beat another Cobra into the damn ground. Kind of a shame. I think you’d enjoy hurting them.”

What Demetri said earlier circles back into his mind.

I avoid fights because I know who’s worth hurting.

Hawk straightens, keeping his composure.

“Sensei says we need all the allies we can get,” he says. “Even if we don’t like them. I’m putting up with Kyler and Robby long enough to win the tournament, and that’s it. Then I’ll find some way to weed them out.”

“I doubt it.” Demetri smiles down at him. If it weren’t for the knife, Hawk would punch his teeth in. “Contrary to how you act, I know you’re a smart guy. If you knew how to get rid of them, you would have already. No, Eli…” His voice drops to a purr. “You’re stuck with them, aren’t you?”

Hawk feels sick.

Leave it to Demetri to pinpoint his deepest fears—a karate clan filled with the worst people Hawk knew. Not a single friend to speak of, and a sensei with constantly divided attention.

Even Tory was turning out to be a fucking snake in the grass. She certainly took to the boy who nearly killed her ex with not an ounce of guilt.

And yet she believed with all of her being that Demetri deserved a broken arm for what Robby Keene did. That he was a pussy for crying out in pain. Actions didn’t matter to her—only the name branded across the merchandise you wore and the color of your gi at tournaments.

For the first time, the thought makes Hawk seethe.

All this time she’d seemed nothing but tough and fearless, but all she was was a shallow bitch who cared more about rank and status than a damn thing you actually did.

She was always going to hate Sam LaRusso for being rich and popular. She was always going to hate Miyagi Do for its association with LaRusso. But the second Keene bailed? Put on a belt with a cobra on it and showed off his snake-snatching skills?

She couldn’t wait to get on his dick. The filthy slut.

And suddenly Hawk realizes that he hates her, too. He hates so many of the people who are supposed to be his allies. But he can’t afford to think like that. And most of all, he can’t afford to let Demetri see it.

He glowers up at his ex-best-friend, keeping his gaze stony. “And why do you care? You have your posse of Miyagi losers to pal around with. Why do you give a shit what I do? Just go home to your little—”

“I left Miyagi-Do!”

The words come out in a forceful scream that practically knocks Hawk even further into the wall.

The sheer disdain in Demetri’s eyes for the group he had so cozily assimilated into sends Hawk reeling. He’d never—not in this lifetime or the next—expect Demetri to toss the whole lot of them out like garbage.

Demetri breaks into another grin, reveling in Hawk’s stunned silence.

“See, that’s another difference between you and I, Eli. I don’t need some washed-out old man telling me what to believe and how to fight. I can think for myself. And frankly, I got sick of the ‘safety in numbers’ business when it seemed ‘the numbers’ were always the ones who got to pick my enemies for me. And no one—” His eyes burn into Hawk. “No one decides that but me. I hurt who I like when I like, and I’ll fucking gut anyone who gets in my way.”

Hawk exhales slowly, keeping his scowl pulled tight.

“So…what?” Hawk sneers. “You’re going to fight Cobra Kai by yourself now? That’s so fucking stupid.”

“Not all of them. Some of your class are just brainwashed idiots who don’t know what they’re doing.” He sighs, shaking his head. “And you, Eli…well, I think you’ve lost sight of who your true enemy is. I was hoping I could help.”

“You really bounced?” Hawk narrows his eyes, still trying to make sense of everything. “After everything, you…just up and left?”

It can’t be that easy. He knows it wouldn’t be in Cobra Kai.

“Yeah.” Demetri shrugs. “And now I have way more time for important things.”

“I don’t get it.” Hawk’s frown deepens. “Why would you strike off on your own? Did something happen?”

“You happened.”

Short. Simple. Concise.

Completely baffling.

Not that that was anything new today.

Maybe it’s Hawk’s imagination, but the knife loosens a little.

“Don’t you get it?” For the first time all night, something like genuine anguish prods through Demetri’s voice. “I meant what I said. I never gave a rat’s ass about the karate wars, or the stupid dojo feuds. All I ever wanted was to be worth your fucking time again.”

All Hawk can do is stare.

It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes any fucking sense.

“And sure,” Demetri concedes after a moment. “At first, I wanted to do right by Mr. LaRusso. By Sam. They were the ones who taught me. Toughened me up into something worthwhile. Worked with all the shit you thought was a lost cause. But it was always a means to an end to stay relevant to you. Then after what happened with Moon, I genuinely thought the Miyagi-Do philosophy would help you. But I learned soon enough that you were in too deep for appealing to the Old Eli to work. No, I had to speak to you in your own language.”

He licks his lips as the knife starts to slide up Hawk’s neck again, dancing over the bottom of his chin and onto the plump skin of his lips.

“Aggression. Violence. Dominance.” He chuckles. “Wasn’t my go-to, but if it got your attention, I could make it work. And I guess I did, huh? I riled you up enough that you couldn’t leave me alone.”

“You wanted to piss me off?”

“If that’s what it took to keep you coming back for more.” And there it is again—that wide, sadistic grin that feels so brutally wrong. “You can leave me, Eli. You can disown me. You can shit on everything we had and make my life a living hell. But you can’t bring yourself to just ignore me. Because you’re so weak that you can’t bear to refuse the bait when I press your buttons. Because as much as you claim to hate me, you can’t move on from me.”

“And now you ditch your team to…what? Fight me on your own?” Hawk matches Demetri’s grin with one of his own. “I’d wreck you. And deep down, you know it.”

“So presumptuous.” Demetri shakes his head, tutting. “Frankly, I came here tonight because I’m sick of fighting you.”

“Says the one with a knife to my throat.”

“That’s because you don’t fucking listen without me having to resort to extreme measures,” Demetri hisses. “I think we’re a lot closer to being on the same page than you think. And maybe if you dropped this whole tribalism bullshit, you’d see that.”

So Demetri wants a truce. Hawk should have known.

He’s not surprised. But the way they arrived here?

Now that’s a twist.

It’s still an insane concept. Like he’s supposed to let his greatest enemy off the hook. Let Demetri get away with all the ways he’s undermined him and humiliated him and put the Old Eli—the weak, pathetic nerd Eli—on blast for all the world to see.

But if Demetri really left Miyagi Do…

Hawk finds himself wondering how much of his rage against the Miyagi Dos is his own, and how much is Sensei Kreese’s. And if Demetri’s truly deserted “the enemy,” does Hawk still have to hate him?

Does he even want to?

Demetri isn’t that pathetic, sniveling dweeb anymore. He’s crushed his old self as brutally as Hawk has.

Because the Demetri Hawk has known all his life could scarcely bring himself to cook with sharp knives, let alone use one to threaten another human being’s life.

Or take one.

But despite everything, something still doesn’t add up.

“I heard about your little rousing speech,” Hawk says. “About how important it was for Miyagi Do and Eagle Fang to unite against the ‘biggest assholes in the Valley.’ And now you’ve abandoned both of them. Was that all just a load of crap, then?”

Demetri is unfazed.

“Call me naïve, but I thought if Miguel and I were on the same team, you’d finally see some damn sense. You’d hurt me, sure. I’ve known that for a while. But I never thought you’d touch the kid you went on a vengeance quest for.” He shrugs. “Color me surprised when you wrote him off as just another enemy.”

“I told you.” Hawk works his fingers against the wall again, uneasiness trickling over his skin. “Miguel chose his side.”

“Be that as it may. I figured if you were so far gone that you were ready to wail on literally every person you used to be friends with, I needed to adjust my strategy.”

“For what?”

“For getting through to you. For getting you to tell the truth.”

And Hawk doesn’t want to think for too long about what truth Demetri has in mind.

“So you pull out a fucking knife.”

“Mhm.” Demetri snickers. “That’s how you communicate, yeah? Threats and intimidation?”

Hawk clenches his jaw. “I’m not scared of you.”

“Is that so.” The arm suddenly lifts from squeezing Hawk’s chest, long fingers seizing his wrist. He’s too surprised to pry them away.

He really should be expecting this kind of insane bullshit by now.

“Your pulse is going haywire, Eli,” Demetri murmurs. “Either you’re a liar, or something else has you energized. I wonder what that could be?”

It’s then Hawk’s mind fully catches up to its surroundings.

He rips his wrist away, pivoting away from the knife and sending a knee into Demetri’s ribs. The knife tip slices his cheek, but so be it. He’s endured worse.

Demetri gasps, stumbling back. Hawk makes a grab for the knife.

The taller boy is still too quick. He holds the weapon out of reach, using his other arm to thrust Hawk’s body back.

Before Demetri can do anything else, Hawk squats down and sweeps his leg. With a grunt, his opponent stumbles to the floor.

Something seizes Hawk’s ankles as he stands. He cries out as he’s yanked backward with surprising force, landing on the floor next to Demetri.

Hawk scrambles for the bed, trying to writhe out of Demetri’s grip and hoist himself up by the covers.

It’ll be over when I have the high ground.

What a stupid reference to think about.

It reminds him of the kind of game he and Demetri might have once played. Whoever made it onto the bed would get to be Obi-Wan, and whoever stayed on the floor would have to be Anakin, drowning in lava.

The idea leaves him feeling strange.

Demetri doesn’t let go, snarling like a hyena as he tries to tug Hawk back. The knife teases his skin, an imminent threat if he makes any moves too sudden.

