#he’s turning me into a sappy lovesick loser
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bruisedboys · 4 months ago
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I sent my bf a video of me kissing the camera (cringe…🤢) and he called me cute, screen-recorded it and told me he’s gonna keep it forever, and also said it’s now his favourite video ever…. I’m in love I think?????
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moonstruckme · 10 months ago
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hiiiii!!!! may i request high!reader x high!steve or sirius just being all sweet and cuddly and lovey and dovey
Course you can :)
cw: weed
Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 635 words
“Dude.” 
You turn towards where Steve sits next to you on the couch, tapping his shoulder urgently. “Dude, dude.” 
He catches your hand by the wrist, looking at you seriously. “Call me ‘dude’ one more time and I swear to god I’ll break up with you.” 
Your face splits in a grin you can barely feel happening. It’s like second nature, no muscles required. “You’re such a liar.” 
Steve shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips. “What do you want, loser?” 
“How’s that any better than dude?”
He takes your face in his hand. Kisses you soundly. “Just tell me.” 
It takes you a bit to remember. Steve’s kisses always get you in a tizzy, but combined with the weed it feels as if you have to pull yourself back to consciousness. Like your very mind will drift off-kilter if you don’t keep it in check. 
“Soft serve,” you say after a moment. “We should go get soft serve. God, doesn’t that sound so good? The cold, and the texture…” Your tongue tingles as if you can feel it, your entire being aching with yearning. 
“Oh my god,” Steve laughs, “you’re so far gone.” 
You laugh too, though you’re not totally sure why. It just keeps happening. Every time Steve speaks, it feels like he’s tugging laughter out from inside you like a pulled thread. 
“I am not,” you giggle. “Doesn’t soft serve sound amazing?” 
He pivots, bringing one foot up in front of him so that he’s sitting sideways on the couch, facing you. His hair squishes flat where he leans against the cushion. “Yeah, it does,” he says. “One problem, though.” You mirror him, tilting your head curiously. “Neither of us can drive right now.” 
Your heart sinks. “Oh.” 
You must look really put out, because Steve chucks your chin like he thinks he’s a dad on TV. 
“I might have some ice cream in the freezer,” he offers. 
“It’s not going to be the same,” you sigh. “It’s not soft.” 
“I can leave it out until it gets soft.” 
“Not in the same way soft serve is soft.” 
He hums, saddened by your sadness, which feels appropriate. It’s nice to know he understands. He works a hand behind your ear, eyes warm and brown and tender. “I’m sorry, honey.” 
His voice feels like honey, the way he says it. It drips slow and sweet into your core, where it pools with pleasant stickiness. You make a tiny, lovesick sound in the back of your throat, nuzzling his palm. 
“You look really good,” you whisper, like it’s a secret. 
It’s overwhelming how true it is. Steve always looks good, but today he looks soft and rumpled and special. He’s wearing sweatpants that never leave the house, his shirt is all wrinkled, riding up his side that’s pressed into the couch to reveal a triangle of abdomen, and his always-perfect hair is in complete disarray. The sight of him makes your head feel all lax and sappy. You like that this Steve is just for you. 
“Yeah?” His voice drops to a hush, too, in solidarity. “So you do. You’re really pretty, have I told you that?” 
You grin, face mushing into his hand. “Yeah,” you say bashfully. 
Steve smiles too. “I thought you were upset about the soft serve.” 
You shake your head. You should be, maybe, but the weed keeps diffusing the edges of your feelings. 
“I’ll be upset if we don’t cuddle,” you tell him. 
“Oh, now we’re giving ultimatums?” he asks, already gathering you in his arms. You slot your knees on either side of his ribcage, forehead bumping against his nose. “You must have me real wrapped around your finger, babe.” 
You giggle, leaning up to kiss his cheek. You like to think you do.
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drunkonimagination · 2 years ago
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Please share the sappy scenario for science 🙏🏻
jwksjsjjsksjskkas sure why not
imagine if one day at the umpteenth 'shut up thomas' the boy mumbles to himself, alastair can't take it anymore and finally asks thomas for explanations like 'c'mon tom, tell me what you were thinking, i won't tease you, i promiseee' and poor thomas who wouldn't be able to deny alastair anything, even at the expense of his own dignity, eventually gives up and mutters something about alastair being 'so beautiful and elegant that he looks like a persian prince from a fairytale', a hand behind his neck and his cheeks turning redder as he keeps talking.....and alastair, certified loser and biggest lovesick fool on earth, gives him barely time to finish the sentence before jumping on him and kissing every inch of thomas's pretty face.
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hazbinned · 5 months ago
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Surprisingly, instead of panicking further, Vox actually... laughed, a little bit, to himself.
"Jeez! I don't know how you could be so right and then turn around and get it so wrong..."
He slipped from the chair and stood in front of Val, trying to get within the moth's line of sight. A little smile was offered, and a little wave, before he clasped both hands behind his back.
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"You are what I really want. That's why I'm such a coward."
Vox was old, and being old was at the root of his problems. But he was powerful, and rich, and had everything a lady could dream of. If it mattered so much to him, he would have a girlfriend. He wouldn't be stringing Val along, or putting himself out there like this.
"Easy is so lame, Val! I'm not just going to settle for some chick when the person I really love is right in front of me."
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A grin, and an... elbow nudge? It was awkward because Valentino was sitting in the chair and Vox was not, but Vox attempted one anyway.
"Did you know I make a heart when I light your cigarettes? Blink and you miss it, but I've been doing it every time. For years."
It was supposed to be his goofy little secret, but Val should know!
"Same thing when I charge your phone," Vox declared, hands on his hips. "Every time. Talk about sappy, Val. If someone else was doing that, I'd think they were a lovesick loser with half a brain..."
And yet, here he was!
"You know what? When we go out tomorrow, let's ask for the candle and one of those stupid drinks with two straws. Iiiiifff you want."
If he had visible pupils, they'd be shifting side to side here, exposing more of himself than he ever would have liked. He's not close to tears--far from it, but the way his chest ached just simply didn't feel good whatsoever.
He says he's not the issue, he says he's not the problem, but then he just starts looking down at himself anyways--at his own body, and feels his antenna just droop some more.
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✥✧∘* "...This would be easier if I was a woman." It's said so...bluntly, hands gripping at the sheets a little more. What Vox was saying could easily be interrupted that this was about love. Love was scary! Of course he'd pull back!!! But then...that doesn't explain the blatant self image issues that were fucking screaming from Vox's every fiber.
Vox, as trendy as he was, was a fucking old man. He was older than he was. So of course he'd struggle. Hell allowed for both of them a new chance at exploring things about themselves, but that didn't erase that human past. The human past is what led them down here in the first place.
✥✧∘* "...But thanks for trying, Voxxy. Even if I'm not really what you want." He breathes in, not looking at him now.
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ateezmakemeweep · 4 years ago
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you’re the one that i want (part 24)
word count: 5k
fluff
(part 23) (series masterlist)
it was crazy how long days used to feel during this time just last year, after winer break started and the draining third and forth marking periods of school started.
usually, you’d be crumbling. 
working your hardest to maintain your grades while also dealing with a toxic home environment. you loved school because it served as a safe haven away from that but it also drained and exhausted every bit of you.
but four months of your life now passed by unbelievably fast and you were handling everything well, good people around you that made schoolwork just a little more tolerable. 
when you were struggling with math, mingi would help you during lunch. if you needed someone to test you with flashcards, yeosang would reward every correct answer with a piece of food. when a particular teacher gave you shit for anything, wooyoung was quick to cause some sort of chaos even if it meant getting detention. 
and when everything just got too overwhelming and you never wanted to look at another book again, seonghwa was quick to clear your desk and drag you to bed. lay you down and hold himself above you until you were smiling and giggling as he pecked kisses down your neck.
you think it was solely because of him and the others and your aunt that june came so fast, only two weeks left of school and everyone buzzing with excitement; even with the whines and arguing coming from your lunch table.
“you’re really gonna make us stay in a hotel for the whole summer?” wooyoung asked, looking at seonghwa with distrust and hurt in his eye. “i thought we had fun at your house that time.”
because with only two weeks left of school meant only two weeks left of you and seonghwa commuting back and forth.
of seeing wooyoung, san, mingi and yeosang every day who have really grown to love this dynamic; so much so, they’ve been all but begging to spend the whole summer there with you two.
but to no one’s surprise, seonghwa wasn’t for the idea.
“no, you guys had fun. i was one second away from flinging myself off a fucking cliff.”
“that’s not fair,” san whines. 
but the dirty blonde only quirks an eyebrow and asks if it was fair that he had to sleep on the floor on his own bedroom every night. or be rudely woken up and forced to make breakfast. or share his girlfriend and-
“no hotel, you guys could always stay with me,” you interrupt sweetly, a small smile on your face that only widens when you feel seonghwa glaring at you. your head cranes over to look him up and down, a smirk crossing your face as you shrug your shoulders carelessly. 
“what?” 
“yeah, what?” wooyoung asks, mimicking your higher voice causing you to narrow your eyes at him.
“really? what?” seonghwa asks, annoyance and exasperation in his tone. “i don’t want you burning my girlfriend’s house down, that’s what.” 
“girlfriend, this. girlfriend, that. we all know you have a girlfriend, okay.”
“what? girlfriend? i don’t have a girlfriend.” 
everyone’s heads snap to the side when a new voice stammers those words out, yeosang finally arriving and standing there looking incredibly panicked and guilty.
it makes you in particular cock an eyebrow, the other boy’s “where the hell did you come from” and “we know you loser,” quickly turning back into whines and protests to seonghwa. 
but for the the rest of lunch, you could only focus on how...odd yeosang is acting.
peeking at you every now and then before smiling awkwardly, checking his phone and trying to hide his smile, needing mingi or san to repeat themselves several times because he just seems so dazed and out of it.
when lunch ends, seonghwa is quick to stand up and grab your hand as per your usual walk to class together. but you take your hand from his hold and place it on his arm, standing up on your tippy toe to peck his cheek.
“can you go without me?” you ask softly, using a voice you know will always get him. “i wanna talk to yeosang for a second.” 
“oh?” he mumbles, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear casually. “what about?”
“i don’t know, he was acting strange,” you say quietly, turning to see him gathering his stuff and checking his phone once more. “i wanna make sure he’s okay.”
the dirty blonde looks to yeosang and hums quietly, looking over his friend who meets his gaze.
“what?” 
“why are you being a weird fuck?”
“seonghwa!” you squeal, smacking his chest before quickly ushering him away.
he lets out a loud chuckle before squeezing your hand once more, telling you he’ll meet you at the end of the period and meeting yeosang’s middle finger with one of his own. 
“your boyfriend’s such a dick.”
a small smirk crosses your face as you shrug, looking the boy over with a suspicious look in your eye. a look that he catches and turns an endearing but humorous shade of red because of.
“why are you looking at me like that?”
“because i think you got yourself a girlfriend,” you say, poking his arm as you two walk through the crowded, bustling hallways. he lets out a scoff before bumping into you, remembering to be gentle;
because the last time he did that, you smacked into a wall and he paid for it dearly - curtsey of seonghwa’s fist in his stomach.
“what makes you say that?” 
“just a vibe,” you say, the sweet smile on your face morphing into a teasing one when he raises an eyebrow. “and you’re little ‘who me? i don’t have a girlfriend!’ was the icing on the cake, really.”
he stares blankly at you causing you to giggle, shrugging your shoulders as you promise you won’t tell anyone if that’s the case.
and it takes a little bit of persuading, just a pout on your lips before you remind him how mean he was to you when you first met for good measure.
“that’s not fair,” he sighs out, a smirk on your face as you shrug your shoulders. 
and just as you knew you would, you find out he’s been seeing a girl for a few months. that they’re not official or serious, only having been on a few dates but enough time for him to really like her. 
“she kind of scared the shit out of me at first,” he laughs out and you have to suppress the squeal threatening to leave your lips at the sappy look on his face. “she still kinda does but she’s also really fucking cool. i don’t know, i just like her.”
and once he sees the bright smile on your face, he knows he made a grave mistake. 
“but don’t tell those shitheads yet, i wanna ask her out first.”
“oh? when you are going to? today? oh, my gosh and how?” you squeal excitedly, the initial budding of a romance something that always makes your heart soar. but it proves to only make yeosang roll his eyes, the sound of the bell blaring through the hall saving him.
“perfect timing,” he quips, your arm shooting out to push at him before he rushes down the hallway to his class.
“perfect timing.”
san narrows his eyes at you a few hours later at the cafe, a smirk crossing your face when you see wooyoung wave to you from the window; it’s almost the 6th shift in a row the boy has made him late for but he looks all too pleased with himself.
“he has no shame,” you hum lowly, giggling softly when you see a blush cross san’s face. “and neither do you, apparently.”
“stop,” he whines, hitting you lightly in the arm. “you have to be nice, we only have a few weeks left together here.”
because as much as you love san and this cafe, commuting during the summer would’ve been an absolute nightmare. and his parents had been the ones to suggest it, telling you they would never in a million years fire you but wanted you to enjoy your summer.
“and you can’t do that if you’re trapped in a car ten hours a week,” they said, before taking notes from their son and promptly pushing free cookies and cakes down your throat.
but you’re really gonna miss this place. even if you’re only away from it for a few months, it acted as a safe haven when you really needed one. was one of the only places where you’d have a smile on your face and not feel like your life was falling apart at the seams.
