#pretend I didn’t spend a full hour trying to find a reference for his hands
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sonicexelle-junkary · 2 years ago
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HH, have you ever regretted eating anyone before?
Not as in felt bad about it, but they tasted so bad that if you ever got the chance again, you'd rather eat your own arm or something
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The only time he’s had a bad meal is when he got food poisoning afterwards (because he doesn’t cook his fucking food often enough)
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noodyl-blasstal · 2 years ago
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29 with barry!
“I’m only a little dead. It’s not that big of a deal” from Monster Mash Prompts by @juicywritinghoard
Time is a construct (sorry for the delay! I was in deadline hell, and then I wanted it to be good, and then I forgot how to write for a while in there, but @ceilingfan5 reminded me.) Am I done with the vampire AU? Absolutely not (the one below comes first).
__________
Lup had always liked night shifts. They were wrapped in a softness that daylight hours weren’t. Everyone was a bit sleepier, a bit calmer, grateful that they had somewhere to go. When she and Taako blew into town and saw the near-ish all night diner was hiring, they snatched the jobs up. Taako cooked, Lup served, they studied through the lulls, and got at least one square meal per shift (plus whatever Taako could squirrel away into his layered coats and cardigans). It wasn’t like their other work paid well, or at all. Walking home in the early hours had its benefits too; they made sure to take the long way, the less safe way, the dark-alleys-and-unlit-streets way. Better them than someone else - they knew what they were doing, they knew why they were doing it.
Training was quick, Day-Shift-Carole was ‘impressed by their ingenuity’. Lup and Taako were grateful for mass production. Same coffee pot, same griddle, different city. She talked them through the till, the exact place to tap on the days it decided not to open, and the sticky keys that needed coaxing. She talked them through the regulars too, Lup’s favourite was Barry. He came in three nights a week, drank coffee, read books, and took a lot of notes. It turned out that he read about astrophysics, didn’t drink the coffee he ordered, and was definitely a vampire. Lup should have staked him by now. She was going to! That first night, she was going to, but then he’d noticed her looking at his hands (he must have been buffing his nails down every night to hide the points) and thought she was looking at his book instead. To be fair, The Disordered Cosmos was on her to-read list, and she couldn’t exactly kill a guy in the middle of her shift… not front-of-house anyway, so she went with it. May as well get some intel, find out why he was sitting here happy to debate theories and not trying to drink her like a capri sun.
A few hours later she knew about his job teaching astrophysics night classes (of course, could this guy be any more obvious?) at the local college, decided to hunt down his most recent publications to see if he actually knew his stuff, and had mostly forgotten about the whole ‘gonna have to kill him’ thing. She’d even been disappointed to hear the bell jingle across the door to announce another customer. By the time she had settled them and taken their order, Barry was gone, leaving a cold mug full of black coffee and a $20 bill behind.
That was three months ago. She hadn’t told Taako yet, wasn’t quite sure how. His new favourite sport was teasing her about her nerdy ‘boyfriend’ and she didn’t want to ruin that for him. It was important to let him feel joy, so obviously this was purely selfless. Plus, there was no world in which Taako decided that it was cool for her to hang out with a vampire because the dude was willing to spend an hour talking through what exactly here and now referred to and whether here was really the diner or earth or a tiny spec on a telescope some alien was using right now. Taako’d work it out eventually, but for now no one was in danger and Lup had lots to learn. 
Barry stopped in at least four nights a week. He brought her books, recommended articles, and never made her feel like her questions weren’t valuable. She baked him cookies sometimes, just to keep up the facade, it was pretty adorable that he thought he was hiding it well. Barry always took them gratefully and told her how much they’d been enjoyed the next time he was in. She pretended not to notice the careful phrasing. He was polite and courteous, didn’t even look at her ass when she dropped the sugar packets… an increasingly regular occurrence. Obviously it was always an accident, but it was important research to know what his motives were. In fact, in the name of science she should probably slip Barry her number, get a chance to speak to him alone and work out exactly what his deal was. He wasn’t like any of the vampires she’d met before, and okay, he could be playing the long game, but why? He knew her shift patterns, knew her scent by now, could easily track her home. He obviously hadn’t eaten any of the other staff here either - no one had mentioned any abrupt disappearances. He wasn’t a threat.
She and Taako handed over to the early shift staff, shrugged their layers back on, and began the longer-than-necessary walk home. Taako was in the middle of complaining about how much he smelled like the fryer when she heard the crunch of broken glass behind them. Lup kept her walk loose, but glanced to Taako, he gave the slightest nod without breaking stride.
“I’m telling you Lulu, this is not the perfume Taako deserves.” 
“I don’t know, I think it suits you, l’eau de frites. Tres chic!”
Taako gasped in horror at her teasing and replied in kind. Lup laughed casually, but tuned him out as she reached into her oversized coat pocket and eased her hand over the smooth wood of her stake. They were armed, they wouldn’t be harmed. She’d done this so many times, but the anticipation always made her nerves jangle, she fought against the urge to tense up, they had to appear unaware. This was the place she’d do it, the alley was dark and noise from busier streets barely filtered through. A slight crunch of gravel was all the warning she got, but it was enough. She and Taako snapped together like magnets, back to back, eyes cast over the alley. Nothing yet. Lup pressed her tongue against the back of her teeth, desperate to funnel the tension anywhere. She hated the waiting, craved the doing, or at least the satisfaction that came after. They stood stationary, no need to circle and search shadows. They were bait for their own trap, they had something it needed - it would come to them.