He’d kick the annoying asshole away from him, but he doesn’t want the sole of his foot sliced open. If he can’t walk, he can’t fight.

Suddenly, Demetri cries out, grip loosening. In Hawk’s struggles, he must’ve rammed into a sensitive spot. He yanks himself free, scrambling onto the bed and frantically trying to plan his next move.

He realizes his mistake a half-second too late.

Demetri, gleefully bluffing, rises to his full height. Smirking, he pounces like a jaguar.

He lands heavily on Hawk’s stomach, slamming him against the bed. The back of his head smacks against the headboard, filling his vision with stars.

He barely has time to let out a pained gasp before Demetri’s knees are digging into his quadriceps, pinning him again. Growling, he aims a punch at Demetri’s throat.

His fist meets its target, pulling a strangled gasp. Hawk clasps his arms around Demetri’s torso, trying to thrust him off the bed.

For a moment they struggle, yanking and shoving wildly in an attempt to gain an advantage. Then Hawk feels long arms wrap around his back, bony fingers clutching at his throat.

The tingling pain of blade against skin, and Hawk realizes Demetri kept hold of his knife.

Whenever I think he’s finally going to drop that damned thing…

The knife jabs into him, strengthening its grip until he’s pressed flat on his back. At last Demetri loosens his grip, sizing up his victim with a satisfied beam.

Hawk squirms, bed creaking as he does his best to jostle Demetri off. The other boy holds fast, gazing down at him with a pitying look.

The blade digs in again, and Hawk’s struggles weaken.

“Come now. How many times do we have to go over this?”

“Let. Me. Go.”

“I don’t believe I was finished.”

Demetri tilts his head to the side, breaking into another crazed grin that sends dread trickling straight down to Hawk’s bones.

“Shut up Demetri.”

“I see you staring at me. All this time, and all these girls you tried so hard to fuck, and everything always comes back to your stupid middle school infatuation.”

“SHUT UP!”

Hawk squeezes his eyes shut, trying to bleach Demetri’s cold, smug expression from his mind.

“Right after you had your Bar Mitzvah, you asked me to kiss you. You figured since I already had mine, we were both adults now. And adults do grown-up things like kissing.”

“STOP IT!”

And suddenly Hawk is screaming at the top of his lungs because he knows where this is going. Because they were just stupid kids, and that can’t mean anything.

“I said of course I would, because I’d always liked you, Eli.” Demetri’s voice only grows louder—more insistent. “And I go in to give you a peck, and you grab my arms and stick your entire tongue in my mouth.”

“Shut the fuck up, Demetri!”

He feels something wet dribbling down his face, and wonders if the cut on his cheek got stretched wider in his and Demetri’s scuffle. It’s certainly stinging enough for it.

Unless…

Hawk wishes he could dissolve.

“I told you I’d kiss you a thousand more times if you wanted.” Demetri’s voice has grown sharper than his blade. “And I would have. And for a long while, I thought there might be the most infinitesimal possibility that you felt something, too. Now I know I was right.”

He laughs, the sound acrid and bitter and full of flint.

“Because even after everything, you’re still obsessed with me. You watch me across the lunchroom and pretend you’re ‘monitoring the enemy,’ but I know you miss me. You miss when I made you laugh, and you miss when I talked to people so you didn’t have to. You chase me around in every battle, but when it comes right down to it, you can’t hurt me in any significant way until you’re bullied into it. You pick fights with me so you can put your hands all over my body and not have anyone look at you askance for it.”

“FUCK YOU!”

Maybe if he screams loud enough, Demetri won’t pay too much attention to the wet trails smearing the blood from his cuts.

Caustic breath is hovering inches above Hawk, misting onto his lips. Still, he refuses to open his eyes.

“It must be exhausting, you know,” Demetri whispers. “Living your life in denial like that. Wearing your entire personality like some cheap Halloween costume and convincing yourself that’s a fulfilling existence. Don’t you want to be free?”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Hawk growls. “I do whatever I like. It’s not my fault you don’t like who I really am.”

“Who you really are, hmmm?” Demetri’s lips brush his earlobe, voice a barely-audible murmur. “So tell me the truth then, Eli. Do you still want me?”

The bluntness of the question almost blows a hole in his composure.

“Of course I don’t.”

“Stop fucking lying!”

All at once, Demetri’s voice is a deafening, furious scream again. The knife slices Hawk’s jaw.

Not enough to do any real harm, but enough to really hurt. Hawk freezes, held prisoner by the burst of sharp, sudden pain.

“It’s always lies, lies, lies with you,” Demetri snarls. “Fake name. Fake hair color. Fake personality. Fake interests. Fake friends who only kiss the ground you walk on because they’ve never seen you at your weakest. Fake relationships with girls you barely let know you—to the point you think they’d leave you for liking to code. And the absolute drivel you feed yourself that this goddamn farce is what you want to live in forever. You think you’re starring in some martial arts epic, and you’re so wrapped up in your stupid method acting that you never want to step offscreen. Like everyone’s on the edge of their seat about your pitiful life like it’s the fucking Truman Show. And at the end of the day? You’re still too much of a pussy to tell me the truth.”

Hawk’s skin tingles, shivers rippling through him. If his heart was pounding before, it’s thundering now.

Somehow it doesn’t feel like fear. He’s used to this new version of Demetri enough not to cower from him.

No, it’s something far worse. And Demetri knows it.

“You can’t hide from me.” The other boy’s tone drips with haughtiness, savoring the ability to confirm Hawk’s worst fears. “I see right through your bullshit. I always have. So I’ll ask you one more time. Do you want me?”

The knife slides down to Hawk’s throat again, pressing firmly.

“Lie and I’ll kill you.”

He’s probably bluffing. Maybe. Surely.

Perhaps it doesn’t matter anymore. Sprawled out on his childhood bed, underneath the only other person he frequently shared it with.

The person he used to watch sleep, wondering wistfully if the freak with the lip scar ever made it into his best friend’s dreams.

He opens his eyes and finally meets Demetri’s gaze, in all of its searing, insurmountable beauty.

“Yeah.”

He breathes it out quiet and fragile—a soft promise. A rare moment of openness that he lets free of his unbreakable shell.

Demetri drops the knife. It falls behind the bed, thumping onto the carpet below.

He swoops down, seizing Hawk’s neck and yanking him up. When their mouths meet, Hawk is nearly thrown back with the force of it.

Demetri kisses like a starved animal, lapping and nipping in a crazed frenzy. The weight of his muscle-toned body is crushing, locking Hawk firmly against the mattress.

He tastes like blood and cold steel and cruelty. Hawk shudders.

This time, he’s certain it isn’t fear. It’s a rush he only thought he could get from smashing his fists against plastic or skin, or feeling another person’s body go limp and lifeless underneath his.

And it’s ironic. The more Demetri tries to devour Hawk, the more Hawk wants to let it happen.

There’s an odd satisfaction to it, he thinks. Being completely at someone else’s mercy.

And Demetri isn’t fighting with any.

***

OKAY, time for some #authorrants because I feel like some of the choices I made in this fic are. Controversial, to say the least. Lmao.

So something that has bugged the crap out of me for a while now is people in this fandom acting like there is any world where Demetri would choose Robby over Miguel. I remember after S3 dropped, there was a lot of "dId tHeY fOrGeT tHe dEmEtRi-rObBy FrIeNdShIp" type sentiment floating around irt why Demetri didn't stay in contact with Robby the way Sam and the LaRussos did. Maybe it's because, I don't know, Robby threw the guy Demetri never actually stopped being close friends with over a balcony and almost killed him???

Like. Not that these showrunners don't ever forget things, but this absolutely is not one of them. Robby paralyzing Miguel is a BEYOND valid reason to sever ties with him, especially when you were just casual dojo bros for a couple months tops. When push came to shove, Demetri pretty unequivocally CHOSE MIGUEL. He brought him a comic book in the hospital! He was thrilled to see him back at school and picked up their friendship right where it left off! He DOES NOT VISIBLY FORGIVE ROBBY UNTIL MIGUEL DOES! Idk idk it just really riles me when people do not take Demetri and Miguel's friendship into account when discussing the Demetri-Robby relationship and why they stopped being friends when they did. Tbh I don't think it's that hot of a take to assume Demetri would have more loyalty to the guy who befriended him when he was a nobody and proceeded to be one of his closest ride-or-die friends for a whole-ass year over the guy he was casual buds with because they happened to share a karate instructor -_____- I could go on about this for several more paragraphs, but that's a rant for another day.

(As far as the LaRussos go, they were all closer to Robby and were basically his adoptive family, which is why they--particularly Sam--were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and say the Miguel thing was an accident. Demetri didn't know Robby well enough to make that call, and had no actual proof it WAS an accident except for maybe Sam's word.)