“what do you mean? you guys are staying with me,” you say, looking at him like a confused puppy in a way that makes him smile. 
“seonghwa’s not gonna allow that.”
“well luckily, it’s not up to seonghwa. it’s up to me and my aunt.”
san bites the inside of his cheek to hold back his smirk, looking at you with a quirked up eyebrow causing you to mirror his expression.
“what?” 
“just keep that energy when he’s around too,” the boy teases before his eyes dramatically bat and his face becomes one of a lovesick teen. “but seonghwa, pleaseee,” he whines, doing a lousy impression of your voice that makes you smack his shoulder.
but your fight and quarreling is quickly interrupted by the uncharacteristically abrupt entrance of bo-ra, the once shy girl coming out of her shell a little bit more everyday. 
you were happy you were able to keep your friendship with them despite the fact they were at different school, always having at least two customers a day who you could guarantee would make you and san smile. 
“you guys will never believe this.”
and right when bo-ra tells you jojo has been seeing a boy for a few months now, you almost don’t believe it. not only because of the crazy coincidence that yeosang, too, has been seeing a girl for the past few months but because it might be jojo. 
it almost seemed as if the girl had sworn off any and all high school boys because they are “mean, idiotic assholes who think with the wrong, less impressive head.” 
and yeosang being the one to change that perspective? you couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of it all. 
how yeosang, at one point, was the exact description of that. how, really, all of them were like that except the sweet blonde throwing his head back in laughter at this information.
“no way, who is he? and what’s wrong with him?”
you both let out a snort and hit the boy playfully, bo-ra putting a finger to her lips as she looks at san chastisingly. 
“stop it, they’re coming any second now! i ran ahead because i could not stand to watch them awkwardly bump arms and blush any longer. but act natural. pretend i didn’t tell you. in fact, maybe you guys should act like you don’t even-”
but the second the door rings open, san is up and over to them in a second. he’s so hot in pursuit he doesn’t even realize it’s the familiar brown-haired boy, teasing eyes on jojo as he greets them with a tray of cookies.
“i gotta give it to jojo, i never thought  anyone would be able to-”
and it’s at hearing the lowly mumbled “shit,” under his breath that makes san stop talking, snapping his head over to see no other than yeosang looking at him with a half annoyed, half guilty expression.
“yeosang?” 
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the last two weeks of school for you, and mostly everyone else, were great. the work was light, the teachers were lenient and every single person was in good spirits and anticipating the fun and relaxation that came with summer. 
the last two weeks of school for yeosang, however, were...disastrous. because not only was everyone giving him shit for having a girlfriend, they were chastising him for keeping it a secret.
“it wasn’t a fucking secret! i just hadn’t asked her officially yet and i wanted to wait until-”
“we went through this shit before and we’re not about to do it again,” mingi says, whacking the top of the brunet’s head before looking at you and seonghwa. “no offense guys.”
“none taken,” you giggle out as you shake your head, seonghwa rolling his eyes before pulling you into him further. you smile softly against him and meet his gaze, smirking at the look on his face and leaning up to peck his cheek.
it’s a look that only gets more annoyed and tense as the conversation goes into summer, his arm still tightly around you serving as the only thing to keep him grounded and sane. 
the same way you’re the only thing keeping him sane now, you in the front seat of his car while wooyoung, mingi, san and yeosang all flail around and hit each other in the back. the trunk is full of suitcases and bags filled enough for two months because, of course, he had lost that battle. 
“i’ll definitely be a better surfer, are you fuckin’ nuts?” 
“no fucking way, you’re too lanky.”
“well you’re too short! did you stop growing at age eight?”
seonghwa looks over at you, a pained expression on his face at the juvenile conversation in the back and you can only tighten your hold on your intertwined hands.
look down and smile at not only the banter of the boys and your boyfriend’s utter annoyance but the way his hand holds yours so securely.
how they fit together perfectly as you trace your other fingers over the black rings and veins of his hand. 
“it’s gonna be fine,” you tell seonghwa softly, surprised he can even hear you despite the chaos in the back. “they could always stay with me if you need a break.”
but he only looks over at you and shakes his head, bringing your hand to his lips before he tightens his hold on you. 
“absolutely not, i could never put you through that.”
you let out a snort before wooyoung’s head is directly between you both, his arms on the console and neck snapping back and forth as he begs seonghwa for surfing lessons to prove mingi wrong.
and much to the taller boy’s dismay, wooyoung actually did prove to be the better surfer. 
because after only two days of you guys going down to the ocean, seonghwa’s reluctant help in teaching him, though nowhere near as thorough as the lessons he provided last year, proved that the brunet was just somehow naturally gifted at it.
“how does it feel to fucking suck?” wooyoung laughs at mingi, watching the boy roll in clumsily after being knocked by waves. his wet hair’s a mess of tangles and seaweed and yunho can only watch from the beach with a frown on his face.
“he’s trying though,” the tall boy whines to you, a giggle leaving your mouth as you shake your head. 
“i know, he really is,” you say, the two of you laughing again as mingi jumps up and tries to dunk wooyoung under water. you two watch as the shorter boy gets away, much to mingi’s annoyance, and he looks at you two with a dejected look.
“come here,” yunho yells down to mingi, his large hand flagging the boy over. but he only lets shake his head and tells him to go there, that he needs his help now and is gonna cry if he doesn’t.
and what mingi wants from the boy, he gets almost immediately. because you don’t know if you’ve ever seen yunho move so fast, rolling your eyes at how easy he gives in before you lay back down and enjoy the warm sun on your skin - but only for a few moments.
because then you feel a familiar pair of arms around you, your eyes shooting open just in time to see you’re being thrown over seonghwa’s shoulder as he’s heads to the ocean. you squeal and hit his back and tell him he better not throw you in but you don’t even have to see him to know there’s a smirk on his face.
he goes in until it’s waist deep before promptly throwing you down, the freezing june water making you squeal out before popping up with a gasp.
“seonghwa!”
“i’m sorry, baby, but i had to,” he whines, circling his arms around your waist. you narrow your eyes but welcome his touch anyway, even jump up and wrap your legs around his hips in a move you’re all too familiar with in this ocean.
“you really didn’t,” you whine softly but he can only kiss your salty lips and you smile against them, meeting the chaste, sweet kiss back immediately. your arms wrap around his neck when his tongue slips in just a little teasingly, pushing yourself further into him and smiling when he pulls back.
“it’s broad daylight,” his deep voice chokes out warningly, your one hand snaking down to trace the lines of his stomach teasingly.
“you started it,” you quip back playfully, trying so desperately to remember there are far too many people around to repeat what happened several times right in this ocean.
but how could you forget? especially with the scoffs and splashing coming from just a few feet away from you.
“hey sickos, i’m pretty sure you can get arrested for that,” yeosang yelps, seonghwa pulling away to sneer at him while you hide your face in embarrassment because he’s probably right. 
you can feel the dirty blonde smile against your head as you hide in his neck, seonghwa’s fingers threading through your hair before pulling your face back to look at him.
he can’t help but snort when he sees the pink flush on your cheeks, knowing it’s not from the sun because he made sure to put sunscreen on you before coming down to the beach today.
“did you put on sunscreen?”
your face drops and the guilty look in your eyes causes him to groan. he drops his board and takes the black bag from his back, zipping it open and pulling out a bottle of sunscreen.
“here.”
and you already know better than to refuse, taking it with a wince and quiet “thank you.”
he watches you rub it over your arms and shoulders, feeling your cheeks warm as his eyes stay on you. “did you put some on?” you ask, in an effort to distract yourself from his piercing gaze.
but he only nods his head, picking his board up and dusting off some sand and dirt as his eyes remain on you. you squirt some more on your hand before giving it to him with a grateful smile, rubbing it in and then wiping the excess on your face.
“thank you,” you tell him. “i always forget to put it on which would explain why i’m a little-”
“missed some,” he hums lowly, his hand slowly reaching out so his thumb can rub in the lotion on your cheek.
he does everything so smoothly and nonchalantly while you inhale sharply, your lips parting and watching him with wide eyes. it was the first indication that his touch was gonna be gentle this week, his hands softer than you expected. his eyes meet yours when he pulls his hand back, raising his eyebrow when he sees your face.
“you good?”
yeah, i’m good, you think, i just have a handsome boy touching my face about to put me in cardiac arrest.
he plays the memory over in his head and can’t help but smile, your eyes catching his dazed look along with the softer look in his eye. 
“what?” you squeak, cocking your head to the side in confusion.
“nothing,” he says, shrugging his shoulders before tightening his hold on you. “i just love you.”
because he can’t help but think about those times last year, when he was bitter and jaded and so closed off to feeling anything positive. it’d all been a mask, of course, but he’d worn it for so long he didn’t know if he’d ever learn how to be without it.
but that was until he saw you, started everything with you right here in the form of soft, guiding touches that lingered just a little too long and shy looks back and forth that should’ve made him realize this was gonna be the result. 
him so easily telling you he loves you, with any and everyone around to hear him say it so surely. biting back a smile and feeling his heart lurch in his chest when your face softens and mouth drops open.
because even though you know he loves you, know that he says it several times a day and means it every time, it’s these random little moments that make your heart flutter the most.
when he’s saying it for no other reason than that he wants you to hear it, that he becomes fully consumed by the feeling just from watching you smile or feeling you against him.
but you still can’t help but blush as you softly tell him you love him too, his skin littered with water droplets and the sun shining behind him so devastatingly familiar and handsome. 
your arms tightly wound around his neck before he twirls you around and nearly sends you flying under water, your giggle and seonghwa’s deep chuckle echoing through the salty air. 
but it’s quickly cut off by another voice, one much harsher and not so giddy.
“jesus christ,” yeosang grumbles, you and seonghwa snapping your heads over to see him looking at you both. “please don’t tell me i’m gonna look this pathetic.”
“fuck off,” seonghwa snaps. but you can only smack him lightly and look at yeosang with a raised eyebrow, because you’ve actually seen him and jojo together and can confirm they’re just as pathetic as you two.
“of course you do,” you say, your eyes moving back to shore as a small, teasing smile crosses your face. “because look, jojo just got here.”
and the way yeosang’s face brightens and his head snaps to the side is the first indication you’re absolutely correct. his eyes roaming the beach and softly spoken “where is she?” making you feel just a little bit bad for lying. 
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the girls did, however, make it just a few days later for a weekend trip. yeosang greeted jojo just as pathetically as he feared to look, his arms wrapping around her body and pressing a kiss to her head like they hadn’t seen each other in months. 
mumbled that he missed her and how pretty she looked and you had to turn your face into seonghwa’s chest so you didn’t squeal. 
it was nice to see them both so vulnerable. when you first met them, they were harsher and colder, with walls not so easy to break down that always made them sneer in the face of love. made them question couples that made it seem like the end of the world when they were apart.
but now, they’re going through that dilemma firsthand with all the other couples, when talk of a girl sleepover and boy sleepover happen, san being looped into the former purely due to bo-ra’s request.
“what, no,” wooyoung whined, arm reaching out to pull the blonde back by the shirt. “he has to be with us. he’s technically a boy.”
“technically?” san asks, snapping his head to the side to look the pouting boy.
"but there’s already too many of you, yunho’s parents will go crazy,” you say, walking over and smacking wooyoung’s hand off the blonde. “and you get to see him all the time. bo-ra and jojo are only here for the weekend.”
“b-but,”
“i’ll be back to you in the morning, drama queen, since i’m only technically a boy,” san says, secretly far too excited with a night away from them; he loves his friends and woo but sometimes they get even a little too crazy for him, having grown used to spending all his time with you. 
and of course, you don’t miss your own boyfriend’s reluctance to let you go but can only assure him with a sweet smile and teasing shake of the head before you all run inside and lock the doors.
it takes your aunt all of two seconds to fall in love with your new friends, a spread of dessert and soda in wine glasses (except for her own) keeping you occupied well into the night.
you all laugh until tears are in your eyes and your sides hurt, the boys just a house away hearing the ruckus through the open windows.
“do you think...they’re talking about us?” wooyoung asks seonghwa and yeosang, the dirty blonde rolling his eyes as yeosang’s mouth drops open.
“oh, my god do they do that?” the brunet asks, shock and horror in his voice as both boys turn to look at seonghwa.
the dirty blonde is tapping on his phone before he feels eyes on him, looking over to see his two friends staring at him wildly.
“what is wrong with you guys?”
“let’s sneak over. i can’t take not knowing what they’re laughing about.” 
“what if they’re talking about our...”
another loud chorus of giggles and cackles rings through the window and it causes yeosang and wooyoung to shoot away from the window, paranoia quickly creeping up on them. 
“shit! they’re they go again. what the hell could be so damn funny?”