It wasn’t long before it showed itself. It burst forward and Lup surged to meet it. The punch glanced off its chin, barely connecting, but it was enough to piss it off. It hissed and snapped at her, stale breath from barely moving lungs ghosted across her face. She adjusted her stance and prepared to swing again, but it was smart enough to dart back before she could attempt a second blow. 
“Magnus!” Called a loud voice as a huge shape dropped from a rusted fire escape, landing heavily. Shit, this didn’t fit the usual mould. It was rare for vampires to work together - more so for them to do anything quite so indelicate. Lup and Taako were used to quiet taunts, violent descriptions of exactly how painful the draining would be, attempts to find some psychological weaknesses to exploit, but not this. What the fuck did ‘Magnus’ mean?
In the silent second of the aftermath, the vampire rushed Taako. Lup should have anticipated it, they both should have. This was gonna come up in training. She winced in sympathy as Taako’s back hit the ground, relieved that his head stopped short of the wall. An incapacitated meal was easier to chug than one that was fighting back, and unconscious under a hungry vampire wasn’t the place to be. Taako just had to keep himself un-chomped long enough for her to stake it properly, and he could manage that. He had to manage that.
Lup was about to lunge forward when a blur smashed into the vampire, knocking it clear of Taako. Shit. Surely food wasn’t scarce enough that vampires needed to fight over it? If they were hungry they’d be less careful, but they’d also be prepared to take more risks… At least the infighting had given Taako long enough to get back on his feet.
“Yet another fight over Taako. At least they have taste.”
“Shut up, Goofus.” Lup didn’t bother looking at him, because if her eyes weren’t tricking her the fire escape acrobat had just rushed into the middle of a vampire fight at distinctly human speed.
“Dude, get out of there!” She started forward, Taako moving with her. What did this idiot think he was doing?
“Lup, run, you need to get out of here! Go!” The second vampire yelled in a familiar voice. Far too familiar a voice. Shit. Maybe Taako wouldn’t notice…
“Hold the fuck on, is that space nerd?” Taako said, slowing to a stop and staring intently at Lup.
“No?” Nailed it. Perfect denial.
“Lulu, is Barold a vampire? A vampire whom you conveniently haven’t mentioned to me? Have you been putting off ashing this dude so you could talk science? Endangering your dear brother’s life, so you can chat comets, blather about Barlow’s Lens, gossip about the galaxy? All while I stood innocently by, pre-seasoned in the kitchen…”
“No!” Lup repeated. Trying and failing to inject more indignation. Okay, so maybe she did enjoy his company and Barry had seemed harmless. Why was it a problem for him to come to the cafe and chat a few nights a week? Taako wasn’t in any danger and it was educational. A cultural exchange! They hadn’t met such a lucid vampire before, it’d be a waste to jump to immediate murderation. Although right now harmless didn’t seem entirely accurate as he punched the other vampire hard in the face and knocked him back.
“Oh, you already know Barry? I’m Magnus.” Said the tall guy, waving quickly before he grabbed the stunned vampire and trapped his arms behind his back.“Are you both okay? This stuff is pretty scary.”
Taako turned slowly to Lup, eyebrow raised. Lup waved anyway. Magnus seemed nice, there was no need to be rude.
Magnus held the struggling vampire firmly in place. Unable to get free, the vampire eyed Barry and snarled out “Barry, you absolute fuck, what are you doing with them?”
“Oh shut up, Archibald. Stop trying to eat nice people.” Barry didn’t seem to take any pleasure in it, but slammed the stake home with an unpleasant squelch.
Magnus didn’t let go as the vampire’s form started to crack, fissures opening across pallid skin showing the curdled burgundy light within. He’d done this before then, they knew to wait. The cracks widened and the vampire thrashed again, hands scrabbling towards its chest, but Magnus didn’t let up. 
“Fuck you.” It hissed at Barry before the light sloshed free, dissipating as it hit the ground, leaving only charring chunks of flesh behind. Barry sighed and nudged them with his toe until they crumbled. 
Magnus grinned toothily, pure joy radiated from him despite the streaks of grime on his face and the ragged cut on his arm - who came hunting in a sleeveless shirt? “Another win for Team Bagnus! High five!”
Barry looked like there was a strong possibility he might be sick. “Magnus, bud, not right now. These two have just found out vampires are real…”
Taako made a loud buzzer noise to cut Barry off.
“0 points for you, space nerd. Lup, you said this guy was smart, I thought that was why you liked him. Was it actually just for his ass? I’m shocked. You were so obsessed with his body you didn’t even realise he was dead. I can’t believe my sister’s so shallow.”
Lup was going to murder him. Maybe she could think Taako got bit during the attack, if he was possibly a vampire she couldn’t be blamed for staking him a bit... She settled for elbowing him instead. “Shut up, Goofus! I knew he was a vampire.”
“Didn’t deny staring at his ass though. Interesting.” 
Lup exhaled hard and decided violence was definitely the only way to counter violence. It didn’t have to be true to hurt.
“It’s okay Taako, I’m sure Magnus already knows he’s very handsome, there’s no need to show off for him.” Taako’s strangled screech was enough to assure her that she had at least a few moments to try and talk to Barry.
“So… er, you, uhm, you knew about vampires?” 