Some other things to ramble about:

I remember in some interview a while back (I think with Martin Kove?) someone asked about Hawk and Marty or whoever was being interviewed said he was "on his way to being a serial killer" or smth. And Jacob's talked a little bit about the kind of escalating delinquent shit Hawk would get up to if he was never redeemed, etc. So going with that: Bold of y'all to assume the kid simping for Hawk since episode 1 wouldn't renounce his morals and join him on the path to villainy. Sorry but I truly believe Demetri's horniness for Hawk can and would win out over any ethical qualms in the end. Also Demetri is horny for violence and evil this is canon otherwise he would in fact not have simped for S3 Hawk so PAINFULLY BADLY god bless

Also this was partly inspired by those post-S3 jokes that were like "lol what happened to Brucks??? Did Hawk kill him???"...well, what if he did, tho? O_____O

Disclaimer that I promise I do not endorse the Tory slut-shaming!!! Tbh I didn't really wanna write it, but...I think given the circumstances, Hawk WOULD be pretty furious at her for getting chummy with Robby and "betraying" Miguel. And unfortunately, since he's a teenage boy with (canonical!) misogynistic tendencies...I do think that would most likely come across as slut-shaming D: But y'all have brains y'all know I don't condone everything I write about aknhdksuyhf (Murder is probably not something you should try at home either btw)

Hopefully I didn't make Hawk too weaksauce in this ^^; My excuses are a) I suck at writing fight scenes and tend to just want to get to the psychosexual dialogue and knife-teasing, so. If I rushed anything to get there I apologize. b) Going by the school fight, Hawk is indeed thrown off when Demetri takes the offensive (especially in a super dramatic kind of way) and his confused pause is in fact enough time for Demetri to get an advantage and c) The man is thrown off his game!!! Thrown off his groove, even!!! His sissy pussy nerd ex-friend shows up acting like a disturbed maniac and he is so O_____o about it that his moves are off!!! He's sucking a little but it's not his fault 💔It's Demetri's for subverting expectations 💔

I also feel like if Demetri started McFucking Losing It and was generally less grounded in the physical and rational world, physical pain wouldn't register quite as much. Like he's in his head enough now that he's kinda lost his grip on reality and things happening in the physical world don't seem as relevant or immediate, if that makes any sense? Also idk. Maybe after the arm break his pain tolerance just went up :O Anyways that's why he recovers pretty fast when Hawk DOES land a hit. Demetri is nuts now 💙

I will die on my hill that Demetri like. Really REALLY isn't as morally upstanding as people like to think XD Like I say this with love but from the top he's been a self-interested little shit who just happens to be extremely loyal to the very small handful of people he actually likes. My dudes, he didn't join Miyagi Do because he liked their philosophy better--he joined because they were less on board with punching him in particular in the face XD This dude saw Cobra Kai being fucks and playing dirty at the AVT and he STILL up and says "I wanna come back because I like the 'safety in numbers' aspect of joining a gang" XD I always got the vibe the "well at least I'm not an asshole LIKE YOU" he throws at Eli later is more because he likes to feel self-righteous. I say all of this as his biggest fan btw. I think more people should embrace the self-interested king he is and write about him and Eli being absolute dicks together instead of to each other 💖

I guess that's what I'm here for!!!

Anyways I think Demetri and Eli have the same potential to be absolutely horrific people, and I think we're all very lucky that Demetri was too lazy to challenge his comfort zone and stick with Cobra Kai XD We're very fortunate he happened to end up using his speed and his brains to help his friends who happened to be on the Good Guy Side rather than his friends who happened to be on the Bad Guy Side.

I also think people put WAY too much stock in Demetri's ability to staunchly stick with the good guys and have enough of a moral backbone to just keep opposing Eli's douchebaggery indefinitely. My mans is NOT that much of a saint, trust. From how quickly he forgave Eli for a HUGE number of atrocities, he seemed to be like. Waiting on his ass for Eli to come back to him. And if Eli never did???

I mean. Bruh. Someone you've been deeply in love with for years throws you out like last night's trash and just progressively starts being more and more awful to you??? You think it's feasible for my boy Demetri to stay strong and sane and reasonable forever, and just keep on fighting the good fight??? HELL NO. This dude is either a) quitting karate and moving schools so he doesn't have to deal with constantly being pummeled by the dude he's in love with or b) going completely fucking insane from the cognitive dissonance of being in love with a dude who constantly beats his ass.

Listen. I have been in love. If my friend who I was in love with turned evil and joined an evil karate school and started wailing on me all the time, I would either pull an Aisha and haul ass out of there or I would simply lose my mind and become evil. Go full Jinx from Arcane. Sorry if you're a hater who doesn't think Demetri Alexopoulos has it in him to go apeshit, but you're wrong and also boring. The funny kooky comic relief guys are always one thread away from losing their shit because everyone assumes because they're funny and kooky they have no depth and no end to their bullshit tolerance. I would know because I am one of these Guys in real life. Put some respecc on my boy's name and also give him another knife 🔪

For anyone looking at me askance like "Demetri doesn't have it in him to kill!" Yes he does. I'm sending him over to your house to stab you right now 🩵

No fr tho, like there was MURDER in this man's eyes when Kyler was bullying Eli in the library. There was MURDER in this man's eyes fighting Robby at the AVT in S4. I have full confidence that if he could get away with stabbing his enemies, he would. So would Eli but I feel like this is a less contested opinion.

Also this is interesting so it's something I might go into detail about in another post, but one thing I noticed while kinda brainstorming how Demetri would snap is that Demetri is loyal to people, while Eli is loyal to concepts and ideas.

Demetri I don't think is actually that married to or slavish about MD principles tbh. Demetri isn't really averse to violence conceptually (even back in S1 it's only ever about him disliking BEING hit, not disliking hitting people!!) and doesn't actually do the defense-only thing that often. Several times we see him instigate with Hawk, or help Sam instigate with CK in general. The times we see him stick his neck out to really help Miyagi Do, he seems like he's doing so more out of loyalty to his friends (namely Sam, Chris, and Nate--also Miguel irt the dojo team-up at the end of S3) than loyalty to Miyagi Do as a dojo.

Eli, meanwhile, is way more loyal to concepts he puts a lot of stock in than the people in his life who challenge this. He sees Cobra Kai as this almighty saving grace that is for LIFE, and he doesn't think twice about ditching Demetri and Miguel when they turn their backs on it. He stays in this dojo even as his friends leave and it fills up with people he hates, and his sensei dismisses and ignores his concerns. Because this dojo saved him from his horrible, bullied life, and now he feels like he owes everything to the Cobra Kai name, despite who's actually behind the name. Also why I think Demetri uses "my karate dojo needs your help!" as the selling point to get Eli to join MD in S4. HIS motivation is probably much more that he just wants him and Eli to stay together, but he knows Eli values dojo loyalty above everything, so Dem kinda makes it more about that than friendship.

Anyways! That's all for now! The whole fic should be up on my AO3 sometime in December :3

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pttwice · 5 months

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little!jeongyeon being all excited and happy because the unnies gave her a new dino and pooh stuffie please!

hi anon! i swear yall know the way to my heart & you're living in my brain at this point

stuffies

|| little!jeongyeon, cg!twice ||

As one of the members who regresses the least, it was a big day for Jeongyeon. All she wanted to do was be with her unnies to color and watch TV and cuddle. Jeongyeon woke up smaller than she usually would have liked, but it was okay. Her unnies would take good care of her.

When she looked around the whole dorm finding no one though, she broke down. She wasn't sure how to get a hold of her unnies so she spent the first hour she was awake crying and searching the dorm over and over again.

After an hour of crying, Jeongyeon finally ran out of tears. She sat on the couch very hungry and very lonely as she stared at the front door, willing someone to walk in and pay attention to her.

Jeongyeon stared at the door for a while, only small sniffles heard throughout the dorm every few minutes. When she was finally about to fall asleep from how much crying she'd done earlier, she heard the tell-tale beep of the keypad.

Jumping up from the couch, Jeongyeon rushed to the door. As the door slowly opened to reveal Mina in her practice clothes, Jeongyeon didn't hesitate to throw her arms around the girl. Mina jumped a little but wrapped her arms around Jeongyeon's waist.

"Woke up 'nd everyone was gone." Jeongyeon managed to choke out. A few big tears ran down her cheeks when she pulled away from Mina.

"I'm sorry, Jeongie. We had to get to early schedules, but I promise that everyone will be back soon. Do you want me to make you something to eat?" Mina kissed Jeongyeon's forehead and smiled when the little vigorously shook her head.

Jeongyeon held her arms up for Mina to carry her, but her unnie quickly apologized. "I'm not strong enough to pick you up, peanut, but if you want you can sit on my lap while you eat breakfast."

She really wanted to be held, but if all Mina could offer was her lap to sit on, then Jeongyeon was okay with that for now. She walked into the kitchen behind Mina, holding onto the sleeve of her shirt the entire time Mina made her breakfast.

Mina set down a plate of waffles, blueberries, and a little cup of yogurt at the table. She sat down and pulled Jeongyeon into her lap, the little happily eating her food.

While Jeongyeon ate and babbled away about the dream she had last night, Mina texted the rest of the girls. She let them know that Jeongyeon was regressed and she seemed pretty upset that she was all alone when she woke up.

By the time the rest of the girls came home from their schedules, Jeongyeon and Mina were finishing a late lunch. They had colored for a little while and gimbap. Jeongyeon was helping Mina dry the dishes when she heard the keypad beep again. The rest of the unnies were finally home!

"Hyo!" Jeongyeon set the drying towel down beside the sink and ran to Jihyo, tackling her to the couch. Jihyo let out a small laugh and wrapped her arms around the little.