“they must be getting details from jojo now,” seonghwa says casually, wooyoung snorting as yeosang’s head snaps to him in outrage.
and while you guys might’ve been talking about them a little, you’d never let them know that. you’d never let them know you actually shared about how sweet and thoughtful they could all be, even given their flaws. 
but somewhere between talking and laughing and then going out in the pool, stormy clouds rolled in and before you knew it, rain and thunder was pelting against your window. 
blankets and pillows were sprawled out across your aunt’s couch as you all laid there cuddled into one another, san’s head on your foot while your head rested on jojo’s shoulder.
it took one movie to knock them out and then another for last girl, now just you with the darkness and roaring weather outside quickly making you miss the boy next door.
you’d gotten used to having him every night; more often than not, you slept together and woke to one another and now you’re feeling just a little hypocritical for tearing wooyoung and san away from each other so easily.
because you’re quick to sneak away from your three sleeping friends, cover them with blankets and turn of the tv, before sneaking into your room.
one particularly loud crack of thunder causes you to jump, cursing yourself when you check the pockets of your pajamas and realize you forgot your phone downstairs. 
“shit,” you mutter under your breath, about to turn around and make your way back down when you hear a knocking on your balcony door. 
and then suddenly, your life feels very much so like a horror movie - no means to communicate with anyone, the howling wind and darkness outside, a mysterious knocking at a door that the character is stupidly going to investigate.
but maybe it’s because, somehow, you knew your soaking wet boyfriend was gonna be standing on the other side. 
“i texted you,” he says simply, like he’s not standing out in the pouring rain or giving you a mini heart attack.
“you could’ve rang the doorbell!” you whisper-yell, pulling him inside before telling him to stay there. you run frantically around your room for a towel and an extra set of his clothes you ‘borrowed’ before throwing them at him.
“why did you do that, you’re gonna get sick!”
and despite your rush of adrenaline to save him, another crack of thunder causes you to jump and he can’t help the smirk that crosses his face. 
“you’re really asking me that?” 
“i told you i’m not scared of thunder,” you say surely, taking his wet clothes and hanging them in the bathroom before seeing he made himself quite comfortable in your bed. 
it’s upon hearing another boom outside, shaking the house and causing a squeal to leave your mouth, that you quickly scurry in next to him. cuddling yourself into him and resting your head on his chest as he wraps an arm around you tightly. 
he smiles against your head and doesn’t comment on the pounding of your heart against him, how any time a loud crack of thunder comes, you cling onto him just a little tighter the way you always do during a storm. 
“i’m not scared,” you insist, a deep chuckle leaving his mouth as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. 
“i know, baby, i just missed you,” he mumbles against your head, bringing your face to his so he can place a kiss on your lips. he tightens his hold on your hair when you deepen it, reach up and part of your mouths before moving up to straddle his hips. 
and despite the growing hardness you feel underneath you the more you kiss, he never tries to take it further. you just kiss and giggle and smile against the others mouth until you rest your head back on his chest, the feeling of his hand rubbing your back and softly spoken “i’m here, baby,” lulling to the sleep despite the storm outside. 
even though you’ll both be awakening to a different type of storm tomorrow, when wooyoung and yeosang discover seonghwa had snuck out and made his way to the house next door. 
(part 25)
tag list: @chogiout ; @psshwa ; @yeocult ; @seongghwaa ; @cherryeonii ; @chaoticbanqtan ; @8teenee ; @nczenniez ; @atinyarmyx1 ; @mingtopiaa ; @chubsluda ; @joongiebug ; @mochibabycakes​ ; @jisungity​ ; @skz-on-my-mind​ ; @nlost21​ ; @myonlyaurora​ ; @closer-stars​ ; @kuaenam3g​ ; @byungaji​ ; @floweryjh​ ; @joeycheungg​ ; @lostscenarios​ ; @atinyxtopia​ ; @sanisms​ ; @kpopnightingale​ ; @simpforhyunjin​ ; @89staytinyzen21​ ; @lokicaramel​ ; @hwaxbum​ ; @sakura-uji​ ; @songsoomin​ ; @toffee-hwa​ ; @deobitiful​ ; @hyunjeansuniverse​ ; @chrryhwa​ ; @i-know-you-know-lee-know​ ; @tiny-whatsername​ ; @fairieofeternity​ ; @yixing-jaehyun​ ; @sleepyseonghwa​ ; @revehosh​ ; @atletino​ ; @yeol-wish​ ; 
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rosebrightside · 4 years ago
Text
Some short Ajay Bhandari x MC drabbles 
Inspiration taken from these dialogue prompts by @akp-1327 (they’re seriously amazing, go check them out!)
Ajay Bhandari x m!MC (Lyall Turner) 
Fun & Lighthearted #7 - “Sprinkles are for winners.” 
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“Why don’t we make this interesting?” Lyall proposed. 
“A bet?” Ajay raised his eyebrows. “You’re on. Any ideas?”
Lyall thought for a moment before grinning mischievously. “Winner gets to put those rainbow sprinkles on their cupcakes. Loser gets none.”
Ajay’s eyes widened in horror. “How can you say that?! You know I love those sprinkles!”
“That’s what makes it interesting,” Lyall laughed. “But we don’t have to bet the sprinkles if you’re scared you won’t be able to beat me. I totally understand.” 
Ajay knew he was being baited. Lyall was wearing that dumb half smirk he tried to pass off as an easy smile that meant he was challenging Ajay. And Ajay wasn’t about to back down now. He scoffed. “Please. I could beat you in my sleep. Let’s do this. For the sprinkles.” 
“For the sprinkles!” Lyall cheered, jumping onto the couch for dramatic effect as Ajay went to fetch the controllers. “I will become the Sprinkle Lord!” He brandished the remote control like a sword. “I will lead my sprinkle soldiers into battle!”
Ajay laughed at his boyfriend’s antics. “Not if I become the Sprinkle Supreme first.”
Lyall took a controller from Ajay. “Sprinkle Supreme? What are you, a Star War’s character?”
“That would make me the Supreme Sprinkle.” Ajay paused. “I actually like that better.”
“Well then, Supreme Sprinkle, prepare to have your ass kicked.” 
“Don’t count your sprinkles before they sprinkle, janu.”
“I don’t know how to tell you this but that was probably the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said.”
“I can’t believe I lost,” Ajay groaned. “It’s impossible! Improbable! Inconceivable!”
“Ok, Princess Bride, dial it back with the adjectives,” Lyall said. He bumped Ajay’s hip teasingly as Ajay passed, holding a pan of cupcakes fresh from the oven. “No one likes a sore loser.” 
Ajay huffed. “I’m not a sore loser! I just regret picking Rainbow Road.” 
“Interesting,” Lyall mused. “You lost on Rainbow Road and the sprinkles you could have had if you won are rainbow coloured.” He gestured with the icing filled piping bag, putting on a philosophical air. “Irony, thy name is Ajay.”
“Why you – !” Ajay lunged and grabbed Lyall around the waist, swinging him off his feet and around the kitchen. “Turn Shakespeare against me, will you? ‘If it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge!’” He began poking Lyall’s sides and stomach, making him squirm and shriek with laughter. 
“‘Pray you now, forget and forgive!’” Lyall cried between gasps. 
“Never!” Ajay moved his hands more rapidly, taking advantage of Lyall being unable to tickle back while holding the piping bag. Lyall retaliated by squeezing some of the icing onto his hand and wiping it on Ajay’s face. 
“Now the war truly begins!” he shouted. 
The tickle fight rapidly dissolved into a competition of who could smear more icing on who. By the time Lyall stopped the fight so they could still have enough for the cupcakes, both boys’ faces and clothes were splattered with various coloured icing and Ajay was declared the winner. They iced the cupcakes in comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional giggle when they flicked spare icing or crumbs at each other and comments about the piping design. When they were finished, Ajay reached for the rainbow coloured sprinkles, eager to decorate his cupcakes, only to have Lyall swat his hand away. 
“Nope. Sorry, babe,” Lyall grinned. “Sprinkles are for winners.”
“I bet I can convince you to let me have some,” Ajay coaxed. He stepped closer to Lyall, one hand ghosting over his waist.
Lyall crossed his arms with a self-assured smirk. “You can’t. I have a will of iron.” 
“Well, what if I do this?” Ajay kissed his forehead. 
“Nope.” 
“What about this?” Ajay kissed a smear of pink icing off the tip of his nose. 
A tiny smile twitched at Lyall’s lips. “No.”
“And this?” Ajay placed kisses on both of Lyall’s cheeks.
Lyall was fighting a losing battle trying to suppress his smile now. “Nuh uh.” 
“This? Or this?” Ajay peppered Lyall’s face with kisses, trying to kiss every inch of it.
“Nooooo! Ajay!” Lyall laughed, squeezing his eyes shut and scrunching up his nose as he tried to twist away.
Ajay ended his attack with a gentle but firm kiss to Lyall’s lips. Lyall melted into it with a pleased sigh, arms looping around Ajay’s shoulders. 
When they pulled apart, Ajay cocked an eyebrow expectantly. “How about that?” he grinned. “Does that get me sprinkles?”
Lyall laughed, burying his face in the crook of Ajay’s neck. “Yes, that gets you sprinkles, you persistent weirdo.” 
Ajay smiled and pressed a kiss into Lyall’s hair. “Your persistent weirdo.”
Sweet & Sappy #25 - “C’mere, you can sit on my lap.” 
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“C’mere, you can sit on my lap.” 
Ajay raised his eyebrows at his boyfriend’s words. His eyes flicked sceptically over Lyall sitting expectantly on the couch. “Um, janu, you do realise that I’m around ten inches taller and definitely heavier than you, right? I’d squash you.”  
“No, you wouldn’t,” Lyall protested. “I’m stronger than I look, I swear! Remember how I dipped you at homecoming? I can handle it.”
Ajay still hesitated. “I’m not sure that amounts to the same thing.” 
“Come on, Ajay! Just try!” 
“Please try,” Lucy grinned. “I love seeing my twin proved wrong.” 
“Prepare for a Lyall shaped pancake on the couch,” Rory joked. 
Lyall huffed, annoyed. “You people have no faith in me. Come on, Ajay.” He patted his knee invitingly. 
Ajay could never say no to those big brown puppy eyes. Lyall could get whatever he wanted when he used those eyes. “Alright,” he relented. 
Carefully, Ajay lowered himself onto Lyall’s lap, settling his full weight onto him. He felt a bit stupid and uncomfortable. Lyall was quite a bit smaller than him and he could tell that he was crushing him. 
“This is fine,” Lyall squeaked, tucking one arm around Ajay’s waist.
“How’s it going, Lyall?” Skye smirked. “Still breathing?” 
Lyall shot her a glare. “Yes! Ajay’s not heavy.” 
Ajay leaned down to murmur in Lyall’s ear. “You’re sweet, but let’s switch. Your lap is too small for me anyway.” 
Lyall’s face flooded with relief. “Yeah, ok. That sounds good.” 
Ajay stood back up and they quickly switched so that Ajay was sitting on the couch with Lyall on his lap. Lyall snuggled into Ajay, wrapping his arms around his neck. 
“The glorious fall of Lyall’s ego,” Lucy snickered. “The world mourns the loss.” 
“And yet I’m being cuddled by my amazing boyfriend while your girlfriend isn’t even holding your hand,” Lyall shot back good-naturedly. 
Erin perked up. “Is that a challenge? You guys are going down!” She immediately wrapped both her arms and legs around Lucy in a full limbed embrace. 
“This week on ‘Let’s Make Rory Feel Single’,” Rory deadpanned. “Local couples invent a new sport – extreme cuddling!”
Sweet & Sappy #19 - “I’ve always imagined my future with you.” 
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“I actually wanted to give you something,” Lyall said. His hands were fidgeting and he was shifting from side to side, clearly nervous. 
“Ok,” Ajay said, sitting up properly from where he was reclining on the bed. “What is it?” 
Lyall’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Ok this is fine, I can do this.” He reached over and took Ajay’s hand. “Ajay, I love you so, so much. I can’t even describe how much. And this may seem strange for me to know because I’m still just a teenager, but I already know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He smiled shyly. “You’re the one for me. I don’t ever want anyone else.” 
Ajay smiled back, heart filling with pure joy and love. He didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much. “I feel the same way, janu. I’ve always imagined my future with you. You’re the only one I want.” 
Lyall let out a shaky breath, seeming to become more confident. “I’m glad. That makes this a lot easier.” He reached around his bed and produced a small black drawstring pouch. He opened it and tipped the contents into his palm; two silver rings. 
Lyall glanced up at Ajay with a blush. “I – I know we’re too young to get married, obviously, and that’s not what I’m asking. So for now I got us promise rings.” His blush deepened. “It’s kinda cheesy and dumb but I thought it would be cute and this way every time I look at my hand I can think of you, but it’s totally ok if you don’t want – mm!” 
Ajay cut off his rambling with a kiss. “I love them,” he whispered. “Almost as much as I love you.” 
Lyall smiled, resting his forehead against Ajay’s. “That’s a lot then?” 
Ajay laughed. “Definitely a lot.” He cradled Lyall’s hand that held the rings in his own. “Janu, this is such a beautiful idea. I love the idea of being so committed to you.” 
Lyall beamed. “So you want to wear them?” 
“Absolutely. Here, let’s put them on.” 
“Wait, I have to ask you properly!” Lyall scrambled to his knees on the bedspread and held up one of the rings. “Ajay Bhandari, will you promise to marry me someday?” 
Ajay’s cheeks were starting to hurt from how much he was smiling. “I will.” He took the other ring from Lyall. “And will you, Lyall Turner, promise to marry me someday?” 
“I will!” 
They exchanged rings, carefully slipping them onto the fourth finger of their right hands. Ajay raised Lyall’s hands to his lips and kissed first the ring and then the bare ring finger on his left hand. 