“We hunt vampires, Barry.” Lup doesn’t mean for it to sound so gentle, so questioning, but the thought of staking Barry hasn’t been in her head for weeks now. Fuck, was this a ‘he’s not like other boys’ situation? He’s not like other vampires, he’s different! He might be undead and have finger claws and I just watched him kill someone, but I think he’s special… 
Magnus barreled into the introspection. 
“Cool! Us too! Fuck ‘em.”
“Kemosabe, half of you are vampires.” Taako was still flushed around the tips of his ears, but had recovered the power of speech.
“You worked that out, then?” Barry looked at the floor and shuffled his feet.
“Worked it out? Barold, my guy, my dude… you only come in at night, you teach night classes, you don’t ever drink anything, you’re pale as fuck, and you sometimes forget to breathe.” Lup couldn’t help it, did he think he was doing a good job of hiding it? She’d clocked him within minutes.
“I was always this colour!” Barry said indignantly.
“Of course you were.” Taako said, rolling his eyes.
“Look, I’m only a little dead, it’s not a big deal. I haven’t eaten either of you…”  Taako snorted. “...or anyone else for that matter!” Barry continued valiantly.
“He really hasn’t.” Magnus added. “Scout’s honour!” He threw up the three fingered salute.
“How’s that possible?” Lup asked.
“Has anyone explained grounding to you?” 
“If someone had would I be asking these questions, Barry?”
“Yeah… yeah, that makes sense. Sorry Lup. Okay. I have to get inside, but do you both want to come to the institute? We can give you breakfast and explain. Well, Magnus can, I’ll probably be out soon.”
“Just to clarify there, Barold, we…” Taako paused, glared hard at Lup, and continued. “...I, just found out you’re a vampire and you’d like us to come over for waffles and a chat, and definitely not getting eaten?”
“Yeah.” Magnus replied. “That’s basically it.”
“Alright, we’ll come.” Lup said. Fuck it. She’d been with Barry every day for over a month. If he wanted to eat her he’d have done it by now. 
“We’ll fucking what, sorry?” Taako asked.
“Great! Glad you’re both coming! I think we’re gonna be friends.” Said Magnus, grabbing Taako round the shoulders and walking towards the mouth of the alley. Taako ducked under his arm and spun on his heel to march back towards Lup.
“We’re not too far from home.” Said Barry mildly. He nodded encouragingly and jogged ahead to walk at Magnus’ side, crossing paths with Taako as he stormed towards Lup.
“Have you lost your entire mind?” Taako hissed as he grabbed Lup’s shoulder to stop her from following. “You wanna take his space class, so now you don’t think vampires are dangerous anymore?” He grabbed her right arm and pulled her sleeve back to gesture at the small white ridges on her forearm. “Do I have to fucking remind you?”
Lup pulled her arm back quickly. That was a low blow. She knew Taako was worried about her, that was the only reason he’d bring this up, but it didn’t stop the sting of old wounds - literal and metaphorical.
“Look, have you ever met one of them that behaved like him?” She gestured at Barry’s retreating back. “He teaches a class, has a job, sits in the diner all night, hasn’t hurt anyone. Hasn’t even looked likely to. So forgive me if I want to find out more about what the fuck is going on. I thought you believed in evidence based practice? We’ve got some new evidence, so now we’d better do some research so we can amend our practice if needed. Or are you going to be a shit scientist and just keep doing what you’ve always done?” 
Taako looked like he was going to fight, sucked in the breath to, then deflated. “Yeah. Fine. Academic rigour. Whatever. But if you get us killed I’ll haunt your ghost so hard.”
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craptsukii · 4 years ago
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genshin boys and terms of endearment they'd use
a/n: this is my first time writing headcanons and ngl i found them quite difficult to format :( i’m liking this style for now, but things might change later on teehee anyway, lemon cake update next week, i promise!
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♡༚࿐ 🇩‌🇮‌🇱‌🇺‌🇨‌
let’s get something out of the way first
diluc is not a jerk
sure, he might have tsundere tendencies but he’s definitely not as cold as people make him seem
in my opinion anyway
i like to call him a classy, but also a very private, softie
i can totally see him as someone who’d use terms such as darling, love, doll
a major factor here is the time and place
in public, he tries to seem more indifferent and will most likely refer to you by your name
however, in a more private setting, he has no inhibitions and actually prefers using nicknames!
I feel like diluc would want to really reassure their partner he truly cares about them, but in a direct yet indirect way
and calling you sweet things seems to get the message across.
listen to this while reading!
If only time could pass faster. Who knew waiting could be such an agonising activity? Such a simple but repetitive thing. Waiting for your cake to finish baking, waiting for the morning to arrive and even waiting for your lover to come home turned out to be much more of a challenge. It wasn’t unusual for Diluc to spend hours on end at Angel’s Share, but it was rather odd of him to break his promises.
A sad smile took over your features, remembering last night. Remembering his words, so sweet and benign, promising to dedicate you all of him and his time. His crimson red eyes, full of love and admiration for the person he held so dearly to his heart. His voice, so demure and nothing but a soft whisper, as if raising it would ruin the moment. The moment he shared with you in a little dark corner of Mondstadt, away from curious eyes and sharp ears. The moment he so desperately wanted to hold onto. Yet, the darknight hero was nowhere to be found.
By the time he finally arrived, your eyes were already closing. It was a gloved hand that pulled you out of your somnolent state. Yet again those same red eyes were looking into yours with the same devotion, if not stronger than the night he made his promise.