"Hey there, peanut. We're sorry we left you this morning. We didn't even think about you being little. How are you feeling now?" Jihyo carefully pulled herself out of Jeongyeon's tight embrace and sat the little beside her.

Jeongyeon held Jihyo's hand and laid her head down on her unnie's chest. " 'm feelin' better. Ate 'nd colored wif Mina." Jeongyeon smiled and pointed down to the coloring book and stray crayons in front of the TV.

"Jeongie!" Sana sat down on the couch beside the little and gave her a gentle kiss on her cheek. The rest of the girls shuffled in and took their spots on the couch and the floor, just showering the little in love.

"We missed you, Jeongie."

"Do you want to cuddle?"

"Want unnie to help you color?"

She was a little overwhelmed with all the questions, but it was easily overtaken by a warm fuzzy feeling in her tummy. She was so happy that her unnies were back and she could spend the rest of the day with them.

"Since you were so brave for us, do you want to open a present?" Nayeon looked up at the little from her spot on the floor, chuckling when Jeongyeon excitedly yelled a 'yes'.

Chaeyoung and Dahyun got up from the couch and walked over to the front door. They picked up two bags and handed them both to the little. "Here you go, Jeongie. They're from all your unnies."

"I wonder what's inside." Momo said, a small smile on her lips.

Jeongyeon looked up at her unnies, eyebrows furrowed in confusion before she opened the first bag up. Her eyes went wide as she pulled out a brand new triceratops stuffy.

"'ceratops!" Jeongyeon giggled and hugged the dinosaur stuffy close to her chest, taking her time to thank each one of her unnies. She almost forgot about the other bag she was so excited with her dinosaur.

"There's still one more present left, Jeongie." Tzuyu sat the second bag down on Jeongyeon's lap and held onto her dinosaur stuffy while the little opened the second bag.

"Pooh!" Jeongyeon yelled out as soon as she saw inside the bag. She pulled the stuffy out and excitedly held him up. She took her triceratops from Tzuyu and hugged them both, quickly forgetting about how upset she was earlier.

The rest of the day was perfect for Jeongyeon. She usually didn't like having all the attention on her, but today she needed it. All she wanted was a day full of hugs, cuddles, and kisses for her and her new stuffies.

#twice agere #twice fanfic #twice fic #little!jeongyeon #caregiver!sana #sfw #sfw interaction only #sfw agere

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mysticbewitched · 2 months

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Hii Mystic! I am new to your blog and after just a day of going through it (I found you yesterday through the drama), I feel so heard and I resonate deeply with what you say and think. I had new shift?( I don’t how to explain it) when it comes to my mindset, before when I would read other ND blogs, they would always speak about dropping everything, everything is meaningless, blah blah, — it really never helped me, I would feel very anxious/frustrated one moment and extremely un-feeling the next.

But after going through your blog yesterday I felt very seen, and you actually explained things very well for me. And things have changed SO MUCH it’s genuinely so shocking.

Last night I decided to let go completely, I told myself “You are god, everything is and effortless for you, you never need to worry about a thing. You will never experience what you don’t want to experience”

And immediately the morning after, I woke up 04:41 (I wanted to wake up early for school and do my routine, but I always failed at doing so, however the night before after accepting that I was god, I told myself “I will wake up at 5”, and went to sleep, AND I ACTUALLY DID!!).

Now, my school is really far away, but not far enough that I can’t walk to it, but I absolutely HATE walking to school because of the extreme heat. I TELL YOU RIGHT NOW I didn’t even affirm or think about this but my mom woke up and told me “I’m gonna drop you at school today, I have some stuff to do and I’m passing by there.” I was so surprised at how effortless and easy this was to manifest, and I didn’t even think of manifesting it! All I affirmed the previous night was that I would never experience what I didn’t want to experience. And BOOM it happened.

NOT JUST THAT but after school I had to walk back home, I told myself I didn’t want to so I won’t. I called my mom and asked her if she was near school, she said she was done with her errands and she would pick me up so we can drive home!!! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?? And at this point it all felt so normal!

I know this might seem small to others but it means a whole lot to me. I’m gonna work on my mindset and experience the life of my dreams

Thank you so much Mystic, finding you really helped me and I hope you continue with your blog to help others too. I’ll be supporting through and through.

Also, is the podcast okay? I can’t find the link and I really wanna listen to it.

Sorry for the long message, and I appreciate you reading through it!

Hello, love. Welcome.

Ah, it sounds as if my points of view were speaking to your heart and it felt right to you on a deeper, spiritual level. That's beautiful and touching to hear.

I'm so glad that you are able to deeply resonate with how I run things around here.

I felt the very same as you before and I know exactly how that feels. I'm so glad that you found me because you will never have to feel that way again.

I'm proud of you for embracing your inner divine nature and realizing your own power to manifest. Transform your perception of yourself and you will easily create the beautiful reality of your dreams.

I want you to know that you and everyone here has a safe space on my page for you to feel free to express your views and ask me anything that's on your mind.

Thank you so much for your support during these rough times. It truly means the world to me.

The podcast is on hold for right now because I don't feel comfortable about having my voice out there right now for just anyone to hear with everything that's going on. I hope that everyone understands.

I will continue with my page, but I'm most definitely considering taking a very long break from everything to focus on myself and catch my breath.

The only reason I choose to stay and keep up with my posts after all of this is because of my deep love for my followers. I want to be here for them.

Thank you so much your kind words and support.

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jaket-fanatic-gvf · 10 months

Text

You Belong With Me (Part 2)

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Female Reader

Summary: Part 2 of the duology! Read Part 1 here

Warnings: Mentions of sex, otherwise pretty fluffy

A/N: This was later than I said I'd post this (oops), but it's here now! I mildly edited this, but we're just going with it!

Word Count: 5.7k

- - -

You don’t normally dream, but when you do they are extremely vivid. Laying in bed this morning, you can picture the whole thing clearly. Sam laughing. Sam with his arms wrapped around you. Sam’s lips on yours…

Of course, none of it is real. Sam is with Madison and you’re all on your own. Sighing, you reach for your phone to read the time. 9:32 a.m. The football game isn’t until 2:00 today, so you have plenty of time before you need to be in the band hall to pick up your trumpet.

When you get out of bed and walk to the kitchen, your roommate, Andrea, is already at the table studying with a full mug of coffee next to her. She looks up when you shuffle into the room.

“Hey, babe, the coffee just finished so it’s pipin’ hot.”

“Thanks Annie, awful early in the weekend for homework, no?” You query.

“Ya, but I have a big test on Monday and I think tomorrow I’ll be too hungover to think properly,” she sighs.

“Going partying?”

“Uh.. ya,” Annie takes a sip of coffee, “I assumed we’d all be going out tonight. I feel like it’s kinda become a tradition.”

That was true. You, Andrea, Sam, and Daniel had been going out pretty much every Saturday this semester; sometimes joined by others, but sometimes just yourselves. Annie knew about your crush on Sam, and has tried to get you to tell Sammy; but that’s just as likely as Annie telling Danny about her crush on him. Which is to say, not likely at all.

“Okay, ya… so, um… I need to tell you about last night.”

“Oh my god!” Annie exclaimed. “You guys admitted your feelings for one another?”

“What? No,” you frowned, “obviously not. Because one, I’d die from embarrassment if he ever found out. Last night proves that. And two, he has a girlfriend, so he doesn’t have feelings for me.”

Annie gives you a skeptical look. “Danny and I don’t think they’re endgame. We want Sam to be happy, and he’s just not happy with her.”

This causes you to raises an eye brow at her. “Danny and I?” You repeat back to Annie. “We?”

“As, like, friends.” Annie tries to hide the fluster, but is extremely unsuccessful. She clears her throat before doubling back down on you. “What happened last night, Y/N? Don’t change the subject.”

“Right… so… I accidentally called Sam pretty.” You cringe as you admit this outloud to your friend. It doesn’t help when Annie throws her hands in the air and squeals.

“Yes! Finally! What happened? I need all of the details, ‘nd don’t skimp on me. Even the ones you think are insignificant!”

You fill her in on the whole night. She squeals again when you tell her that he called you pretty back, but you make sure to add on that he probably felt obligated to return the compliment. She rolls her eyes and has you continue on. Once you finish, she takes a couple seconds to get her thoughts in order.

“He really needs to break up with Madison. I just really don’t like her.”

Sighing, you can only reply, “Well thats not really up to us.”

“I wonder if he has said anything to Danny,” she ponders and starts looking for her phone. You reply quickly.

“You can’t ask him, Annie! He can’t know about how awkward last night was or he’ll never let me live it down. I think he already kind of knows about my crush on Sam.”

“Y/N,” she deadpans, “you can’t be serious.” When you only reply with a confused look she looks up to the sky almost as if she were praying to God. “I think the only person who doesn’t know about your crush on Sam,” she pauses for dramatic effect, “is Sam. Don’t make that face, Y/N, it’s fine. I think the feelings are mutual.”

“Annie, he has a–” you start, but she cuts you off.

“He has a girlfriend, I know, but like I said before, I don’t think they belong together. Things are changing, I feel it in my bones.” she states matter-of-factly.