“One day, a ring will be on this finger too,” he murmured, flashing a smile at Lyall. “And you’ll be my husband.” 
Lyall’s breath caught. “My husband,” he repeated softly as if in awe. “That sounds amazing.” 
Ajay kissed him softly, smiling like the lovesick fool he knew he was. “It does. And I can’t wait until it’s real.” 
Angst #39 - “Maybe you should try to tell him/her that.” 
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“I feel so terrible for how I treated him. The way I just... let myself get swept along with everyone else in blaming him for the accident was appalling. Especially with how close we’d gotten before. I should have known that Lyall would never sabotage anyone like that on purpose.” 
“Maybe you should try to tell him that.” 
Erin’s wise words rang in Ajay’s ears. Today was the day. He couldn’t put it off any longer. The apology had gone unsaid for long enough and Ajay would be damned if he let Lyall go one more day without making sure he knew how sorry he was. He only prayed they could move past it and at least be friends again. And hopefully one day something more, his brain added helpfully. Ajay told it to shut up. 
Taking a deep breath he grabbed his bag, double checking the contents one more time before climbing out of his car. Immediately as though his eyes were drawn by magnets, Ajay spotted Lyall disembarking the bus, chatting with Skye. He really was gone for this boy if he could spot him from that far away among a decent sized crowd. Ajay shut his car door and jogged to catch up. 
“Lyall! Skye!” he called. 
The two freshmen stopped, turning to face him. He skidded to a stop and nodded to them both. “Um, good morning. Skye, would you mind if I talked to Lyall alone for a moment?”
Skye shrugged. “Whatever. I’ll see you in homeroom, Lyall.” 
Lyall turned back to Ajay, brown eyes full of questioning. “What’s up?” he asked. “Is everything ok?”
“Everything’s fine. It’s just…” Ajay gently pulled Lyall off to the side of the path onto the grass. “I haven’t apologised for how I treated you.”
Lyall shrugged. “Oh, don’t worry about it. Erin told me that you probably felt like you couldn’t take sides because you’re the director. I get it.”
Ajay shook his head firmly. “While that may be partially true, I should have done more to hear your side of the story. I wasn’t as impartial as I could have been. I shouldn’t have believed that you would hurt Jordan on purpose.”
“Ajay, it’s ok,” Lyall said. “Everyone thought I had done it.”
“Just because everyone believes something, doesn’t make it right. You’re my friend and I should have trusted you when you said you didn’t do it,” Ajay said. He looked Lyall in the eyes, trying to show the emotions that he couldn’t speak through his gaze. “I’m so sorry, Lyall. And even though, I know that this isn’t nearly enough, I hope that this can help you to find it in your heart to forgive me someday.” He slung his backpack off his shoulder and pulled out a bulk pack of fruit snacks, holding them out to the younger boy. 
Lyall stared at the package for a moment, then burst out laughing. Ajay blinked in surprise. That wasn’t been the reaction he had been expecting. 
“What?” he asked in confusion. “You said you liked these fruit snacks, right? I remember you said they were your favourite brand when we were stuck in the theatre.”
“Yes,” Lyall laughed. “They’re my favourite. I love them. Thank you.” He took the package and hugged it to his chest. “You’re too much sometimes,” he said, still grinning. “But I mean that in the best possible way.”
Ajay swore to all the theatre gods, those dimples were going to be the death of him. He looked at Lyall uncertainly. “So you forgive me?”
“Of course! I’m not about to let Danielle of all people come between us.”
Ajay nodded slowly. “But I still feel awful…”
“Then get over here and hug it out,” Lyall ordered, setting the fruit snacks down on the grass and holding out his arms. 
Ajay smiled for the first time in the conversation and embraced Lyall gladly. “Thanks for forgiving me,” he said, voice muffled slightly by Lyall’s shoulder. 
“Always,” Lyall mumbled in his ear. “Just don’t go doing that again,” he teased. 
Ajay chuckled, pulling away. “Promise.”
“But some good did come out of all this,” Lyall said. 
Ajay raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”
Lyall grinned, picking up the fruit snacks and gesturing with them. “I have real, tangible proof that you do actually listen to me when I talk.”
“Hey!” Ajay protested and Lyall bumped his shoulder playfully as they walked up to the school.
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thedreadgay · 5 years ago
Text
a promise sealed with a kiss
word count: 2473 author’s notes: mhawke/varric commission for my buddy @punkdeaf !!! i had a lot of fun with this one, pls enjoy some gay losers reuniting after inquisition
The sky was dark with smoke and night around Adamant. The aftermath of battle began to seep into survivors' bones, the crash after the sweat and adrenaline of survival. Varric could feel it, heavier than stone.
He figured Hawke felt it, too. They sat side by side on a fallen block, tucked in a lonely corner of the now crumbling fortress. Armor clanked as Inquisition soldiers passed to and fro, just beyond the jut of the half-broken wall. Their voices washed over Varric: someone calling for the nearest healer, cries of victory, breathless exclamations and barking orders. Words, words, words, the words of a successful siege, the victorious in the face of an army of demons—all the stories of all those people, wrapped into one like threads of a rope. All those damn words. And yet, for once, Varric had none. He and Hawke sat in unusual silence.
“You’re really going then, huh?” Was the best Varric could manage. His voice was scratchy from desert air turned acrid with death and wicked magic. He watched a tower of pyre smoke roll high, high into the sky, sparks reaching up, as though freeing the fallen to become burning stars.
Hawke didn’t respond right away. Varric tore his gaze away from the massive pyre to Hawke. His broad shoulders were hunched, his robes covered in soot. The dark circles under his eyes persisted, as they had for years now. “You know me,” Hawke muttered then, scratching his beard; “Trouble finds me no matter what. May as well try to stay a step ahead and dive right into it.”
Varric gave a half-hearted chuckle. Hawke tried for a weak smile. Both looked about ready to fall apart.
Their gazes simply held, then. Words hung on the tip of Varric's tongue that felt too terrifying to breathe into fruition. He inched his hand closer to Hawke's; the other took it, entwined their fingers. It was the closest inkling of home Varric had felt in a while.
What could he say? All those words were so much that he couldn’t pick them out, like grains of sand sifting through his fingers.
“Just, uh,” he tried quietly, then sighed. “Just… come back. Okay?”
Hawke pursed his lips for a moment. “And what about you?”
Varric remembered their hushed conversation in front of the war room, just before marching from Skyhold to battle. He remembered leaning heavily against the wall, like without some tether he would be swept away in the chaos. “I think… I need to finish this out,” he had rasped.
Hawke had been a mirror before him then, and he was again now. A world of guilt carved lines around his eyes; Varric couldn’t know for sure—didn’t want to know for sure—but he could have sworn some whisper of the Fade still clung to Hawke, a smell like lightning in his clothes; and he could see, in the hunch of Hawke's back, where the demon's echo still slithered down his spine.
“Varric will die, just like your family.”
Not on my watch, Smiley, Varric thought.
“I’ll come back, too.”
Hawke released a sigh, deflating like the world had been lifted from his shoulders. He squeezed Varric's hand, and for just a moment, his eyes sparkled in that way that made Varric's heart skip. “Call it a date, then?”
It drew a laugh from Varric, a real laugh, that felt better than any sugar on his tongue. “It’s a date.”
Hawke's goofy smile was like a ray of damn sunlight in the gloom. He leaned in, and Varric followed. Their kiss tasted like smoke, love, and dare Varric think it—hope. A fine way to seal a promise.
Varric came back from the ruins of a prophet's temple, where he saw an ancient evil crumble to ash.
Varric came back from some of his least favourite places: the Deep Roads, yawning caverns with out-of-place carvings, now swallowed beneath water and lyrium. Places hidden behind mirrors, tucked in between the physical and the dreams that were foreign to him. The Winter Palace, a snake pit built upon greed and painted over with gold.
Varric returned home. But Kirkwall was emptier without Hawke.
He rebuilt, and watched, and waited. He trembled where he held their promise, close to his heart, so pure and lethal. Varric wasn't the kind of guy who did promises. Hawke wasn’t either, he knew.
Always an exception, huh? He thought, lying alone and unsleeping in bed. It became a habit of his.
Varric knew what hope and promises did. The risk of a broken heart was a terrifying thing to hold on your own.
Yet, he held.
There was a rapid little knock on the doorway of his suite. “Serah Viscount?” A voice squeaked. “I have your mail for you here.”
Varric sighed. Even in the Hanged Man, with the drunken clamour drifting up the stairs to him, he couldn’t escape. Bran must have told the carriers to deliver to him directly now.
“Alright, come on in,” he relented. “You can leave it on the table.”
Varric set aside his writing, not for any intent to actually read his letters, but so none could glimpse a work in progress. A scruffy young mail boy tip-toed in cautiously, setting the stack on the table as though it may bite him.
Varric did a double take as he did. Sitting precariously atop the pile, stark against the crisply folded papers, was a small roll of parchment, tied with red string.
He must have been staring at the scroll, because the carrier stuttered nervously, “S-Serah?”
Poor kid. Probably wasn’t paid nearly enough to see the Viscount have a damn heart attack.
Varric smiled reassuringly, and stood. “How much you being paid to deliver my mail, kid?”
The boy shifted on feet that looked too big for him. “Uh. Five sovereigns, Serah Viscount.”
Not nearly enough. Varric dug into his pocket, and tossed him a pouch; the boy fumbled, but caught it. “Here’s another fifteen. No matter what the Seneschal says, don’t deliver directly to me, unless—” Varric held up the roll of parchment— “I get another letter like this. Sound good?”
“Very good, Serah!” The boy was just about to run out in his glee, but hastily bowed first. “Fine day to you!”
Varric watched him scramble out with the pouch clutched tight to his chest. With no one to see him, Varric held the letter much the same.
The rest of the pile lay forgotten on the corner of the table as Varric retreated to the bed. He was of two minds: to simply hold the precious paper, untie the little red string with care, and carefully pour over the words; or unfurl and take them in voraciously, like a man starved.
He sat on the edge of the bed, and his hands were so torn in what to do that they froze. Varric stared at the letter, his heart pounding.
With shaky fingers, he slid the tie off the scroll, and gently rolled it open.
I'm okay, were the first words. He sighed like he hadn’t relaxed in years, and he traced the letters with his fingertips, as though reaching for Hawke's.
Varric felt full of mush as he read Hawke's quick account of Weisshaupt. Love, fear, and relief pushed and pulled at his insides until they ground him into pulp. The words carried him through his turmoil like a light in the dark. And isn’t that what Hawke always did? Varric chuckled to himself at the thought, fond and soft.
Don’t think I've forgotten our date. My memory may be shite, but never when it comes to you, love.
Varric guffawed, a full and happy sound that melded with the din outside his door. He fell back on the bed, staring up at the words and the sigil of a hawk signed beneath them. He laughed until those beautiful words and familiar sign became blurry through tears.
Giggling like a lovesick fool wasn’t on his list of things to do today, but he was always flexible.
“Well, finally he sends word,” Aveline huffed. Though she looked stern with her arms crossed, Varric knew from just the way she leaned on her desk that she was relieved; relaxed, even. The Guard-Captain still needed a hobby. “How Hawke manages to stay alive like this, I'll never know.”
Varric shrugged with a grin. “It’s part of his charm.”
Aveline rolled her eyes, but she was smiling now, too. “You’re downright chipper.”
“You think?” Varric scratched his stubble, and his grin turned wry. “I’m only acting as sappy as you did when you got married.”
She lightly smacked his arm, which wasn’t light at all considering she was built like brick, but Varric snickered nonetheless.
Despite his elation, Varric remained apprehensive as he left the Viscount's Keep, and looked into the cloudy sky. There was still a storm brewing, and he would have Hawke by his side when it hit.
Come home soon.
Some days, it hurt to walk past the ancestral seat of House Amell. Others, it brought Varric a fond sense of joy.
It had been ransacked more than once when it sat empty after the rebellion. If not for goods, then information; Cassandra and her Seekers had been among them. He tried not to think of being hauled and thrown into the place, once so full of life, turned harsh and cold. That house was a home, he reminded himself. Hawke's home—and Hawke's home was a home to them all.
That was the joy to it, the feeling he tried to call forth when he did his part to take care of the estate. It lingered beside the hearths, in the books he had carefully sorted back on the shelves, on the stairs where Isabela carved dirty things. It seemed to nurture the people who came in and out, those down on their luck who needed somewhere to stay. I'm sure the Champion wouldn’t mind, Varric would always say.
The Hawke Estate shouldn’t be a lonely place.
It didn’t have any occupants at the moment. The last resident gave Varric a loaf of bread they baked in the kitchen, with a warm smile kindled by the fire, and left with thanks and that joy. Varric couldn’t remember the last time he'd had home-baked bread.
He ate a piece as he wandered the estate, dusting here and there as he went. Pristine places didn’t have much character that Varric liked, but he didn’t want it to go overlooked. Unused. Unappreciated.
That was when he heard an unusual creak from Hawke's bedroom.
Bianca practically never left his side, and he slowly unholstered her then, carefully creeping forward. With his back pressed to the wall, the Amell crest hanging proud above him, Varric peered around the corner, past the open door.