“Forgive me, love,” he pleaded in a shushed tone, “Kaeya came in and started causing a commotion and I couldn’t just leave.” he continued, his thumb brushing over your cheek delicately.
Too tired to say anything, you placed your hand over his, silently asking him to join you in bed. You had all the time in the world to discuss tomorrow... Hopefully. After discarding his black coat on one of the chairs and taking off his shoes, Diluc plopped in your shared bed, not even bothering to change into something more comfortable. Soon his arms were around your waist, bringing you closer to his chest. His smell reminded you of grapes and it completely enveloped you as you nestled into him.
“If only I could turn back time…” Diluc murmured to himself, kissing the top of your head. “Nothing will come in between us and our time together tomorrow. I promise you, darling.”
Turns out that, in the end, he does keep his promises.
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listen to this while reading!
my very polite baby
like sure, he’s straightforward
but he be treating everyone with respect
you might be wondering why that matters
well that's because i think xiao would see it as a little rude to not refer to someone important to him by their name
names play a major part in xiao’s past
with rex lapis re-naming him after taking him under his wing and such
so, in my opinion, xiao finds calling out your name way more meaningful than nicknames
although if he were to use one it would probably be dear
it’s short and he can still address you as “dear (name)”
it does sound quite formal at times though
Moments like this were rare. Usually, sleep doesn’t concern your lover in the slightest, as it rarely comes to him. Although you couldn’t help but admit how much you loved it when he did come and sleep. Cuddled up next to you was the vigilant yaksha, the well known protector of Liyue. And dare you say, it was truly a divine sight. In the wash of the morning light, his face took the appearance of an old photograph, so nostalgic, so at peace. Slowly, one of your hands brushed past his face, placing the few rebel aquamarine strands that were cascading down his cheek behind his ear. For a moment, you find yourself in perfect silence, Xiao’s soft breaths being the only sounds that could be discerned. Without realising, you started softly rubbing his back, your heart leaping at the content purr that followed shortly after.
It was almost impossible to put into words the joy this brought you. Although it was such a simple, mundane thing, seeing Xiao so at ease was by far your favourite memory with him. The more you studied his features the more your sight fell upon his lips. The sudden urge to kiss him overwhelmed you, wanting nothing more than to cherish and show your lover the affection he deserves.
If only the sudden chirping of birds didn’t scare you, barely a few inches away from his face.
Curse those birds and their awful timing! And so, you backed away, laughing to yourself in self-consciousness, thankful that no one was aware of your little mishap.
Or so you thought.
You felt your face get warmer the moment you saw Xiao looking at you, drowsiness still coating his eyes. Yet again, for another short moment, no sound could be heard.
“____ my dear” he said, his voice deep and hoarse, snaking his arms around you as he brought you closer to him, “if you won’t do it, I will.” it was then the flush across his cheeks became apparent to you. Shame you didn’t have time to savour it, his lips immediately finding yours in a sweet, dream like kiss.
Moments like this were truly worth treasuring.
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♡༚࿐ 🇨‌🇭‌🇮‌🇱‌🇩‌🇪‌
in contrast with xiao, childe loves calling you cute nicknames
in fact, he barely uses your name!
sometimes he likes to tease you and pretend he forgot your actual name
of course that’s not true,he could never do such a thing
I can totally see him use pet names such as comrade, girlie, cutie, shawty, sweetness, princess/prince, baby
ok i know shawty is kind of random, but i think he’d use kind of ironically?
I think he’d also use big sister/brother just to tease you, even if you’re younger than him
he heard teucer refer to you as such one time and it honestly melted his heart a little bit
as a side note, seeing his siblings get along you makes him genuinely happy.
listen to this while reading!
Spring was such a beautiful time. Especially in Liyue. Especially on a date with the one and only Childe, eleventh of the Fatui harbingers. For someone with such a fearsome title and reputation, it wowed you to no end just how charming, just plain adorable, Tartaglia can be. Albeit, it was only your second date, it was expected of him to at least try to be nice.
And on time.
As you waited, under that beautiful sky, a hue so gentle between cloud and baby blue, you watched each bird upon wing. It was one of those spring days with a kiss of coldness that somehow heightened the warm rays of the sun. You paused to admire the flowers, to sense their aromas, to be in the moment with their transient beauty.
“Lovely, aren’t they?” asked Childe from behind you, a shy, perhaps slightly embarrassed, smile painted on his lips. “Sorry I’m late, I really overestimated my juniors’ capabilities and I had to step in.” he continued, gingerly taking hold of your hand, kissing the back of it.
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his gentlemanly antics, although you enjoyed them nonetheless. “Don’t worry about it, you’re here now.” you reassured him, as you took a hold of his hand, already leading him towards nowhere in particular.
Another thing you liked about him. Things were so casual, so easy-going. One might call this date nothing but a hangout, but not every date has to be a luxurious five star dinner or a fancy show. Sometimes just a simple walk along the Liyue port was enough. Enough for you to get to know Childe, enough for you to like him even more.
Suddenly, Tartaglia was in front of you, his hands lightly taking hold of your face.
“Hold on cutie, there’s something on your face,” he answered your silent question, seeing as you looked a little confused. The next thing you knew, his lips descended upon yours. It was a sudden but very much welcomed kiss. A kiss that unfortunately ended just as abruptly, “it was me.”