“Whatever, I don’t think I have the mental capacity to talk about this any longer.” This back and forth reall has drained you. When you look at the time again, you notice that only about 45 minutes has passed. “I’m gonna go shower and then maybe do some studying too.” Annie waves you goodbye and on the way to your bathroom, you pull out your phone to text Sam.

You: Partying is a go for tonight

You: Annie is studying already so I think she’d kill me if we don’t go

Sam replies instantly.

Sammy: Great! Pregame at our house? I’ll make Dan cook us supper :)

Sammy: You can come over whenever, we’re not going to the game

You are a bit disappointed in that news. Even if you couldn’t sit together, you always sit on the edge of the band, and Sam and Danny try to sit as close to you as they can get so you can still talk to each other.

You: Okey doke, let us know if you need anything before we come over!

Sammy: 👍

Since it’s the weekend, you take your full shower. Afterwards, you feel like a brand new person and decide to continue on with the self care. You paint your nails for the first time in months and decide that you have enough time to start a new book before you have to go. You quickly get sucked in, and when your alarm goes off signalling that it’s time to leave, you briefly debate bringing the book to the football game before you decide against it.

The game actually goes quicker than you thought it would. It’s probably good that Sam didn’t come to the game because Madison is very obviously flirting with a few members of the football team. She doesn’t even stop when she catches you watching her. She just glares at you and seems to amp it up. Honestly, the nerve of her. When the game its over, you practically sprint home. Annie left you a note on the fridge saying that she already went over to the boys’ house and to go over as soon as you’re ready.

You change out of your school shirt and jean shorts, and opt for a denim shirt, a crop top, and your tride-and-true chuck taylors. Right before leaving, you circle back to grab a sweater because it’ll probably be cold once you leave the party.

You text Sam saying that you are on your way over and in true Sam-fashion, he’s waiting for you on his front porch holding the door open for you. He’s wearing a crewneck sweatshirt from your school and short shorts. God, the short shorts. You’re staring at his thighs as you walk up to him and just hoping that he doesn’t notice. When you get closer to him, you meet his eyes, and you think he could definitely tell you were checking him out from the little smirk he wore, so you decide to play it off.

“Isn’t it a bit late in the season for hoochie mama shorts, Samuel?” you scold him without any real intent.

He throws his head back and barks out a single laugh. “Says you! It’s a cute outfit, Y/N, but it’s not going to keep you warm,” he quips back.

The outfit might not, but the blush from his compliment sure will. You try to laugh it off and reply meekly, “I brought a sweater.”

Sam laughs again. “Love, that sweater is so hole-y that’s it’s practically just a clump of yarn, it’s not gonna do shit,” he replies a bit condescendingly, “A for effort though!” Sam ushers you through the door and you can smell whatever it is is that Dan is cooking, and it smells heavenly. Down the hall, you hear Annie’s laugh and soft music playing. Even though this isn’t your house, this place truly does feel like home.

When you walk into the kitchen, there truly is a sight to behold. Annie and Dan are standing only inches away from each other and you can tell right away that they were about to kiss. You just freeze, but Sam bumps into you, and they immediately notice the movement in the corner of the room and practically leap away from one another like they both got burned. It takes everything in you to not jump for joy right there. You can’t stop the shit-eating grin that comes to your face though.

“Oh I’m sorry, we’re not interrupting, are we?” You ask sweetly…Too sweetly.

Annie looks mortified, but fixes you with a glare and replies just as sweetly, “Oh not at all! Wow, Y/N, you look very pretty.” She makes sure to emphasize the word pretty, and you can take the hint. However, she doesn’t stop there. “Doesn’t she, Sammy?”

Obviously, you start to blush, and it deepens when you look at Sam right as he squeaks out, “Yeah, she always does.” He’s looking a bit rosy now too, so now it’s just the 4 of you standing awkwardly in the kitchen, all blushing in various shades like idiots.

Daniel is the one to break the silence, forever the mediator. “So, supper is ready! Can someone grab plates?” Once the tension is broken, you all quickly set off to do different tasks. Danny and Annie bring the food to the table while you grab the plates and silverware. Sam goes off to grab drinks for everyone. The rest of the meal goes off without a hitch, and as soon as you’re all done eating, the boys clear the table and start setting it up for beer pong.

For the next couple hours, the 4 of you just hang out and slowly get more tipsy as you consume more alcohol. Eventually, the same bottle tequila from last night is getting passed around and you’re all just taking swigs. When you guys leave for the frat houses down the road, you are feeling pretty toasted. You and Annie walk hand in hand down the road and the buys follow behind you.

Since you are feeling pretty good at the moment, you lean into Annie and whisper (although not too quietly), “I’m sorry I interrupted your kiss earlier. It would’ve been a good one.”

Annie shushes you and giggles, “Be quiet, they’re right behind us.”

“But I’m whispering!” you exclaim, most definitely not whispering anymore, and Sam chuckles.

The frat house is crowded when you get there, and this time, you let the boys lead so they can make a path through the crowd. You get drinks and suddenly, Annie and Dan are gone. Sam has his hand on your arm so you two don’t lose eachother in the crowd, and you eventually make your way to one of the couches. There is a couple making out on the other end, but you’ve both seen worse things, so it doesn’t stop you from occupying the left over space.

You didn’t recognize the song that was playing, and you you about to tell Sam that you weren’t a big fan of it, but he beat you to it.

“They should let me DJ. My music is way better than this.”

Smiling, you reply. “I agree, although I see why they chose this. It’ll be good to dance to later.”

Sam smirks at you. “Oh, it’s a dancing night? You must be pretty drunk already.” Sam taps the tip of your nose with his beer bottle, and if you had been sober, you probably would have been flustered, but Sam was right. You’re pretty drunk.

“Sammy, we drank like a whole bottle of tequila before we got here and then some. Of course it’s dancing night!” You started to get up, but Sam pulled you back down while laughing. You ended up more in his lap than next to him, and when you try to scootch off of him, he wraps his arm around your waist holding you against him securely. Again, if you were sober, you definitely would have reacted differently, but you just settled into Sam’s lap and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Let me finish my drink first, antsy pants,” he whispers into your hair.

You could have stayed like this forever. Sam smells so good and he’s rubbing his thumb against you. You can also feel his heartbeat and you swear it’s going a bit fast, like he’s nervous. You’d ask him about it if you weren’t so content where you were. Soon enough though, Sam is shaking you from your reverie.

“Come on, love, let’s go dance. I actually know this song!” Sam stands up before you get the chance to move and you’re impressed by how easy it was for him to manuever you around. With Sam holding your hand, you make your way to where the music is the loudest, which is in the basement. You’re happy you put your hair up earlier, because the lower you descend down the stairs, the hotter it becomes.

“I guess your outfit choice was the right call,” Sam yells back to you. The music is so loud now that even though he’s right in front of you, you can barely hear him.

“And so are your hoochie mama shorts!” you tease back.

He gives you a big lopsided smile and replies, “Oh but you like these shorts. I already knew they were going to be a good idea.”

You didn’t quite understand that, but you gave him a shrug back anyways. And once you reached the basement, the conversation didn’t matter anyways because you were sucked into the crowd to dance. It seems like you two have been dancing for hours by the time you’re ready to call it a night. You thought you would’ve run back into Danny and Annie at this point, but you never did. It doesn’t really worry you though, some nights were like this, and you guys would get separated. The boys always made sure to never leave one of you alone though.

Sam is watching you, and without you having to say anything, he knows you’re ready to go. He really is perfect, and you have the mind to tell him so. So you do.

“You’re perfect, Sammy,” you stare up at him. It’s pretty dark in the basement, but there ae colorful lights dancing around the room illuminate his face just enough to show you the confusion there.

“What did you say?” Sam yells back. Suddenly, you feel very sober as the realization hits you of what you just said.

“Nothing!” You shout. “I’m ready to go!” You turn around and make your way for the stairs before he can say anything else. You feel his hand find yours and he pulls you to a stop just long enough for him to move around you so he can lead the way. As soon as you step foot outside the house you feel the chill and gasp.

“No! I forgot my sweater at your house!” you whimper. You wish you still felt more of a buzz. Your houses are only a few blocks away, but it’ll be a chilly couple of blocks.

“It’s okay, Y/N, you can take my sweatshirt.” Sam pulls his crewneck off with ease and when you don’t take it right away he adds, “Seriously, I’m still hot from the basement, it feels really nice out here.”

With that confirmation, you take the sweatshirt from his hands and slip it on. It smells so much like him that you have to resist the urge to hold it to your nose and inhale a deep breath.

“Thanks, Sammy.”

“Of course, love, that’s what friends are for.” He smiles and nudges your shoulder with his arm.

Feeling like you’ve been doused in cold water, you sober up once again. Friends. You feel embarassed as you remember parts of the night. You definitely weren't being a strictly platonic friend tonight, and if Madison had seen you, she could have been justifyingly pissed. What had gotten into you tonight? What had gotten into Sam? Thinking back on it, the flirting definitely hadn’t been one-sided. If anything, Sam had been progressing it. As much as you didn’t like his girlfriend, you still respect her enough as a person to not want to be a homewrecker.

The two of you start walking back in silence, but it’s a content one. There is a little park on this block and Sam grabs your arm to redirect you down the path through the park instead of taking the stright way home. When you come up to the first bench he plops down unceremoniously and looks up at the stars.