A hooded figure slipped quietly through the window. They turned back and held up one finger, gesturing for silence, but Varric couldn’t see who—or what—lay beyond. The person looked broad, even beneath their fur-trimmed cloak, and they carried a staff in one hand… then, they pulled back their hood.
“Hawke?”
Hawke whirled around, just as shocked, and whatever was still outside scrabbled against the tiles in the garden. Bianca hung slack in Varric's arms, as through a sliver of the doorway, the two met eyes for the first time in years.
Hawke's beard was thicker, and his boots and hem of his cloak were dirtied. He looked as though he had maybe a few more scars and wrinkles, and Varric could say the same. But brown eyes met brown eyes, lighting up with the same joy that sang through the place—Varric understood deeply then, that it was created when a family was brought together—and it was Hawke.
Hawke's face split into a huge grin, and he spread his arms wide. “Honey, I'm home.”
Varric laughed. And laughed, and laughed more, as he remembered how to move again. He holstered Bianca as he rushed forward, and Hawke's staff clattered to the floor as he met Varric halfway. They collided in the middle of the bedroom, crushed together, and Hawke's laughter joined his own in the sweetest chorus Varric had ever heard. A bark sounded, and it was Hawke's mabari that leapt after her master, running in excited circles around the two of them.
It was Hawke. Varric's hands framed his face and brought him down; their noses bumped, Hawke's beard scratched his stubble, and their kiss didn’t taste like smoke. It was hope realized; it was a promise kept; and it was Hawke.
His scent surrounded Varric, and he had the most wonderful ache in his heart that thumped with love. They kissed again; Varric's knees felt weak with emotion, or maybe from Potato headbutting him affectionately. When they parted just so, there were tears heavy in Hawke's eyes. “I made our date,” he murmured thickly.
Varric's cheeks hurt from grinning. Tears sprung to his eyes now too as they sank to the floor together, face to face, wrapped in one another. “So did I.”
Potato nosed her way between them to give Varric her own slobbery kisses, but Varric didn’t mind; he and Hawke kept laughing as Varric scratched behind her ears. “I missed you too, girl.”
She seemed satisfied with the attention, resting her head on Varric’s shoulder. Hawke asked jokingly, “Am I permitted to keep kissing him now?”
Potato's response was a happy rumble. Varric chuckled. “You heard the lady.”
Hawke's kiss, with his thumb stroking the apple of Varric's cheek, felt like home completed.
They stoked a small fire in the hearth of Hawke's bedroom. Coats and boots shed, they sat together beneath a thick blanket, sharing the loaf of bread that Varric retrieved. Potato dozed across their laps, basking in warmth and idle pets.
They talked—about everything. Weisshaupt. The Exalted Council. Kirkwall. Tevinter. What was yet to come.
“You're collecting another loaf in your beard,” Varric interrupted, his lips quirking up at the mess of crumbs.
“Snacks for later,” Hawke said without missing a beat.
“You’re such a damn dreamboat.”
“Of course I am. Only the finest man about for me.”
“We ruggedly handsome do tend to flock together, don’t we?”
“Don’t forget gentlemanly.”
They grinned at each other. He could taste the earthy bread on Hawke's lips.
“So,” Hawke murmured, “ready to help save the world, love?”
Varric sighed. “It’s always us in the thick of it, huh?”
“Seems that way.” Hawke kissed a crumb from the corner of his mouth. “But we'll be in it together, hm?”
Varric held him like close wasn’t close enough. Against all the odds that kept him up at night, they were reunited in their home—and Varric knew he could take on anything. “You bet we will.”
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sunwentdownoverpompeii · 5 years ago
Text
Notting Hill Reddie AU
So Richie and Stan co-own a small bookstore in NYC (Containing mainly bird related books even though they are in NYC and the only birds are pidgins)
- Eddie is a very famous movie actor who is just trying to peacefully shop in NYC
- He ends up in the store and he and Richie make a few dumb digs at each other before Richie realises who Eddie is (because some guy who was trying to rob Richie not 5 minutes before asks Eddie for his Autograph)
- After Eddie leaves, Stan walks in annoyed because everywhere was so crowded because apparently some famous celebrity was walking around and he didn’t have time to grab a coffee (And who really cares about celebrities anyway like oh my god get a life)
- Richie offers to go get Stan a coffee but on his way back he literally runs into Eddie and spills it all over him. In an attempt to make amends Richie offers for him to get changed at Richie (and Mike’s) place which is just nearby.
- Eddie agrees and the two make a lot of digs at each other (and Eddie’s mum) during the time. However, once Eddie leaves, Richie kicks himself because he just repeatedly insulted the cutest guy that he has ever met (and a celebrity!!)  
- Then Eddie returns because he forgot the bag with his book that he had brought from Richie earlier. He then kisses Richie right before leaving again because Richie is the first person to make him feel like a human in so long okay?!?
- This of course means that Richie spending a few days in shock because oh my god Eddie Kaspbrak kissed me my life is complete! And of course Richie watches all of Eddie’s movies
- A week or so later Stan tells Richie that he got a call from a Mr Kent staying at the Grand (Idk thats a NYC famous people hotel right?) Richie immediately calls up and Eddie tells him to come in the next day at 2
- However, when Richie arrives he is mistaken for a journalist and is taken to another room. Confused Richie goes along with the act, saying that he is from comedy central. When he finally gets to see Eddie its as an interview, and the two laugh quietly while trying to keep up pretences that it is an interview (they fail)
- Richie is then has to interview all the other main actors for the movie, and it takes him way too long to realise was a horror film about a killer clown (shoutout to Pennywise) and not a comedy at all.
- After all that Richie manages to get back inside to speak to Eddie some more and Eddie agrees to go on a date with him that night. However Richie soon realises that he had a close friends birthday, Eddie however agrees to go with him.
- The birthday is, of course, that of one Beverly Hanscom and the whole Losers club is there!
- They are all shocked that Richie not only found a date that not only could actually put up with him, but also famous af
- Richie and Eddie spend the whole night  doing their usual flirting teasing routine and Eddie fits in surprisingly well with the entire group.
- On their walk home, Richie and Eddie stop at a small comedy club where they spend the night talking happily and Richie reveals that he used to want to be a comedian before life and bills got in the way. The two kiss again that night before parting ways.
- The next day Eddie invites Richie to see a movie together and then out for dinner afterwards. While at dinner, the two hear the next table over (the bowers gang) making homophobic slurs about Eddie, to which Richie grows increasingly mad about before he stands up to give them a piece of his mind. Eddie drags him away but cant help wrecks them himself before leaving (never one to leave without getting in the final word).
- After that the two agree to head up to Eddie’s room but when Richie gets there he finds that Eddie’s wife had just flown in. Myra, being herself quite a famous actress, was immediately rude to Richie and dismissed him as hotel staff.
- Broken hearted Richie went back to his apartment alone.
- Over the next 6 months the Losers try to set Richie up so that he can get over Eddie but nothing ever comes out of it.
- Then, out of the blue, Eddie arrives on Richie’s doorstep after a tabloid scandal revealed that not only had Eddie had a relationship with a man (in college before he was famous), he had also let this man take revealing photos of him that had never been deleted.
- also that he and Myra are getting a divorce
- Richie lets Eddie stay with him and Mike and the two (excluding Mike - sorry) spend an evening entirely too wrapped up in each other. However, it ends with Richie valiantly taking the couch and Eddie in his bed.
- Mike is sure to tell Richie how much of an idiot he is before he also retires to bed. (He is sick of Richie annoying him because he is a lovesick fool okay!)
- Just as Richie makes up his mind to go and knock on Eddie’s door, Eddie appears and invites Richie upstairs, where they spend the night together. ;)
- The next morning the two wake up happily in each others arms and THE END
- nah jk we wish
- Somehow a bunch of reporters and paparazzi had discovered that Eddie was staying with Richie, lining the streets out the front of their small building and managing to snap many not so flattering pictures of Richie in his underwear.
- Eddie is mad and heartbroken because he thinks that Richie sold him out so that he could brag with proof that he slept with Eddie, and leaves.
- The two don’t speak for almost a year before Richie finds out that Eddie shooting a gay romcom in NYC for the next couple of weeks. Richie turns up to the set and is greeted by Eddie who seems happy to see him and asks him to stay around until he has a break. However Richie overhears Eddie telling one of his co-stars that Richie is just “someone from the past” and that he doesn’t “even know why he’s here”. Richie leaves broken hearted again
- Eddie drops by Richie and Stan’s bookstore the next day to apologise to Richie and to ask for them to try again (But with more sappy declarations of love and your mum jokes) but Richie refuses and the two part ways.
- Richie and the rest of the losers all meet up at Mike’s bakery where Richie tells everyone everything. They all try to convince themselves of Richie’s decision before finally Stan tells Richie that he is a dumbass and to go get his man.
- The whole losers gang end up in Ben’s car and the drive full speed to where Eddie usually stays only to find that he had already checkout to head back to LA. However they are also told that Eddie has a press conference currently being held across town.
- The gang manage to only just get there in time (with Bill almost being hit by a car in order to redirect traffic so that they could get through) and they hear one of the reporters ask Eddie how long he is planning on staying in NYC. Eddie says that he will be leaving in only a few hours.
- A second reporter asks about Richie and their relationship, which Eddie answer that he believes that they are still friends but nothing more.
- Finally, the manager calls upon Richie to ask a question. Having not really planned what he was going to say all that well, Richie apologises for being a dumbass and not recognising when he should have that he shouldn’t have given Eddie up. He promises to fight for and love Eddie more than he loved Eddie’s mum (which lead to some very confused laughs from the crowd.) and asks if Eddie believes if he could ever love Richie.
- (all hypothetically of course cause richie is meant to be a journalist)
- Eddie asks his manager to ask the first reporter who Richie heard speak to repeat his question, to which Eddie replies that he would be staying in NYC indefinitely.
- cue cheering, crying and kissing
- Eddie leaves with Richie and the two spend the rest of their lives together (also Richie finally starts up comedy again and becomes reasonably well known) :D
The End (this time for real I promise)
someone pls write this properly cause I have no skill or commitment
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perfectlyrose · 6 years ago
Text
more tart than sweet
Hunk turns up at Keith's apartment to use his kitchen as his stress baking headquarters at two in the morning.
Keith gains a tart pan, Hunk confirms a suspicion, and Pidge makes a discovery. Shiro just wants some uninterrupted sleep.
Sheith, 2.1k, light teen
part of the sweet dreams are made of this series but can be read separately
[ AO3 ]
The knocking wakes Keith and Shiro up.
“What’s going on?” Shiro whispers, pulling away from Keith to flop onto his back.
Keith groans in response, fumbling for the lamp on his bedside table. He blinks against the soft light. As far as he knows, the knock on the bedroom door could only have come from one person.
He regrets ever giving Hunk one of his spare keys.
There’s nothing he can do to mask the mess of his or Shiro’s hair or the marks he’d left over Shiro’s collarbones. He sits up and makes sure both he and Shiro are decently covered by the blankets before answering their visitor.
“Yeah?” Keith calls out, voice sleep-rough and cracking.
The door swings open, revealing a fully awake Hunk with a judgmental look on his face. “Keith, why do you not have flour in your kitchen?” His eyes flick over to where Shiro is trying to inch further underneath the blankets. “Oh, hi Shiro. But seriously, Keith, everyone should have flour.”
Keith raises his eyebrows. “Hunk, I don’t bake. Why would I have flour?”
“Everyone needs flour. It’s a staple.” He looks genuinely concerned about Keith’s kitchen’s lack of basic items.
Shiro just looks bleary and confused as he continues to slowly pull up the blankets over his chest. “Keith, why is Hunk in your apartment at two am? Am I just having some really weird dream?”
Keith sighs. “No. He does this sometimes when Pidge has yelled at him for his midnight stress baking. I heard Lance’s scream woke up his entire building when he heard Hunk in his kitchen in the middle of the night.”
“That was rude.” Hunk crosses his arms. “He threw a shoe at me before I could explain. Landed right in the cake batter, too.”
Keith turns towards Shiro. “Surprised he hasn’t ever shown up at your place.”
“I know better than to expect Shiro’s kitchen to have anything usable in it,” Hunk says with a sniff.
Keith shrugs. “Fair enough. So, why are you waking us up instead of just using my kitchen?”
“Well, to be fair, I didn’t know Shiro was here. Also, you don’t have flour! I can’t bake anything!”
“Sorry?” He scoots closer to Shiro, just wanting to curl back into him and go back to sleep.
Hunk narrows his eyes at Keith. “I’m going to the store and getting you some flour and I’m going to teach you how to use it sometime soon.”
“Fine, whatever,” Keith mumbles. He slumps down, giving into the urge to pull the blankets up to cover more of himself.
Hunk leaves the room, closing the door behind him. Keith buries his face in Shiro’s shoulder with a whine.
“Still really hoping that this is just a strange dream,” Shiro mutters as he wraps an arm around Keith and pulls him against him.
They both hear the apartment door close before falling back asleep.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Keith jolts awake an hour later to the sound of cabinets in his kitchen opening and closing and the rustling of plastic bags.
“Keith?” Shiro is barely coherent.
He brushes a quick kiss over Shiro’s cheek and extricates himself from his boyfriend’s grip. “Go back to sleep, Shiro. I’ll be right back.”
“Mmm, okay.” He sinks into the pillow and appears to be dead to the world once again. Keith can’t even hope to repress the fond smile that steals over his face.