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♡༚࿐ 🇿‌🇭‌🇴‌🇳‌🇬‌🇱‌��‌
favourite peepaw
also prefers using your name rather than nicknames
but he’s not completely against them
he finds them quite nice actually
and he actually enjoys being referred by one!
like imagine going for a stroll with him and all of a sudden you go "darling, look!"
he'd look so content oh my lord
in my opinion anyway
he’d usually call you honey, my beloved or even my one and only!
you could be doing the simplest of things like reading with him under a tree
and he'd go "you're my one and only love"
no, he isn’t aware of how cheesy it sounds.
listen to this while reading!
Who knew the God of contracts could be such a romantic? Usually, Zhongli wasn’t a big fan of fancy, elaborate dates. He’d usually say something along the lines that “spending time with you was enough for him to feel like the richest man in the world”, which he technically was even without your presence. But, quite frankly, it was because he lacked the funds to do so that he didn’t pamper you every moment of the day.
So when you found yourself face to face with an array of different foods, meticulously prepared and arranged on a soft picnic blanket, you couldn’t help but wonder —
“Why the sudden change?” you asked, sitting down on the plush cover, to which Zhongli only chuckled.
“Am I not allowed to change my mind?” he replied in a teasing tone, flopping next to you.
“Oh, you are more than welcome to do so,” you winked, pouring some tea for both of you. It smelled like chamomile, “I was just trying to say it’s a nice change.” you continued, taking a few sips of your tea.
Zhongli only hummed, content with your response. Sometimes, sitting in silence, all while eating delicious brunch foods and drinking sweet tea, was much more enjoyable than small talk.
And so, you spend the rest of the day with your lover, basking in the sunshine and each other’s company. In his embrace, there was something so right, something that felt right, smelt right. You let your body sag, your muscle become loose. In that embrace you felt your worries loose their keen sting and your optimism raise its head from the dirt.
“You’re so beautiful, my beloved,” he whispered, cupping your face and kissing you gently.
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♡༚࿐ 🇰‌🇦‌🇪‌🇾‌🇦‌
avid user of nicknames
partially because he finds them cute
and partially because he loves teasing you
he’d use them in public and try to get a reaction out of you
like let’s say all of a sudden kaeya is back hugging you, pampering your neck with kisses
saying something like “what’s wrong, baby?”
he’d also use hot stuff, sweet cheeks, gorgeous, handsome, cutie pie, treasure
sometimes they’re really sweet, other times they’re really silly
side note, i feel like this one got a little out of hand sorry yall i lowkey can’t take kaeya seriously
listen to this while reading!
There was something so heavenly about a kiss in the rain, a tender moment that just wouldn’t wait. It was that burst of love that is expressed, not caring if the water soaked through to chill the skin. You felt yourself gasping for air as Kaeya’s lips left yours, doe like eyes searching for his. Behind that brilliant shade of blue sparkled a glacial attraction. So complex and mysterious, it was magnetic. It made you want him even more.
Upon seeing your dazed state Kaeya smiled, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. His hands found yours. “Let’s get you of here before you catch a cold.” he said, leading you down the streets of Mondstadt. It was the middle of August, and you got caught in nothing more than a summer rain. You weren’t even cold, but alas you let it slide, enjoying seeing Kaeya worry about you, even if it wasn’t as serious as he made it seem.
There is something about a rain-washed pathway that invites playful feet, that says each new step will be rewarded with a splash. And soon, you found yourself splashing around, making the most out of this accidental rain shower.
The moment you finally reached your home, Kaeya wasted no time, his arms already wrapped around you in a tight embrace. Yet again, a gasp escaped your mouth, Kaeya’s cold lips leaving goosebumps behind each carefully placed kiss on your neck.
“You know what’s the best way to get warmed up, treasure?” he asked, his hands ghosting over your hips.
You shook your head softly, awaiting his answer.
“A good old dance party!” he exclaimed, spinning you around as he started humming a cheerful. “Nothing gets the blood going like a little movement!” it was obvious he found great pleasure in seeing your more than confused, if not disappointed, expression. Still, he paid you no mind and continued dancing with you all while singing a cheery melody.
It was quite save to assume there was never a boring moment with this man.
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♡༚࿐ 🇦‌🇱‌🇧‌🇪‌🇩‌🇴‌
my favourite elevator boy
doesn’t love nicknames but doesn’t hate them either
i see him as an action speak louder than words guy
and although he’s aware that, as his partner, you know that
he still feels sorry for not being as vocal as other people when it comes to talking about his emotions??
so cute terms like these are a simple way he can show his appreciation for you
for some reason, i think he would really like using diminutives??
he’d call you things like little star
or baby or lovebug
i think it really matches his vibe ngl
listen to this while reading!
The breeze blew warm announcing the coming of summer's hottest days. The aroma of the tall grasses were an intoxicating perfume and the starry night above was a painting more sublime than any man could create. The clarity above became reflected in your mind.
Being with Albedo meant putting up with the unholy amount of hours he’d spend on whatever research he’d be conducting at the time. And luckily for you, his next big discovery involved the stars. On the black sky above you, there were a multitude of stars and there were lighter patches, clusters of faint and bold light, the constellations altered according to the time of year. These were the same stars that greeted the ancients, the same ones that would be there in millions of years.
As you enjoyed your little midnight snack, your gaze fell upon the chief alchemist. His eyes were fixated on the landscape above him, utterly fascinated by the world’s mystic beauty. Seeing him so consumed by his studies made your heart feel warm. It was adorable to see him like this.