You sit down on the other side, hugging yourself for warmth, and do the same thing. Since you’re in the city you really can’t see any stars, but you like to pretend you can anyways. The breeze is light tonight, but you can feel it on the backside of your legs through the wire bench and begin to shiver.

“Are you still cold?” Sam rolled his head to the side to look at you.

“A bit, but I’m fine.” you chatter back.

He looks unamused and opens his arm up, giving you the opportunity to tuck into him for warmth. You wish so badly that you could, but you know it wouldn’t be right to Madison.

“Sam… that’s probably not a good idea. I don’t want Maddie to hate me more than she already does.” He tries to reply, but you keep going. “No, Sam. I’m so sorry for being so flirty with you today; the alcohol really got on top of me I guess.”

He just looks at you for a couple of seconds before saying, almost hesitantly, “Were you only flirting with me because of the alcohol?”

Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

You reply as quickly as you can, “Yeah, Sam. I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have been. Although you were flirting right back, so you must have been feeling it too.”

Sam huffs out a laugh without any humour in it. “Yeah, something like that.”

You wish you could get rid of the awkward tension. What can you say though? ‘Break up with your girlfriend, Sam! I’m in love with you!’ Ya, that wouldn’t go over well. Suddenly, the thought of how to ease the tension rushes to you.

“Oh! Oh my god, what is going on between Andrea and Daniel?!”

It’s like a switch has been flipped and Sam sits up quickly with a huge grin on his face.

“He’s been dying to kiss her for months and I think we ruined it for him. He’s got it bad for her, but don’t tell him I told you that.”

You make the motion of zipping your lips and throwing out the key. “Okay, as long as you don’t tell Annie that I’m telling you about her massive crush on him. This is perfect! I think they’d be great together; I’m always telling her that.” You leave out the part where she always replies saying that you and Sam would be perfect together as well.

“That’s a deal!” Sam grabs your leg just above your knee and gasps, “I wonder if they left us to go kiss somewhere. What if they are already back home? If they’re fucking in my house I’m coming over and sleeping on your couch.”

You cackle and Sam continues on with his theories. He looks more at peace now than he has in weeks. His smile is huge, and you can’t help but think to yourself how easy it would be to be with him. The two of you just click; there isn’t a better way to explain it. You know in your heart that he is the person for you, you’ve known it for years. And who knows, maybe someday he will think so too, but today is not that day.

“Okay Sammy, can we keep walking? I’m getting tired.”

He smiles sweetly at you, “Of course, love.”

The rest of the walk back home was filled with your normal laughter and jokes. It felt good to be back to normal with Sam. When you got closer to your houses, you could see the lights turned on at Sam’s place. He noticed at the same time as you and stopped walking.

“Yeah, we definitely had all of the lights turned off before we left.” He looks down at you with an amused grin. “Right?”

You giggle, nod your head, and continue to walk. “I’m going to come get my sweater.”

“You just want to spy on them!” Sam calls after you which just makes you giggle more.

“Maybe!” you sing back and bound up the stairs of his porch. You try to peer in the window while Sam is fishing his keys out, but when he turns the handle of his front door, it’s already unlocked. He quickly shushes you before opening the door and immediately closes it again.

At the swiftness of it all, you just stand there startled. Sam turns to you and whispers, “They are definitely fucking.”

“What? How do you even know? Oh my god, are they in the living room?”

Sam is blushing and replies while locking the door, “No, thank god… but Annie’s panties are.”

You couldn’t stop the bark of laughter if you tried. Instead of trying to shush you again, Sam just picks you up and carries you off the porch.

“Sammy, put me down!” you laugh, and he doesn’t concede until you’re across the street. You get to your door, unlock it, and let Sam inside.

“I fucking called it!” Sam says giddily. “I’m gonna give Daniel so much shit for this,” he grins lopsidedly and its adorable.

“Well, I’m happy someone is getting lucky tonight,” you reply while continuing to laugh. “I’ll grab you a pillow and some blankets.” You run into your room and grab a pillow off your bed and 2 of your extra blankets. When you return to your living room Sam is already laying on the couch with his eyes closed. You crouch by him and your knees pop in the process, but his eyes remain closed. He’s always been quick to sleep, but you think this has to be a new record.

“Sammy,” you whisper, but he still doesn’t wake up. His hair is falling in his face and you reach to move it away, but stop midway remembering that you shouldn’t be too touchy with him. It’s perfectly friendly to move someone’s hair out of their face though, right? You think if it were Danny or Annie sleeping on your couch here instead of Sam. You would move their hair out of the way for them. With that, you tuck the lock behind Sam’s ear and he sighs contently in his sleep.

You leave the pillow on the ground next to him and lays the blankets over him. Right before you turn to leave, you run your hand over his hair one more time. Someday, you think. Someday maybe he’ll see that you belong together.

- - -

When you wake up the next day, Sam is already gone. You know he has to work on Sundays, but you thought he’d stay for breakfast. However, when you look at the clock and see that it’s just about noon, you are quick to forgive him. Annie doesn’t come back until later that afternoon which gives almost just enough time to finish your homework. She walks in the room wearing one of Danny’s shirts and you practically scream.

She rolls her eyes at you, but you still catch her subdued grin and the blush creeping up her cheeks.

“Oh, shut up, Y/N. I know for a fact that Sam slept here last night too, so don’t be too cocky. And you’re still wearing his sweatshirt!”

“Ya, but only because he walked into his house to see your underwear on his living room floor!” you scoff back at her, then quickly add, “As they should be, by the way, I’m so happy for you!”

She smiles a knowing smile, for what you have no clue, and replies, “I’m sure your panties didn’t end up in the right place either.”

“What?” you state simply. “I can assure you that they did.”

Annie seems taken back by this statement a bit and takes a moment to reply. “Wait… did you guys not have sex last night?”

“Oh my god, Andrea, no. I don’t like Madison as much, if not more, than anyone else here, but I wouldn’t do that to her.”

Annie looks even more taken back by this statement and just asks blandly, “What?”

“I know I don’t like Maddie, but I would never be a homewrecker. I can’t believe you would think that I would,” you frown and then remember all of the flirting from last night. “Actually, you know, that’s kind of justified. I was so flirty with him yesterday that I actually apologised to him for it.”

“Babe, wait, hold on,” she’s talking over you slightly as you try to explain. “He didn’t tell you?”

That question makes you stop your rambling. “Who didn’t tell me what?”

“Sam?” Annie starts and waits to see if you know where she is going with the statement, but you don’t have a clue. She huffs out a breath.

“Babe, Sam broke up with Madison yesterday.”

The world buzzes for a second and you think you heard her wrong.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Sam broke up with Maddie, Y/N. He told Danny and I yesterday while you were at the game. He was supposed to tell you last night.”

There are so many thoughts running around your head at this moment that you can’t bring yourself to focus on any of them. A bit of time must have passed because Annie snaps her fingers in your face to bring you back to the present.

“Did he really not tell you? We even told him that you’d be ecstatic with the news.”

“Wait, what do you mean by that?”

“Um…” Andrea cringes a bit and rushes out, “Okay, you can’t be mad because we knew it would work out in your favor, but Danny and I told Sam that you like him.”

“What!” you yell, but she continues on.

“And he was so happy, because he really likes you. I know this for a fact because he told me, Y/N. Listen to me.” Annie grabs your shoulders and looks into your eyes, which are still blown wide from everything that she has just admitted to you.

“Sam likes you, Y/N. I think he needs to explain it to you himself, so I won’t say anything else, but please just believe me.” She stares at you until you nod your head. Then she finally lets you go and sits down next to you.

“I don’t understand why he didn’t tell you. He was so confident when we left for the party. The flirting was going so well.”

As soon as she mentions the flirting you understand. “I told him I was only flirting because of the alcohol.”

“What?”

“I apologized for flirting with him last night and blamed it on having too much to drink. He even asked me to clarify and I said that I wouldn’t have flirted with him if I wasn’t drunk.”

She covers her face with her hands and when she speaks again its muffled. “Oh my god you two are impossible.” She drops her hands and turns to face you. “You know, Danny and I have liked each other for a lot less time and we got it figured out by ourselves.”

You just roll your eyes.

“You need to go over there right now, babe.”

“What? To Sam’s house? He’s at work.”

“No he isn’t. I left when he got back, they were overstaffed so they sent him home.”

She stands back up and grabs your hands to pull you up too.

“Go, Y/N! I can’t stand this anymore.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” You push Annie back down to the couch and she laughs. Your heart is racing, but she’s right. You can’t stand this anymore. Rushing to your room to find your shoes, you pull out your phone to text Sam.

You: I’m coming over.

When you pass the mirror by the door you give yourself a quick runover. There are wisps of hair falling out of the bun you slept in and there is still a bit of mascara under your eyes.

“Shit.” you say to yourself.

Annie hears you though and states, “Oh stop, he always thinks your pretty. Plus, I can already see him waiting by the door for you. If that doesn’t prove to you right there that he likes you, nothing ever will.”

“Shit, okay.” Your heart is pounding. By the time you cross the road you’re surprised it hasn’t fallen out of your chest. The panic must be evident on your face because when you walk up to Sam he looks concerned.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? What happened?”