Keith can hear muttering coming from the kitchen and sighs. He rubs his eyes and heads out of the bedroom to see what’s going on.
He barely remembers to pull on a pair of boxers before opening the door.
“Oh, hey Keith! You didn’t have to get up,” Hunk says, looking up with grin when Keith walks into the kitchen and just blinks at him. He continues putting away food, humming something Keith is pretty sure he heard on the radio a couple of days ago.
His counter is covered in groceries and a variety of pans that he doesn’t recognize. “You were serious?” Keith asks. His voice sounds like it was raked through gravel, but it’s three in the morning and he feels like he gets a free pass to sound however he wants.
“Um, yeah.”
Keith pokes at a pan that appears to actually be two pieces instead of just one. “What is this?”
“A tart pan.”
Keith turns on his heel and goes back into the bedroom to get his phone.
“Keith?” Shiro wakes back up, blindly reaching out for Keith when he sits on the side of the bed.
“Hunk’s back,” Keith tells him. “I’m calling Pidge and telling her to come get him.”
Shiro groans and buries his face in the pillow.
Keith dials Pidge’s number and is unsurprised when she answers on the second ring sounding fully awake.
“Come get your roommate,” he says without preamble. “I want to sleep. He woke me up to complain about my kitchen supplies and then went grocery shopping.”
“Hey, free groceries,” Pidge points out. He can hear the glee in her voice and vows to figure out revenge when he’s more awake.
“Why is he even here if you’re still awake?”
“Because I’m working on a project and he distracts me when he’s experimenting in the kitchen.”
“Pidge.” Keith is whining. He’s not proud of it but… “It’s three AM. He bought me a tart pan. When am I ever going to use a tart pan? It comes in two pieces! I didn’t even know pans… did that.” He sighs into the phone. “Please come get him.”
“You might as well wait until he bakes you something,” Pidge says. “Go back to sleep and call me when something comes out of the oven.”
She hangs up and Keith drops his head in defeat.
“What’d she say?”
Keith crawls back under the covers with Shiro. “To wait until he’s done baking before kicking him out. She won’t come get him before then.”
“So, we’re stuck with Hunk commandeering the kitchen until he’s done?”
“Unless you want to go out there and see if he takes orders at three AM from his former TA who’s half dressed and has multiple hickies on his collarbone, then yes.”
Shiro flushes. “Point taken. Hopefully whatever he’s making is worth it.”
Keith curls into Shiro’s side. “At least he didn’t make any comments about you being here.”
“Didn’t even seem surprised,” Shiro says with a chuckle. “Guess we haven’t been subtle.”
“Were we trying to be?”
“Not really. But we still haven’t told any of our friends we’re together.”
“None of their business,” Keith mutters. “If they can’t figure it out on their own, it’s not our problem. Go back to sleep.”
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
An hour and a half later, Hunk knocks on the door once again to tell them that he’s done baking. Keith shoots off a text to Pidge. He and Shiro both drag themselves out of bed and pull on enough clothes to be considered decent before trudging out to the kitchen. Hunk shoos them towards the table and presents both of them with slices of a fruit tart.
Keith pokes at it with a fork. “Did you use that new pan for this?”
“Yes, I did.”
Shiro flashes a tired smile. “It looks great, Hunk.”
Their friend puts mugs of coffee down in front of them, raising his eyebrows.
“Oh thank god,” Keith breathes, grabbing a mug and taking a large sip. “Bless you, Hunk.”
“Neither of you function well without coffee,” Hunk says with a laugh. “Figured you’d need caffeine before you could truly appreciate my baking.”
“Thank you,” Shiro tells him. He practically inhales his coffee.
They’re both halfway through their slices of tart and showering Hunk in compliments when Pidge walks in.
“I’m here to rescue you, Keith,” she says as the door swings open. “And to sample whatever Hunk made, but mostly to rescue you.”
“It only counts as a rescue if you come when I first call you,” Keith argues.
“I’m with Keith on this one,” Shiro puts in.
Pidge does a doubletake as she registers the fact that Shiro is there. She sweeps her eyes over the pair of them, both in sweatpants and Shiro in a t-shirt that is too tight on him.
“Did you call Shiro when I wouldn’t come get Hunk?”
“Shiro was already here when I got here,” Hunk chimes in from where he’s doing dishes. “They were sleeping. They’re together, didn’t you know?”
“What?” Her gaze snaps over to the pair of them, sharp eyes catching on their disheveled state. Keith raises a challenging eyebrow at her while Shiro focuses on scooping up another bite. “I mean, I knew the two of you had a thing for each other but I didn’t know you were finally doing something about it.”
“Did you want the details of my sex life, Pidgeon?” Keith asks innocently.
“No! Absolutely not,” she says, vehement. “Why would you even bring that up, oh my god.”
“You started it,” Shiro says, a smirk causing one side of his mouth to kick up.
“I did not.”
“Kind of did,” Hunk puts in. “Do you want some of this tart?”
“She doesn’t deserve any,” Keith argues.
“Keith Kogane, I’ve listened to your lovesick pining over Shiro for like three years. I deserve all the sweets. Especially when you didn’t tell me you and Shiro were finally dating!”
Keith goes red.
“Aw, baby, you had a crush on me that long?” Shiro’s grin is well into sappy territory but Keith knows that teasing look. Shiro’s starting shit for fun.
“You already knew that,” he says, pushing at his shoulder.
Shiro pouts. “Baby…”
“You two are gross,” Pidge says, making a face. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us, though! How long has this been going on?”
Keith and Shiro exchange glances. “A month?”
Pidge squawks. “And you really just weren’t going to tell us! Did you tell anyone?”
“We were just waiting for the right time?” Shiro tries.
“I knew,” Hunk says. He slides a plate with a slice of tart in front of Pidge and sits down with his own. “But they didn’t tell me. Just picked up on the signals.”
“Can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” she mutters. “Traitor.”
“You’re just a sore loser because the timeline means you lost the bet,” Hunk shoots back. He chances a look at the couple in question. “Um, sorry. There’s definitely a pool on when the two of you would get together. I think Allura wins.”
Shiro sighs. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”
“How much was the bet?” Keith asks.
“The normal. Twenty bucks.” She levels a glare at him. “If you’d waited until next month to start this, I would’ve won.”
“So sorry,” Keith drawls, sarcasm dripping from the pair of words.
She flips him off.
Pidge is halfway through eating her slice of tart when she sits up straight, absolute glee shining in her eyes. “Please tell me that Lance doesn’t know about you two.”
Keith rolls his eyes. “Lance has the observational skills of a gnat.”
“Please don’t tell him. I want to see how long it takes him to figure it out. He wasn’t even in on the bet for you two. It was just me, Hunk, Allura, and Matt.”
Shiro groans. “Can I convince you to tell Matt about this when I’m unavailable for him to scream at me?”
“Not a chance, Shirogane,” Pidge says, grin bordering on evil.
Shiro drops his head to Keith’s shoulder. “He’s going to be insufferable.”
“At least he didn’t win the bet,” Hunk points out.
“But Lance. No one tell him, alright? Just keep… keep being the two of you. You don’t have to keep it on the downlow or anything.”
Keith shrugs. “I’m good with fucking with Lance.”
“Sure,” Shiro says, not moving.
“This is going to be amazing,” Pidge declares. “We’ll start a new pool as to how long it will take him. Maybe I’ll win my money back from Allura.”
Keith sighs and rests his cheek against the top of Shiro’s head. He levels a look at Pidge. “We can figure it out later. Right now I want to take my boyfriend back to bed.”
Pidge scrunches up her nose. “Fine. Hunk, you ready to go?”
“Yup!” He stands and collects everyone’s empty plates and forks, quickly putting everything into the dishwasher. “We’ll set up a time for me to teach you how to use the stuff I bought,” Hunk tells Keith.
“Yeah, okay. Thanks for the food and groceries and everything but please leave.”
Shiro snorts into Keith’s shoulder and sneaks an arm around his waist.
Pidge is chattering about how fun it’s going to be to mess with Lance as she and Hunk file out the doorway. Keith hears the lock click and lets out a sigh.
“Bed?” Keith asks.
“Please. Maybe we’ll wake up and this will all have been a dream.”
Keith laughs. “Keep hoping, big guy.”
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Text
Alone Here (CB.)
A/N: HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!!! I am ashamed that this is my first gay fic, like really? It’s been a year. Annnnnndd I changed a bit of the plot, don’t hate me.
Summary: You suggest that you and Cheryl go on the couples lakeside cottage weekend to keep each other company as the only two single people there (spoiler, you’re not single by the end of the trip)
Pairing: Cheryl Blossom x Bi!Pan!Lesbian!reader whatever you want
Word Count: 3710
Warnings: Swearing, implied b*ghead and Varchie sex (it’s during the “lodge lodge” episode, you know the one with the robbery? and the murder? oh, riverdale), coming out, crying, angst, fluff, Cheryl being Cheryl, annnngst, more crying, hot tuuuuuuub, and another dash of angst
Masterlist
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It didn’t matter who you asked, every single resident of the town of Riverdale would say that these last few weeks had been stressful. Actually the last few months had been pretty bad. It had been this constant on-edge feeling that you couldn’t shake. There was constantly some sort of threat in this strange place and it was so hard to forget about it. So it was no surprise that once the black hood was caught, Veronica Lodge was ready for a relaxing week end away.
“It sounds heavenly, V.” Betty said in way that made it obvious she needed some time out of this crazy town and away from her creepy brother. I understood how she felt, I had had my fair share of run-ins with the mysterious Chick Cooper when I was over studying at Betty’s house.
Veronica had just finished describing her family’s cottage (if you could call it that, it was probably the size of mine, Betty’s and Archie’s houses combined). She had invited Betty and Jughead to come with her and Archie for a weekend in the woods, away from parents, school and anything else that could possibly cause chaos. While Betty asked Jug if he wanted to go, Veronica turned to me. I was sitting alone on one of the couches, totally fifth wheeling in this room full of sappy couples.
“Y/N, I would totally invite you, but this gonna be a big romantic getaway and I know how much you hate our lovey dovey PDA, so I just figured you be better off with a weekend away from us.” She said.
“Definitely. However much I want to spend time at the lake, my room and my laptop beat sitting in a room of lovesick couples anyday.” I responded. A lakeside vacation would be amazing, but I wouldn’t be able to enjoy any of that if I felt alone the whole time.
“It’ll be a good chance for me to work on my novel.” Said Jughead.
“Excellent!” Veronica exclaimed. “But remember, the point of this luxury weekend is to relax and unplug.”
“Luxury and weekend.” Said a new voice. We all turned our heads to see Cheryl strut into the room, stopping between Betty and Jughead and clasping her hands together. “Two of my favourite words. So, where are going and how extravagant of a wardrobe should I pack?” She asked, putting emphasis on “where”.
“Sorry, Cheryl, it’s kind of a… romantic couples only weekend.” Veronica said.
“I see, of course, my mistake. Well, have fun with your romances.” Cheryl said, clearly embarrassed and ready to leave the room. There was this look on her face that I’d never seen her with before, like her stone cold facade had been broken down for a few seconds. It hurt my heart to see her like that. Maybe that not-so little crush I’d had in freshman year hadn’t entirely disappeared or I wouldn’t feel so bad about the tone of her voice at the moment. Honestly, I was standing on the edge of a cliff ready to tumble down into the dark depths of the horribly exhausting thing we call love. So I did what anyone who felt this way would do.
“Cheryl, wait!” I called for her to turn around. I sat up and looked at Veronica, who was confused. “V, how many rooms does your place have?”
“Um, I don’t know, five or six?” She told me.
“How about Cheryl and I come, but we keep to ourselves? You guys get your romantic getaway and Cheryl and I get to at least getaway without feeling like totally losers.”
“Yeah, I guess that would work, I mean if you want to, you’re welcome.”
“Perfect.” I looked over at Cheryl. “What do you say Bombshell? You and I spend a lakeside weekend chilling in the hottub and making fun of these four and their heart shaped eyes?”
“Not idle, but okay. I’ll pack my swimsuit.” She said with the signature Blossom smirk.
During the hour long drive that it took to get to “Lodge lodge”, I could practically feel my tensions being left behind in that batshit crazy town. Even with the queen of evil sitting in the seat next to me, I felt relaxed. I call Cheryl terrible things in my head (it’s just pent up frustration) and I’ve always feel a little bad about it until she goes and does something evil. Like this morning, for example. Right before we got in the car, Archie said something that Cheryl didn’t like, so she went straight up to Jughead and told him about Archie and Betty sharing a kiss in front of her house. It made the car ride incredibly awkward because Betty didn’t want to sort this out in front of us and Jughead didn’t seem to want to talk about it all. At least it was quiet.
Once we got there, I grabbed my bag off my lap which I had just held onto since it was so light (because all I had packed was a swimsuit, pajamas and a change of clothes). Veronica had Archie bring the rest of the bags in. He looked like a donkey carrying it’s owners luggage through the desert with the amount of bags hanging off both of his arms.
Cheryl looked stunning, but she wasn’t really dressed for the cottage. In fact, when I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Cheryl without heels (not the that I minded).