Your sudden yawn made both you look at each other. Albedo’s gaze was filled with compassion, and perhaps a little remorse for making you come with him so late in the night just to stare blankly at the sky.
But you knew this wasn’t such a trivial thing.
You pet the spot next to you, silently asking him to sit down with you, to which he immediately obliged. As his head found its place on your shoulder a little sad smile made its appearance on his face.
“Sorry for making you come here with me, baby.” he said, his hand drawing patterns along your thigh. “I know this isn’t your idea of quality time.”
“Any time spent with you is quality time, silly.” you giggled, kissing the top of his head. “And besides, who doesn’t enjoy a little bit of stargazing?”
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♡༚࿐ 🇻‌🇪‌🇳‌🇹‌🇮‌
ok now for venti
i feel like with him the tone he uses is very important??
i mean this also applies to the rest of the guys
but for venti even more so
he could simply refer to you by your name and it would still feel all special and bubbly
nonetheless, he loves using pet names!
i mean as a bard, he can come up with poems and such on a whim ( flashback to the signora moment :) )
so his nicknames for you always have a certain meaning or funny story behind them
oh, you love pumpkins or had an unfortunate accident involving one? now he calls you pumpkin all the time
he’d also call you things like sunshine because to him you bring so much joy and you warm his heart just like the sun.
with that being said, good luck to those pulling for him! <3
listen to this while reading!
“There you go! You’re really good at this!” Venti complimented you, observing in great detail the way your fingers touched the strings of his lyre.
Judging by the curious stares and even odd looks you’d get from time to time, that wasn’t really the case. What was supposed to be a simple walk around the city turned out to be a full concert. Although Venti couldn’t find it in his heart to tell you, who asked him so eagerly just a few moments ago if he could teach how to play a song, just how… Poor was your attempt.
A relieved sigh could be heard the moment your fingers left the strings, although Venti’s reassuring smile never left his face. “Don’t let a few strangers discourage you! Even the greatest geniuses had to start somewhere!”
“Are you saying I’m a genius?” you asked teasingly with a raised eyebrow, laughing at his flustered face.
“Let’s not go that far…” he murmured, winking cheekily.
“And here I was, thinking I could wow you with my insane musical skills…” you whined sarcastically, handing him his lyre as you continued your stroll. It was then Venti stopped in his tracks. Upon his face, shock was written all over, his expression soon turning sympathetic. For a moment, he left you alone, diving into the crowd of people, only to return to you with a single cecilia flower. Its fragrance was sweet and fresh and its color a perfect white. Shortly after, he gently placed it behind your ear, smiling to himself while looking at you.
“You don’t need fancy tricks to win over what you already have,” Venti said, kissing your cheek lightly. A cheerful tune could be heard across the street, Venti’s soft melody attracting a lot of attention, “I’m all yours, sunshine.” he said loud enough for more than a few people to hear.
He has such a way with words, doesn’t he?
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solcheeky · 4 years ago
Note
Hii I absolutely loved that one sided love angst with hyuck and was wondering if you’d be willing to write it from the other side with Jeno dating the friend without having feelings for them? I feel like he’d be the type to feel too bad to reject someone he’s close with
summary: all jeno wants to do is keep you happy. so when you ask him to be your boyfriend, he says yes because what else could make you happier? if that’s what you wanted, that’s what he’ll give. even if that means pretending he loves you the way you love him. (3k)
genre: college au!, angst, gn!reader warnings: mentions of drinking alcohol, mentions of sex (but none of it) a/n: thank you for reading the hyuck one! though I can’t lie, it’s sort of difficult to write an exact plot I’ve already written before, sorry!! so I’ve changed things up a bit! but it’s still angst though, and under the same premises :)
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“Don’t you think Jeno is a little… Hard to read, sometimes?”
Donghyuck swallows his drink hard, before placing his bottle back onto the picnic table and sending you a weird look.
“Isn’t he your boyfriend?” He scratches behind his ear then pushes up his sunglasses. “Wait, not even. You guys have been friends since… Before we even met. If anyone can read him, that’s you.”
Logically speaking, he was right.
But why didn’t it feel that way at all?
As you try to think of the right words to say, you fiddle with a leaf that had fallen from a branch of the tree hanging above your table.
“Are you guys in a fight or something?” Donghyuck steals back your attention. He had a weirdly calm look on his face for someone who was apparently concerned.
You sigh. Not exactly, “no.”
You weren’t fighting. Or at least, if it was a fight, you couldn’t say exactly when or how it even started.
Things were normal, like how they always were (you think), but there was something off about Jeno you just couldn’t put your finger on.
Except, whether things had only been like this recently, or whether it had been like this ever since you started dating but you’d only noticed now, you couldn’t tell.
It wasn’t that Jeno was directing any anger at you, he hadn’t done anything abrupt or out right mean at all.
If anything, he was doing exactly everything you ask for.
Yet somehow, you felt a sort of… distant from him, like there was a weird shift between your relationship you hadn’t been aware of until it felt too late—like you’d done all the buttons up wrong.
And how were you supposed to even begin to explain all that to Donghyuck if you couldn’t even pinpoint it?
“It’s not a fight,” you opt to say, but it comes out almost like a question. “It’s just-”
“Hey!”
Instinctively, both of you turn to face the direction in which the voice came from.