How do you start this conversation. To ground yourself, you stare at Sam and focus on his appearance. His hair is pulled back today in a low bun and he is wearing clothes that don’t match at all. You’d think that it would look bad, but he can really pull off outfits like this. Looking back at his face, you can tell that he trimmed his facial hair this morning too. He's frowning slightly and his honey brown eyes are filled with concern.

“Y/N? What hap–”

“I like you,” you blurt out. Wow, okay. Smoothe.

Admitting this to Sam is like going back to your first middle school crush. Standing on the playground with your hair in pigtails and braces freshly on your teeth. It was the most nerve-wracking moment of your life at that point in time. With so many butterflies in your stomach that it felt like you were going to puke them out. This moment with Sam is exactly like that, although hopefully this boy won’t be grossed out and state with disgust “girls have cooties.” All you can do is take a deep breath and continue on.

“Sam, I have liked you pretty much ever since the day we met, but I thought you’d never feel the same way about me, so I tried to hide that fact. But here’s the thing, I’m sick of pretending like you’re not my absolute favorite person in the world, and I’m tired of hiding my feelings away.

I feel like I understand you in a way that no else could ever know. I’ve always been in your corner and I’m pretty sure I always will be. I love the way I feel when I’m with you, and I love knowing everything about you. I know your favorite songs, your favorite places to stargaze, your love for your family, your opinions on which types of lettuce taste best, and I know all of your hopes and dreams. And I think I know where you belong, Sam.”

At this point, you meet Sam’s eyes. They are blown wide open and his mouth is a little agape. However, you can see a bit of awe in his eyes which gives you the courage to continue. You look down at your hands and fiddle with your rings because you can't bear the thought of looking into his eyes if he rejects you.

“Sam, you belong with me. I’m really hoping you feel the same way, otherwise please just forget I said any–”

“Can I kiss you?”

Your eyes shoot back up to Sam’s and you see that they are still filled with awe, but also warmth and love and hope.

“Yes,” you whisper.

Sam’s mouth closes in on yours in an instant and the rest of the world melts away. His hands cup the side of your face, and when he starts to pull back you grab the sides of his sweater and hold him closer to you. His tongue ventures into your mouth, deepening the kiss, and you swear nothing has felt more perfect in your life.

When you finally break apart, both of your lips are a bit swollen and you’re out of breath. Sam is still holding your face and he rubs one of his thumbs over your cheekbone.

With foreheads pressed together Sam whispers to you, “I have wanted to do that since I first saw you, Y/N. I didn’t think you saw me the same way.”

Giggling, you reply, “Are you kidding? I practically have hearts for eyes when I look at you, Sam. I never even got a hint that you might like me back though.”

“I didn’t want to scare you away. You’re my best friend, Y/N. I was content to have you in my life anyway I could. I just wish we could have figured this out years ago.” He chuckles against your lips as he kisses you sweetly once again.

Across the road you hear your door open. “Get a room!” Annie yells and then cackles and starts walking across the road. Right then, Dan walks out his front door.

“Annie!” He scolds. “We were going to give them space!”

She waves her hands in a dismissing motion as she bounds up the steps of the porch and crashes into Danny’s arms. He puts one over her shoulder and places a kiss on the top of her head.

“Oh please, if they wanted personal space they shouldn’t have been making out on the front porch.”

Sam moves behind you while she talks and wraps his arms around your stomach, resting his chin on your shoulder in the process. Hoping this is a new normal, you tilt your head to the side to nestle up against Sam’s. This time when you breathe in his cologne, you take the full opportunity to bask in it.

He grabs the material of the sweatshirt you have on and you can feel his smile take place on your shoulder. "You look cute in my clothes."

"I'm glad you think so because I'm going to keep this," you tease and he lets out a single breathy laugh.

“So,” Annie interrupts and shoots you both a wide smile before asking, “Double date tonight?”

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #sam kiszka #gvf fanfiction #gvf #gvf fic #sammy kiszka #sam x reader #friends to lovers

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dustbummy · 2 years

Text

CINNABUN CRUSHES (part one)

Jinx x fem! kirraman! reader

Not a lot of jinx in this chapter I'm sorry.

Reader, like always, is written to be any size or skin color.

Smart! Reader

Basically just 'gaypanic!; the sequel' just with a reader in heavy denial.

Aand if it wasn't obvious already, this is an au, semi same universe, just if it had been a lot nicer to the characters. (Mainly jinx)

Basically all of the main parts of arcane happened but like vi and jinx came to like an understanding and all of the misconceptions were cleared up. So vi spends a lot of her time with jinx, because of course she would, and spends her time secretly with cait as well. Jinx never nuked the council.

Jinx still hates Caitlyn tho, because I find that kinda funny. But (name) doesn't envolve herself in enforcer business, to busy being future head of the kirraman clan and she has never met vi or jinx. (But has listened to cait rant about them both) Caitlyn hasn't told (name) about her full relationship with vi tho, so (name) just speculates on there being one.

Silco's not dead, just heavily injured and getting treated.

(The sequel to camomile dreams if that wasn't obvious)

I own nothing! Sueing me would be a hate crime.

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╾დ╼

(Name) indeed did wake up the next morning in her plush bed, the soft fire's crackling being the sounds she wakes up to. Was it all a dream?

The young woman pulls herself out of her bed, throwing her legs over it's side nd drawing back the curtain. She had woken up in the same night gown she dreamed of, how strange. Normally, her dream clothes are the strangest and most gorgeous shade of blue.

The (haircolor)ette slides off her unusually high bed, legs buckling a little when she falls, feet slipping slightly on the hardwood floor. Damn slippers.

With her most recent dream still in her mind, the girl slowly makes her way into her grand connected bathroom. Undoing the buttons on her nightgown the further she strayed away from the soft bed.

Once in there she closes the door quickly, getting dressed without the maids or service that her mother provided. How could she have dreamed up such a 'unique' person?

Well then was she real? She attempts to recall every bit of the 'dream'. Manicured hands gripping the marble counter top as she bent over it, shaking her head in denial right after. No, she must couldn't have been.

(Name) in the dream had been a stuttering idiot. (Name) in real life, wasn't. Everything else might've been true or realistic in the dream but (name) herself, had been winning awards for being a child prodigy since she was young. Eloquent words and confident smiles had been her trademark since, well forever!

No way she would ever fumble over her words just because some pretty underground girl decided to perch on her balcony for a bit.

The young woman convinces herself of the dreams existence rather quickly after that, now dressed, the woman exits her bathroom to start her day.

╾დ╼

What is it about that girl and why couldn't (name) get her out of her head. The woman groans, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her index finger and thumb. Her irritation growing the fuzzier her head got while she thought of her mysterious 'dream' girl. (Name) pouts a little when she realized how that last bit sounded.

All of it had been stuck in her head since she had awoken, her angry yet soft and raspy voice, sounding a little worn out and breathy as if she'd been running for miles.

(Name) remembered how suffocating the air around her was. As if the girl had lived to intimidate and tease others. (Name) remembered how shiny and blue her long lightly decorated hair had been, how she had to manually blow her large bang away from her eyes at times. Don't even get name started on her eyes, enflamed fuschia irises that looked as if she had both held all the knowledge in the world and none at all. She was so...so, so not real! She didn't even exist!

The woman shakes her head, hand returning to the book, tightening around the bound cover. She doesn't exist! She reminds herself, shaking her head again. She was created in (name)'s stupidly smart mind. A manifestation of whatever (name) feels like she's missing in life right now.

And from the way she bumbled in her dream, (name) would guess a romantic partner. Her (colored) eyes roll at the thought. She had never been in a relationship surprisingly, way too focused on improving the kirraman name further to even come close to dating anyone.

Sure, she felt crushes like everyone else and found herself fantasizing some days about having a partner and kids but that felt more like an unattainable spinoff dream than an actual future. Said crushes had never had her so tongue tied or had such a hold over her though, never. Maybe she feels like she's behind on that front and created the balcony girl to 'catch up' in a way?

Or she could be wrong and the girl could've been her want for adventure or something, she was pretty mysterious. Though the romance one is what the kirraman girl is betting on; adventure brought risks and risks could result in failure. Something (name) absolutely hated.

The woman drifts her eyes back down to the wrangler book in her hand, immediately relaxing her grip and attempting to read the words.

"I didn't know pilties came out after dark." A raspy yet sugary sweet voice, right behind her, (name) could almost feel the soft lips brush against her ears outer shell. If the (haircolored) girl tried hard enough, she could practically feel the imaginary girls delicate yet rough and quick hands drift down her shoulder, pink and blue nails raking against her arm. Her face heats up at the illusion of such touch, lips parting as a faint gasp left them. (Name) could practically feel the warmth that bubbled up in her chest.

The hands drift lower, slinking around her back and intertwining at her front. Just under her chest. (Name) lurched forward in her seat, only moving but so far before she is yanked back into compliance. Wayward spindly fingers tracing small hearts into her rapidly moving chest, soft with lunderlying predatory intentions. How could she-

She's not real!

At the revelation, the youngest kirraman snapped open her eyes, swiveling her head around to greet, nothing. The hands are gone, replaced by the cushions on the love seat. Not even the drawn curtains had been out of place, no sign of anyone other than her in the library at all. It had felt so real...