Veronica welcomed us and brought us each to our respective rooms. The couples were on the east side of the cottage and the loners were in the two rooms on the west side. Each couple went to their room right away and closed the door. I started to wonder what would happen if Betty and Jughead broke up. Would we all just pack up and go home to avoid the tension? Were we really going to miss the chance at relaxation because those two couldn’t sort out their problems? Was I really gonna miss the chance to Cheryl in a bikini?
I walked out of room when I was done unpacking my stuff. It literally took one minute considering I brought three outfits and nothing else. The Lodges were rich, I figured if I needed something, they’d have it stored somewhere. Looking down the hall it felt haunted. It was too quiet and empty and that made me feel lonely because I knew that the happy couples were perfectly content to be in their rooms with each other. Me? My room felt as empty as the hallway did. So I ventured down the hall to find the only other person who could possibly feel this way at the moment. I could see Cheryl’s door open, so I walked and leaned against the frame. She was also unpacking, but she had a lot more than I did.
“Hey.” I said.
“Hello, outcast.” She said looking up at me for a brief second.
“Why did you tell Jughead about that kiss? Did one of them do something or…?”
“Oh, Y/N/N. I thought you would know by now that it’s my duty as queen bae of Riverdale High to let a student now when they are being lied to.” She smiled.
“Right… you sure you don’t just adore the chaos?” I ask, “Don’t get me wrong Cheryl, I love it too, but these guys are friends and I’m supposed to watch out for them.”
“Well, fear not. Between you and me, Jughead and Betty are a strong couple, they’ll get through it.”
I just watched her for a second. She was really pretty, I mean evil, but gorgeous.
“Why did you come?” I asked. For the first time since I had known her, Cheryl didn’t have some sort of witty comment or sharp answer ready for me. She nearly stumbled over her words.
“I… whatever do you mean?”
“When I said ‘Come with me as my friend to this romantic couples retreat’, why did you say yes? I mean, I don’t know about you, but in the short amount of time that we’ve been here, those four have managed to make me feel more alone then usual and they’re not even talking to each other.”
“You feel alone?”
“Well, yeah. It’s like when we’re at school and I’m hanging out with them, at least they’re are other single people around me. Out here it feels like I’m the only loser for miles.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, I’m alone here too.”
“Yeah, but you’re Cheryl fucking Blossom. You could have any guy you want.” She looked like she wanted to say something, but she didn’t.
“You never answered my question, bombshell.” I said, trying to change the subject. “Why did you come?”
Before she even answer, the silence of the cabin was broken by the squeak of mattress springs. Over and over and over and over.
“Oh my god.” I groaned. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. This is exactly what I wanted to get away from.”
Cheryl rolled her eyes as the noise didn’t stop. “Let’s go.” She said. I followed her down the stairs and outside onto the massive deck, complete with the fanciest outdoor cottage furniture I had ever seen. From outside, the only thing we could hear was the chirp of birds flying across the lake. It was a nice, peaceful contrast to the multiple kinds of tension that surrounded the inside of “Lodge lodge”.
Cheryl and I didn’t talk a whole lot. When it started to get dark, we decided we should go inside and get some sort of dinner. As it turns out, Betty and Jughead had made up, Archie and Veronica had gotten out of bed and they were all sitting around the living room. There was still tension though, and part of me was willing to sleep outside if it meant getting away from it.
“Fear you not though, I have just the antidote. Step one: Clothes off, swimsuits on.” Veronica said. “That means you two as well.” She clarified as Cheryl and I walked in. The next thing I knew I was gawking at Cheryl who was looking flawless in a red bikini. I had thought that I looked decent, but I was really questioning if I even looked okay as the HBIC slipped into the hot tub right next to me.
The next half hour was weird. That’s the only way I can describe it. Weird. Veronica was convinced that to get rid of the tension, she and Jughead should kiss. I have no idea where the logic in that was and apparently neither did Cheryl because I kept unintentionally looking at her and the expression on her face told me she was very pleased with the mess she had made.
After the “Vughead” kiss, the couples immediately left the hot tub, Betty and Archie on edge, Jughead and Veronica smug. Cheryl and I, we were holding in laughter. The second the sliding glass door closed and we were out of sight, we stopped trying to hold it in.
“What just happened?” I laughed.
“I have no fucking clue.” Cheryl responded. “But like you said earlier, I adore the chaos.”
“Oh god, this is gonna be a mess. What was Ronnie thinking? What was Jughead thinking? Why are straight people crazy?” I said, still laughing a bit.
“It’s in their DNA, not ours, thank god.” Said Cheryl. Wait. Was Cheryl not…? Was it possible that after all these years that I had thought she and I couldn’t possibly together, I was wrong? I didn’t care if I was overstepping boundaries, I had to know.
“Cheryl?” She didn’t respond. I looked into her eyes and realized that she knew she had slipped up. She hadn’t meant to say that, she had been laughing and not thought about it.
“Cheryl are you hiding something?” I asked.
“I think I should go back to my room, we’ve probably been in here too long.” She rushed to get out of the tub, but I grabbed her arm.
“Cheryl, you can talk to-“
“Get your filthy outcast hands off me!” She nearly screamed. It was so quiet out hear that I heard it echo over the lake, but I didn’t let go. She tried to jerk away from me, but being a loser in high school means you know how to fight, so she wasn’t getting away from me any time soon.
“I said let go!”
“Not until you talk to me!” I yelled back.
She leaned down and lowered her voice, “There is nothing to talk about. And if you ever even insinuate that there is, I will have you ruined, shunned by the entire school for the disgusting little snitch that I know you are, so let go and leave me alone.”
“No.” I said firmly. I stood up out of the water a bit so that I was eye level with her. “You need to talk. I know you do. Don’t tell me I’m wrong because I can see right through it.” I let my voice become a bit more comforting, “Cheryl, I have been exactly where you are right now. You can’t stand in front of me wearing the same mask that I had to rip off.  I know what that mask feels like, ok? It’s too small and after a while it starts to suffocate you. You’ve got it take it off and the only way you can do that is by talking to someone. So talk to me.”
Cheryl’s stone cold expression had subconsciously softened into a sad, scared one. “I can’t.” She said.
“Then let’s start with the little things.” I gently pulled her back to sit down in the hot tub. She didn’t fight it.
“I asked earlier why you came with me, you didn’t get the chance to answer.”
She looked hesitant, but she breathed in deeply and let the answer out. “I wanted to get out of the house. My mother has invited these lowly men from around town inside so that she can… comfort them. In exchange for money.”
I was shocked. Cheryl had not once mentioned her home life to me or anyone else as far as I knew. “That’s horrible. No mother should be doing something that disgusting, especially with their child in the house.”
“There’s no stopping it, she thinks it’s the best way to make money and we need it.”
“That doesn’t make it right.”
“I know.” She sighed.
“I understand why you came with us now. Staying in the woods with a group of losers is better than that.”
“I don’t think your losers.”
That came as a surprise to me. “Really?”
She shook her head. “Also, my mother is not the only reason I sprung at the opportunity to come with you.”
“What’s the other reason?”
“I wanted to spend time with you.”
My heart rate sped up instantly. “Why?”
She stared into the water with a slight smile on her face. It was a sad one, but it was there. I could practically see it in her eyes, she was screaming for me to ask her the right question. I knew because that had been exactly the way I was when I was in the closet. I would answer the question without hesitation, but only if somebody asked it.
“Cheryl, do you like girls?”
“Yes.” She answered simply.
“Does anyone know?”
“My mother does. She thinks it’s unnatural.”
“Do you think she’s right?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes I think that it’s in my head and that I need help, but other times, I know she’s wrong. I know that this is me and she just can’t see it.” Tears started to pour down the redhead’s cheeks. I wanted to reach out and wipe them away. I wanted to kiss the places where they had been and tell her that she never had to be this sad again, but I wasn’t exactly sure where I stood with her right now. I mean we weren’t friends exactly, sort of just classmates. But after this, could ever just go back to the way it was? She was upset and I didn’t want to make it worse, so I opted for something a little less intimate then practically confessing my love. I grabbed one of her hands in both of mine as she rested the other one of hers against her forehead and cried.
“I wish your mother could see you. I wish that she was better to you, Cheryl because you deserve so much better. The fact she doesn’t understand, that she’s not willing to try, that just shows that she doesn’t deserve you. You will be so much better off without trying to live up to her standards, you’ll be better off once you know that you’re already above them, so high above that she can't even see you anymore.”
Her tears didn’t stop, but they slowed as she looked up at me. Even upset, I was sure I had never seen anyone as beautiful in my life. My heart just kept getting faster as this look of pure adoration and thankfulness reached Cheryl's eyes.
“I… there’s still one more thing I need to tell you.”
“What?” Just as I asked the question, the bubbles in the hot tub ceased and water became still. We had been in here an hour. “Do you want to get out and get dressed and then we can talk?” I suggested.
“Sure.” Cheryl said and I got up and grabbed two fancy towels off a stack that Veronica had brought out earlier. I tossed one to Cheryl and we went inside. We heard the bed springs the second we opened the door, making us both groan in frustration.
“Again? For fuck’s sake.” I pulled the towel over my ears.
“Those two need to learn to keep it in their pants when they’re in a house full of people.”
“Damn it, you can still hear them from the living room.” Veronica said, walking down the stairs with Archie right behind her.
“Wait a smoking hot second.” Said Cheryl, who apparently had a hidden talent for being able to hide how she was actually feeling like she was up for an Oscar. “That’s the mystery detective duo up there? And here I thought they skipped sex ed. class.”
“Don’t be nasty, Cheryl, what they do or don’t do in the bedroom is none of our business.” Ronnie said.
“Yeah, until we’re the audience to the audio.” I added. “By the way, the walls in your room are just as thin, so think about it before history repeats itself.”
Cheryl and I left the wide eyed couple at bottom of the stairs as we went to change and dry off. I sat in my pajamas on the edge of my bed, not really sure what to do. I could hear Betty and Jughead, now downstairs, talking and laughing with Archie and Veronica. I couldn’t hear Cheryl. At the moment, she was the only one I cared about, so I went to her room where I found her doing exactly what I had been; sitting on the edge of her bed, not sure what to do.
I knocked on the door frame, “Wanna talk?” I asked.
“Not particularly, but I’m sure you won’t let it go.” She didn’t say it in the usual sassy, stone cold Blossom tone, but in a sad, broken down one.
“If you really don’t want to, I’m not gonna make you.” I told her.
She took a deep breath. “No. I need to talk to somebody and I’m pretty sure that if I don’t do it now, I never will.”
“Okay.” I walked over to the bed and sat down. I instinctively grabbed her hand before I remembered that Cheryl Blossom hates it when people try to comfort her or show sympathy. But she didn’t tell me off or rip her hand away, so I let mine stay there. “So what did you want to tell me? Before we got out of the hottub?”
She wouldn’t look at me and I saw a couple of silent tears roll down her cheeks. I stayed silent as well, giving her as much time as she needed.
“I realized that I was bi about six months ago because I started to have feelings… for…”
“For another girl.” I finished her sentence so that she didn’t have to. She nodded her head.
“...for you.” She added. Okay, my heart actually stopped this time. It had been beating so fast that it actually just stopped for a second. I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me, it was too much.
“I’m sorry.” Cheryl said. No, no, no, this was not a mistake, I needed to tell her that. I told myself to breath again.
“Cheryl, you have nothing to be sorry for. You have no idea how much you mean to me, how much it means to me that you just said all of that, that you’ve told me everything that you have tonight.” I reached up to brush some loose strands of hair out of her eyes. I wanted to be able to see them when I talked.
I didn’t get the chance to though, because Cheryl leaned in and kissed me before I could tell how embarrassingly long I had had a crush on her. That was probably a good thing. She tasted like cherry chapstick, which I would’ve been expecting had I not made a point to not think about kissing her this past year. I guess there wouldn’t have been any point to imagining it considering it would never have ever even compared to Cheryl actually kissing me.
The hand I had been pushing her hair back with ended up on the side of face, the other still holding onto one of hers. She used her free hand to pull me closer to her and we only stopped kissing for a second before I pulled her back to me, both of us laughing a bit at just how much we wanted to be here, holding each other. That’s how I knew.
I wasn’t alone here.
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Taglist (All stories): @nerdyandexhausted @runs-with-sciss0rs @kapolisradomthoughts
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boopboopbichie · 7 years ago
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First kiss // Reddie
((ok I wrote this at 3 am, kinda tipsy but I live for this ship so here’s something))
Richie knocked on the door and took a few steps back, while waiting for Eddie or his mom to open up. He was picking him up so that they could go to a party. The other losers were probably already there, but Eddie had asked Richie to pick him up a little later because of his mom. She wanted him to do a lot of chores and of course Richie had said yes. He would do anything for Eddie.
It was Eddie who opened the door and Richie smiled at him. “Good evening gentleman”, Richie greeted with the worst British accent ever and Eddie rolled his eyes, but couldn’t keep himself from smiling either. He would never admit this but he loved Richie’s dorky greetings. “Shut up Richie. Let’s just go”. Richie grinned and nodded.