A few paces away, Mark Lee and your boyfriend were cutting through the grass and heading towards your table, it looked like they had just finished class.
You turn back to Donghyuck before they get within hearing range and mutter, “doesn’t matter.”
Except Donghyuck doesn’t even have time to reply because Mark pushes his shoulder with a strong hand, the other on the strap of his backpack, as he shoves him further down the bench to make space for him to sit.
“Move over!” The familiar, cheerful smile on his face makes you feel like things are back to normal, even just for a brief moment.
“Argh, Mark, seriously.” Donghyuck groans as he pushes his bottle and leather gym satchel across the table with him.
“What?” Mark’s laughing as he shuffles into the bench too, “I can’t sit on that side, can I?” He raises a playful brow at Jeno who was standing on your left.
You look over your shoulder and he smiles down at you.
“Hey,” he reaches down to pat you, palm warmly stroking the curve of your head before leaning down to place a brief kiss into your temple.
“Hi.” You say with a quiet smile as he slips into your side of the bench.
By now, Mark had already taken his attention off Jeno. “Why are you wearing sunglasses? It’s not that sunny.”
Donghyuck scoffs at the elder’s audacity. “The sun is clearly in the sky though, isn’t it? Use that big head of yours.”
But their bickering easily becomes background noise when Jeno gently takes the small leaf you were playing with from between your fingers and spins it between his finger and thumb.
He cutely looks at you in question and you just shrug.
So he flicks it away and slips his hand into yours instead and squeezes.
You squeeze back. “We still on for tonight?” Your voice low lest you interrupt Mark and Donghyuck’s ‘loving’ conversation.
You were planning to sleepover at his—weird to think that it was something you had gone out of your way to schedule but, it was nearing exam season and both your slots for free time had fit together like a box full of the wrong puzzle pieces.
It doesn’t take more than a second for Jeno to reply with a happy, “yes, of course.”
But a lump forms in the back of your throat at the urge to tell him you know he’s forced that answer out.
Later, when it’s already deep into the day, Jeno texts you to let you know he’ll be a little late
Although you kind of wished he’d told you sooner; you were already standing outside of his door.
Your first thought is not to tell him—knowing Jeno, the guilt would drive him crazy—and you probably would have done so that way if you were still friends. But things were different now; you were dating.
You should be comfortable enough to be completely transparent with him, even if about things as small as this.
Plus, he’d probably feel even guiltier if you didn’t tell him.
Except when Jeno does get the text, he feels even worse.
Not just because he’s left you hanging around wasting the rare time you could’ve spent together, but because it was entirely his fault that he was late.
He had managed to get off his lecture earlier than usual which gave him an extra hour to spare before your scheduled arrival time.
Usually that would mean he’d tell you right away so you could push that time earlier to have even longer to spend together.
But he didn’t.
Instead, Jeno wanted something else to occupy his mind other than you.
Was that bad of him? Probably… Maybe—He didn’t want to convince himself anything. As long as you didn’t find out why, everything would stay the same. At least that was what he was convincing himself to think.
So, Jeno was quick to chuck his bag full of study notes by his doorway, pick up some gear and his bike and immediately head out.
Just a few miles, he told himself. Nothing better to clear his mind than a quick workout, right?
Wrong.
You wouldn’t slip from his mind no matter what he tried to do.
All Jeno could think about was how he promised himself he would make this relationship work regardless of whether that meant he had to cross an ocean just to make the you that was in love with him, feel loved.
Inevitably, those thoughts eventually watered down to how bad of a job he’s been doing of it all.
It was probably bad enough he’d just referred to your relationship as a job.
Yeah, alright, this was worse than bad.
It’s just that you were so happy—the face you made when he said yes to being your boyfriend was all he ever wanted for you.
Logically, he thought that keeping things in tandem with what you expressed happiness for, would be enough to see that same smile again.
Jeno held your hand when you wanted it. He kissed you how you liked it. He let you sleep in his bed and sleep with him because that’s what you needed from him.
That’s all he ever wanted for you. So why did it feel like it wasn’t enough?
He was your boyfriend now. Wasn’t that supposed to make it easier?
Not to say that it was hard when you were labelled as friends—just that certain boundaries couldn’t be crossed and there was no way to stop eventualities of you finding someone else that would make you happy.
Jeno didn’t want that; he didn’t want to see you with another person. But the label ‘boyfriend’ on his own forehead almost felt like a burden, even though he knew he loved you. It was all really confusing.
Breaking it down, Jeno knew that you meant a lot to him. Really, he just wanted to give you the love you deserved. So being your boyfriend felt like the right choice, like it was the right thing to do if that’s what it meant to give you all his love.
But somehow becoming the ‘boyfriend’ felt even further away from you than when he was just a ‘friend’.
And at this point, Jeno was too far into this. Spending time with you was great, but it confused him. He had lost what defined the boundaries of how a boyfriend makes one happy, versus a friend.
Sometimes he even thought, what was so good about the label ‘boyfriend’? Was it worth all the things he’s done for you?
He had thought too hard and too much he didn’t even realize how far out he’d cycled; it was so far there was no way he could cycle back the same route in time to meet you.
Dangerously, a small, small, small part of him was glad.
But, no.
Jeno shakes his fringe out of his eyes and pedals faster. Just get home first, he tells himself, he can deal with that thought another time.
When Jeno finally arrives, he’s lugging his bike towards you, sweat dripping down his temples and breath still a few paces behind.