The young woman jumps out of her seat, still holding the leather bound book in both of her hands. Surveying the expanse of the room, holding the slightly heavy book out as if in a means to protect her.

But it felt so real

A sense of hopelessness washes over her, was she going crazy? The (short/tall) girl lowers her book, eyes falling downcast standing in the middle of the open and vacant library. She's not here.

I-I must've just accidentally fallen asleep and dreamt her again. (Name) nods at the reasoning, deciding to chalk it up to just a weird nap to preserve her mental state. It's okay, you've fallen asleep in weirder spots.

"(Name)?" (Name) practically jumps out of her skin. Physically feeling her soul leave her body for a few seconds. Oh, it's just Cait.

Caitlyn. Oh that's right they were supposed to go to that new bakery place today. "Coming." (Name) gives her older sister a nod, gently closing the already wrinkled book, not like she needed a placeholder. She barley got through the first page placing the book back in its rightful place on the bookshelf and following her sister out of the family library.

The younger girl reaching out to hold the orders hand. Squeezing a little as to ground herself back into the present. Cait thinks nothing of it, pulling her sister closer to her and swinging their arms as they walk side by side down the hallway.

╾დ╼

(Name) shuffles in the slightly uncomfortable seat. Fiddling with her vanilla milkshakes teaspoon, swirling it through the teacup and further ruining the once perfect whipped cream. Who puts milkshakes in teacups?

Caitlyn sits across from her, drinking a bit of her strawberry milkshake -ew gross!-, a small blush slowly overtaking her face. The (hair colored) girl smirked at her older sister's bashfulness.

Their waiter had been flirting quite blatantly with Caitlyn ever since they entered the damn sweet shop. It was a common occurrence in piltover, so (name) wasn't too surprised.

The kirraman name was pretty well known around piltover. With Cassandra being a council woman and the matriarch of the kirraman clan, Caitlyn being a very skilled marksman and (name) being a child prodigy and Cassandra's successor, it was hard to not know the kirraman name. So, it was only natural for people to come knocking on their door, begging for a chance from one (or sometimes both) of the girls. (Cassandra would shortly after practically chase them off their property from her biting words alone.)

(Name) while flustered at first has gotten used to it over the years. So much so that it doesn't even phase her anymore when some poor soul would even try their luck with the youngest kirraman. Usually Caitlyn is oblivious enough when it comes to romance that their provocative words usually just fly over her head. The bluenette focused on more enforcer-ish? Things. (Name) still can't really tell you what it is enforcers do besides accompany her places sometimes. That was more of cait's domain if she were honest.

But today was already a strange day for her and the young woman needed a distraction. So, telling Caitlyn about the semi-attractive waiter flirting with her seemed like a perfect opportunity.

(Name) bites back a smug smirk, innocently brushing her pointer finger around the rim of her milkshake. "C'mon, you're that dense caity?" The younger of the two questions.

Caitlyn clears her throat, her ears tipped red. "Shut up (name)." The older grumbles under her breath, hiding behind the curtain of her straight blue locks. All of a sudden focused on her cremé puff.

"Oh yeah," Name rolls her eyes, lifting the teacup to her lips and looking off to her side, put the window. "You like that Vi girl." At Caitlyn's embarrassed silence she decides take it one step further.

(Name) allows herself to visibly roll her eyes, licking off the excess whipped cream she'd acquired on her finger. "What? Not interested?" The girl teases, eyebrow raised in mock concern.

"You know I'm not." Caitlyn hisses, leaning over the table so nobody around them could hear her. She lifts her hand to her face quickly after.

"Yeah you are." (Name) interrupts.

Caitlyn immediately takes offense, blush rising on her cheeks while she shook her head profusely. To no avail of course. "No! Well- but i-"

(Name) shakes her head, teasing smile still on her face, hiding it behind her cup and the copious amount of whipped cream. "Don't lie caity-cat." I've forgotten how much fun teasing Caitlyn is.

"I'm not lyin-"

(Name) snorts, "Liar." The older girl sends her sister a glare, wishing she could just get sucked up into a black hole already. "Lower you voice!" Caitlyn insists.

(Name) waves her hand in a whatever motion, shrugging her shoulders a little bit to further her point. She'd never admit it aloud, but she has missed having such moments with her older sister.

The sisters, while still living under the same roof, hadn't been able to really talk in a whole year. The both of them, far too busy working on their lives and careers to sit down and converse for longer than three minutes. Caitlyn, busy working towards her desired position as an enforcer, and (name) with her responsibilities as heir to the kirraman clan.

They used to be so close, despite their decently sized age gap, and stubborn, antisocial personalities, they were each other's best friends. Not talking in so long hurt the both of them.

It's actually part of the reason they were in the coffee shop. Caitlyn, coming home all roughed up with a growing bruise that matched her hair in color knocked on (name)'s door in the middle of the night. Almost crying in relief when she saw her younger sisters tired and annoyed face when she opened the door.

After spending her afternoon (night? Caitlyn couldn't tell) with the dysfunctional sisters, (who'd thankfully come to a non lethal and desired conclusion) the oldest kirraman daughter realized that she took her own younger sister for granted a few times herself. Suddenly aware of how long it has been since they last talked. Hm, maybe that tea party from hell actually had some benefits.

After that, it seemed like their gradual distance, just faded away. They stayed in (name)'s room all night, the two of them giggling like schoolgirls into the wee hours of the morning. And agreed to talk to each other at least once a day, never wanting their relationship to get that strained again.

"I- (name)!" Caitlyn's blush grows even darker when (name) makes kissy faces, wanting nothing more than to simply throttle her younger sister.

"Oh Vee! Your lips taste heavenly-" (name)'s voice raised several octaves, sounding akin to that of a squeaky british chew toy.

"We've never- I- my voice does not sound like that! And it's Vi!" Caitlyn obviously took offense to the blatant caricature. Her sulking interrupted by the younger girl once more.

"Feast your eye's upon my bulging yet stiff muscles my darling cupcake!" (Name) could barley get the sentence out, having to put her tea cup down as a small laughing fit overcame her. The absurdity of her words pared with the embarrassed yet pissed look on her sisters face growing too much for her.

She laughed so hard that her ribs hurt, having to shakily put one hand over her chest while the other covered her mouth. Almost choking multiple times while she attempted to calm herself down. Aware of the sudden eyes that were now on the both of them. Moms gonna have a fit.

Caitlyn's face did the impossible, growing an even darker red in color as she tried to silence the girl across from her.

Soon enough, after a couple minutes more, (name) calmed down, and caitlyn's red face turned back to normal. The semi- peaceful atmosphere returned, though the (haircolored) girl had to reorder for a drink to soothe her now irritated throat.

"Serves you right." Caitlyn pouted, still not really over the teasing.

"You knew it would come eventually." (Name) snarked right back at her. Taking a sip of the ginger tea given to her, the hot beverage helping her raspy throat.

Caitlyn shrugged, giving a single nod at the statement. She definitely did.

╾დ╼

Name lays face up in her bed, head resting on the multiple fluffy pillows, hand conjoined just under her chest. Her (eyecolored) eyes staring up at her painted ceiling in wonder.

She can't sleep.

The (haircolor) turns over on her side with a huff. Tucking her arm under the pillow. She doesn't want to go out onto her balcony either this time, still not over the dream girl from last time. Plus, she already finished her book and now has to wait til the next day to get another, so she'd be bored out there anyway.

After their 'sister bonding time' Caitlyn had dropped (name) off at home. Apparently, she had a date with vi so Caitlyn had left (name) to her own devices for the next couple of hours.

(Caitlyn didn't know that 'name' knew, still attempting keeping their budding relationship under wraps. She's not very good at it though.)

(Name) hadn't minded of course, happy that her older sister was happy, so she just made sure to keep their mom busy. Distracting Cassandra with long winded questions that the (hair colored) girl already knew the answer to to further stall time.

After Caitlyn returned of course, (name) had taken a shower, and practically ran to bed. Using the excuse of her being 'suddenly tired', in reality she just didn't want to be in her mothers vicinity encase Caitlyn blew it.

(Name) gives a small huff, rolling her eyes and turns onto her other side.

Just outside her canopy, her balcony door rattles. The noise itself driving the girl on the bed out of her thoughts, a soft, unheard gasp leaving her.

(Name) sits up quickly in her bed, clutching the comforter closer to her chest, small twinges of fear growing the longer the seconds drew on. Part of her wants to dive under the covers and hide there until morning. But that's childish, there's no such thing as monsters. Still, the (haircolor-ette) draws her body closer in on itself, attempting to make herself smaller while she listened on.

Silence.

A prolonged silence.

She was being stupid. There's no such thing as a monster.

It was most likely the wind. (Name) takes a small breath, acknowledging the puerile situation. But then again, the wind can't knock against doors.

Sleep. The startled heir tells herself, your just tired.

And so, she tugs the covers impossibly further towards her body. Laying her weary head against a soft pillow and closes her eyes, forces her mind to rest as she tires herself out.

Just outside her balcony, large blue braids whip around the corner. Leaving a small, delicately crafted gift near the door, for its new owner to find in the morning.

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#jinx x reader #arcane x reader #vi x caitlyn #arcane league of legends #jinx league of legends

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