They were in Richie’s car on the way to the party and Eddie couldn’t stop sneaking glances at Richie. He looked so good when driving. So confident. He had grown up handsome. His hair had grown out and started getting curly and he had ditched the Hawaiian shirts and now wore overzised ripped jeans and band tees. Eddie thought he was beautiful. But he would never ever tell him that. Even if he wanted to. Nobody knew that he was gay and nobody was ever going to find out. Richie looked over at Eddie and caught him staring at him. Eddie blushed and looked out of the window. He could practically feel Richie’s grin but Richie didn’t comment on it. Because Richie was too busy blushing himself. Eddie had been looking at him. He had probably looked stupid, breathing through his mouth or something. Richie took a deep breath and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “I actually have a song I want you to hear Eds”, her said and Eddie looked at him. “Don’t call me that asshole”, Eddie said but couldn’t help but smile. Richie wanted to show him a song. He had listened to a song and thought about Eddie. The thought made Eddie’s heart beat really fast. Richie laughed and turned on the music. Just what I needed by the cars started playing and they listened to it in silence. Richie silent because he was nervous about what Eddie was going to think. Eddie silent because he wanted to listen to the lyrics. When the song ended they were at the house and Richie had done this on purpose. He didn’t want to have to talk to Eddie after he showed him the song so he turned off the car and looked at Eddie with a smirk. “You ready to go have a blast Eddie spaghetti?”, he asked and Eddie who was too busy overthinking why Richie had thought about him when listening to that song just nodded, not even bothering to get mad about the nickname.
Eddie was dancing with Stan and laughing. He was having the time of his life. He was drunk. He hadn’t even had that much to drink he was an obvious lightweight. Richie wasn’t drunk. He had to stay sober since he had to drive. He would have gotten drunk if he just had to drive himself home, but he had promised to drive Eddie too and he would never do anything that could potentially put Eddie in danger. He was watching Eddie dance with a huge lovesick grin on his face, hoping no one noticed how hearteyes he was. At some point Eddie looked over at Richie and his smile grew. He walked over to him and almost fell over a couple of times. Richie stood up to wrap his arm around him for support. “Hey there Eds. You good?”, he laughed and Eddie rolled his eyes. “I’m fine Rich”, he slurred and Richie grinned. “You’re wasted Eddie”. Richie then got an idea. “What do you say we get out of here? I have something I want to show you”, he said and Eddie’s heart started beating fast again. He was having a good time but he could never say no to Richie. He just nodded and let Richie guide him out of there and help him into his car.
They had been driving for about thirty minutes, singing along to sappy pop songs from the top of their lungs. Richie had stopped singing and was admirering Eddie singing the lyrics to Africa. Eddie looked so carefree. So cute. His heart melted. “Where are we going?”, Eddie suddenly asked and Richie winked at him. “You’ll see Eds”.
Richie stopped the car on top of a hill that had a great view over the city and Eddie’s cheeks hurt from smiling. He looked at Richie who opened the door and followed his lead, hopping out. “We are here Eds”, he announced and Eddie looked at him with a smile. “It is beautiful Richie. Wow”, he said and Richie nodded. “That’s what your mom said last night”, Richie said and Eddie slapped his arm. “You’re an asshole Tozier”, he said and giggled. He was still pretty intoxicated.
They ended up laying on the roof of the car, listening to music, smoking cigarettes for hours. Eddie drank half a bottle of vodka and Richie watched him. Eddie never wanted it to end. Richie never wanted it to end. But Eddie had to be home before his mom woke up and when their watches said 4 am Richie drove Eddie home and when he stopped the car neither of them said anything. Eddie was really drunk. Everything was spinning. But for some reason he could see Richie clearly, as the only thing. “Thank you”, Eddie then mumbled and Richie looked at him confused. “For what?”. “Tonight. I had so much fun”. Richie blushed and pushed up his glasses. “Of course Eds. I had fun too”. Then silence again. Neither of them made any movement until Eddie grabbed Richie’s face and pressed his lips against the taller boy’s. Richie was schocked at first but then melted into the kiss. Richie had been waiting for this moment since they were thirteen and never in his 17 years had he ever felt such happiness. Eddie’s lips tasted like vodka and cigarettes and Richie smiled against the younger boy’s lips. To Eddie this was exactly what he had ever thought it would be. He felt such warmth and it felt so right. They then pulled apart and looked into each other’s eyes. “Goodnight Richie”, Eddie then said and hopped out. He couldn’t stop smiling. He was a mess as he stumbled through the door and up to his room. He threw up before passing out. Not because of the kiss obviously but because of the alcohol and nicotine. Richie sat in his car for what seemed like hours but was only fifteen minutes. He wasn’t smiling. He was crying. Because Eddie had been drunk. Very drunk. Plus high on nicotine. Richie, being used to cigarettes was completely sober and he felt his heart break into a million pieces as he realized that Eddie probably wouldn’t even remember their kiss. To Richie it had meant everything. To Eddie it had probably just been a drunken mistake.
When Eddie woke up the next morning he felt really sick. He didn’t remember much from last night, except the kiss. He smiled and found himself touching his lips. They had kissed. Eddie burried his face in his pillow and giggled. He spend his Sunday nursing his hangover as he counted the minutes till he got to see Richie again.
Richie spend his Sunday crying and reading comics. He had no intention of going to school the next day. He couldn’t bear looking at Eddie, knowing he wouldn’t remember their kiss. It would break him. And even if Eddie could remember, Richie was convinced he would remember it as a mistake. He would die if he saw the disgust in Eddie’s eyes.
-
Eddie opened his locker and took out his math book. Stan then came over. “Good morning Eddie”, he greeted and Eddie smiled at him as he shut his locker. “Hi Stan”. His voice was way too cheerful. “Wow. Someone’s in a good mood today”, Stan laughed and Eddie nodded. “It’s a beautiful day. Have you seen Richie?”. Stan shook his head and Eddie frowned a bit. “Hmm. I’ll go find him. See you later Stan”. But Eddie never found him. Beverly told him that Richie hadn’t come to school today and that he had snapped at her in the phone when she tried calling his house. Richie didn’t go to school the next day either. Or the day after that and Eddie was getting worried. He has tried calling several times and he had even gone to his house, but it was like Richie was avoiding him, because when he talked to the other losers they said that Richie picked up the phone when they called. He started thinking that it was because of the kiss and he got scared that maybe he had misread Richie. He had showed him that song and that’s when Eddie thought that maybe he liked him back. And then he had taken him to the hilltop and he had been so sweet. Sure, Eddie had been really drunk but he remembered everything that had to do with Richie. But Richie had kissed back? Or maybe he hadn’t had a choice. Eddie had practically forced himself into him. He suddenly felt really embarrassed. So he decided to go apologize.
After school he went to Richie’s house and started throwing pebbles at his bedroom window. He knew Richie didn’t want him to knock the door.
Richie had been moping around ever since Saturday. He had cried a lot too. It felt awful to avoid Eddie but he just couldn’t face him. The kiss had meant the world to him and he never wanted the confirmation that it had meant nothing to Eddie. So this was the only way. He was laying in his bed with his headset listening to way too loud music. So he didn’t hear the pebbles that hit his window.
After some time Eddie got tired of being ignored so he went to the shed where he knew Eddie’s dad kept a latter and brought it to Richie’s window. He knew it was risky and he didn’t dare thinking about what would happen if he got caught. So he just climbed the latter before he changed his mind. Luckily the window was open and he climbed in. Richie was on the bed with closed eyes and Eddie could hear the music from where he stood. He rolled his eyes but stood there watching Richie for a little while. He looked so troubled. And his cheeks were a faint pink like he had been crying. Oh no. Had he been crying? Suddenly Eddie felt awful and he walked over to Richie’s bed. Richie felt someone touch his arm and he jumped while ripping his headset off. His eyes met Eddie’s and he threw himself back onto his bed. “Holy shit Eddie! How did you get in here?”, he breathed and Eddie blushed. It felt silly to say he climbed through the window but that was the truth. “You didn’t hear when I threw pebbles on your window so I found your latter and let myself in”, he mumbled and looked down. Richie’s eyes widened and he sat up again. It felt so good to see Eddie again but he was also terrified. “What are you doing here Eddie?”, he asked and Eddie noticed that he kept using his real name. He frowned and shrugged. “You’ve been avoiding me since Saturday and I’m tired of it”, he simply said and sat down on Richie’s bed. Richie sighed and looked at his hands. “Yeah..”. Some time passed where neither of the boys said anything. “Why?”, Eddie then asked  and furrowed his eyebrows and looked at him. “Huh?”. “Why have you been avoiding me? Does it have anything to do with what happened Saturday, because if so I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to do it”, Eddie rambled and Richie felt his heart break all over again.
I didn’t mean to do it. Those words felt like a punch to Richie’s stomach and he couldn’t take it anymore.
“Gee thanks Eddie. That helps a lot”, he snapped and Eddie looked at him with wide eyes. Of course he thought Richie was mad about the kiss and he stood up. “Richie please. I was really drunk and I didn’t know what I was doing”. Lies lies lies. Richie stood up also, tears threatening to fall any moment. “See that is exactly why I’ve been avoiding you, you dipshit! That kiss meant everything to me. Everything. And you confirming that it was a mistake was what I was trying to avoid. You don’t just go around kissing people if you don’t like them asshole!”, Richie yelled and Eddie raised both eyebrows. He was shocked. Richie liked him? He thought Eddie had kissed him as a drunken mistake? He felt awful now. “Richie..”, he tried but Richie cut him off. “It’s fine if you don’t like me Eddie, I can’t change that but I’m head over heels for you and even if that kiss meant nothing to you it did to me and I don’t want to see you right now so please get out of my room”, he sighed and turned his back on him, tugging on his curls. Eddie didn’t realize that he was crying before now and before he could think any further about it he had grabbed Richie’s shoulder, turned him around and pressed his lips against his. Richie was taken aback and he didn’t return the kiss. He was so confused. Eddie had just said that he didn’t know what he had been doing on Saturday and now he was kissing him again. Was he drunk? When Eddie pulled away he wiped away some tears from Richie’s cheek. “Richie I haven’t been able to think about anything but that kiss since Saturday. I was so excited to see you Monday because I thought maybe something could happen between us. The kiss wasn’t just a drunken mistake I swear. The alcohol just helped me man up so that I could kiss you. It was the happiest moment of my life Richie. I’m so in love with you”, he said and pressed his forehead against Richie’s. Richie started sobbing and wrapped his arms around the smaller boy’s waist. Eddie hugged back and they stood there for god knows how long and somehow ended up cuddling in Richie’s bed, listening to music.
“Eds?”, Richie mumbled into Eddie’s chest. “Don’t call me that”, Eddie replied, his eyes still closed. Richie ignored this and looked up at the boy whose arms was wrapped around him. “I always thought I’d be the one climbing through your window”. Eddie chuckled and opened his eyes to look down at Richie. “Yeah? Well. I bet you never thought I’d kiss you either”. Richie’s lips turned up into a wide grin and he pecked Eddie’s neck. “Nah. But I’m so used to kissing your mom, so I already knew what it would feel like”, he whispered eating a slap to the side of his head from Eddie. “You’re unbelievable”. “Hmm. But you like it Eddie spaghetti”. “Can’t say I don’t”.
And the two boys laid there the whole night, sharing innocent kisses and giggles. And in that moment they both felt like life couldn’t get any better.
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quillerqueen · 7 years ago
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Daredevils
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This was supposed to be (for the most part) a playful little piece. Until it wasn't. It was also supposed to be edited before posting, but that was before I ran out of time. Apologies on both accounts.
TW: child abuse.
"Jewels for a jewel," Robin smirks as he hands Regina the newest treasure never to be passed on to the poor and needy.
Another corny confession they'll laugh at, another in a long line of sappiness coated in thick layers of sarcasm.
She loves it.
She loves him.
But those three big little words have yet to pass between them, and Regina waits. She wants Robin to speak them first. Not because she's afraid (she is, if only a little) or because she doesn't yearn to seize every moment (she does, and more than a little); but because she wants him to be ready, wants to let him take that step in his own time, without feeling pressured to.
And so she smirks back, arches a brow at him, curls her lips in mock disdain to mask the lovesick grin tugging at the corners of her mouth, and reaches for the necklace only to have it snatched from her fingertips at the very last moment.
"Hey," she protests. "Is that any way to treat your queen?"
"Does my queen perchance require assistance putting this unworthy trinket around her exquisite regal neck?"
She can't help it—her barely contained smile blooms into a full grin, and laughter bubbles out of her at his over-exaggerated antics.
"You spoil me so," she purrs as he gathers her hair and sweeps it over one shoulder, combing through it just once like one who just can't help himself, before he fastens the clasp.  
"Why thank you, good sir," she flirts shamelessly, and his chuckle resonates against her spine where his chest is pressed close. "May I present you with a token of my appreciation in turn?"
Regina slips from his embrace and turns, throwing him a saucy wink as she reaches down her corset. Robin's eyes, dancing with amusement until then, immediately darken, and Regina almost snorts as she coaxes the enamelled dagger from where it’s cradled between her breasts.
Robin blinks, fixating on the blade warm from body heat so much she needs to practically dangle the rest of her bounty in his face.
"Got the matching earrings, too. Admit defeat, Thief—and pay up." Unlacing her boots, she leans back on the chaise and wiggles her toes at him.
Robin shakes his head and clears his throat.
"You know this isn't the slightest bit fair, Your Majesty," he says hoarsely as he settles to rub her feet.
"Why are you such a sore loser?" "Why won't you admit your magic gives you an unfair advantage?"
"I can beat you without magic," she throws back without batting an eye.
Continue on FF.net 
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