“Sorry,” he manages to breathe out, wiping the sweat across his brow with the back of his wrist before he leans past your frame to unlock his door.
You bite back a bit of a laugh, “you look crazy.”
He lets out a relieved smile and you tip on your toes to press a quick kiss into it.
A surprised sound muffles into your lips when you do, like he was about to say something but you had got to his lips first.
You pull away with a scrunched up face. “Salty.”
That makes him laugh. “Come on then.” He pushes the door open and guides you in first.
After putting away his bike, he shuts the door behind him and chucks his gear away while you place your things onto his desk chair.
“I’m gonna shower first.” He pulls off his gloves and watches as you spin to face him with a small smile.
From anyone else's point of view, you looked fine. You stood tall, a sweet smile across your lips and eyes full of affection for your boyfriend.
But Jeno knew better than that.
He throws his gloves into the hamper and pauses with his hands on the hem of his top. “Want to join?”
Your eyes light up and the heavy guilt on his chest suffocates him a little less.
“Only if you want me to.” You tilt your head to the side. If he was going to be quick, there was no harm in you waiting an extra 10 minutes, sure, you can handle that much.
But Jeno only wanted it because he knew you did. He knew every minute together meant way more to you now that you rarely saw each other.
So he nods his head towards the bathroom door to gesture for you to come, then proceeds to pull his top over his torso.
With Jeno’s shoulders under the showerhead, you keep your arms resting on the dip of his hip bones for warmth.
His own hands are in your hair, fingers gently massaging your scalp and temples, with a cute concentrated look across his face.
“Turn around for me.” He slowly presses a kiss into your forehead and you hum in compliance.
“I can do you instead, you know?” Now that you’re facing the other way you can’t read his face.
His thumbs press into the nape of your neck, following the direction of your spine into your scalp and your shoulders completely lose tension.
Jeno presses his lips into a straight line and hums a comfortable ‘no, it’s okay’. He was fine like this.
“Let me do this for you.” His low voice vibrates a lot closer to your ears than before.
It almost distracts you from your previous thoughts, but his words echo in your mind once more.
‘Let me do this for you.’ You know… That seemed to be all he was doing lately...
Now that you really think about it, you can’t recall Jeno ever doing anything for himself; it was always you before him.
He was always looking out for you—maybe never directly verbal—but he never failed to show how much cared by how much he noticed about you, whether that meant lending you his shoulder on stressful days of work, or for things even just as small as giving you his pen for the day because you forgot yours.
“Jeno?”
“Mhm? Ah!—Too strong?” His fingers come to a stop at the assumption he’s massaging you too hard.
“No,” you take his hand from behind your head and turn around to look at him in the eyes.
Jeno blinks at you in confusion.
Your eyes drop away from his face. “You’d tell me if there was something bothering you, right?”
At first, his brows crease together.
But then he’s laughing, eyes smiling as he calls you cute under his breath whilst releasing the grip of your hand on his wrist and affectionately brushing the bubbles away from the top of your eyebrow with his thumb.
“What are you talking about?” Jeno presses his forehead into yours so you can look at him and see that smile of his you love so much, “Is there something wrong?”
“No…” Not with you. But if there was with him you’d listen.
He presses his lips against yours. “I’m okay if you’re okay.”
Those words were a little tricky.
On the surface, they seemed like a sweet thing to say. Yet you knew it subconsciously meant something deeper.
But, you let it slide just this once.
The next time you’re in his room, it’s a week later and a day earlier than you had previously scheduled.
But instead of cute showers together, you have his heavy arm slung around your shoulder and alcohol breath against your cheek.
“Sorry.” Jeno’s half slurring as he nuzzles into your jaw.
You kick his door closed from behind you and heave his weight against your hip more. “Don’t worry about it.” At least he was sober enough to apologize now.
You had just come back from the bar nearest your campus where Donghyuck was stupidly holding an ‘end of the first exam’ event (A.K.A. any excuse for endless food and rowdy drinking games on a friday night).
Jeno releases his arm from off your shoulder and places a hand on the wall.
“Can you get me some water?” He presses his eyes closed and manages to take a step forward.
You think the cold night walk from the bar had kicked some sense of reality into him. “Yeah, can you manage?” You reach a hand out behind his waist just in case.
But he just hums and slowly continues his way forward with his fingers pinching between his brows.
It was okay if he closed his eyes, he knew his room like the back of his hand anyway.
As you rip open the pack of water by his door and pull a bottle out, Jeno drops his jacket off his arms and onto the floor before he slumps into his bed with a sigh.
By the time you approach his bedside, he’s sprawled out over his duvet with his eyes closed.
You open the bottle for him and he blindly takes it. “You don’t usually drink this much.”
He doesn’t reply.
“Is everything okay?”
Ever since you asked Jeno that question in the shower, he seemed as if he was extra cautious about the things he said. And maybe that was just your own imagination. Or maybe you somewhat wanted him to have a secret. Maybe you subconsciously wanted a reason to justify why he acts the way he does.
Jeno nods as he gingerly lifts his head just to drink some water.
“If there’s something on your mind, you can tell me.” You want to ask for more, but you don’t want to force anything out of him.
Sure, sometimes you might find it hard to discern what exactly goes on inside Jeno’s head. But just because you couldn’t read anything off him, didn’t mean he didn’t have any thoughts.
You at least know him well enough to understand how much goes on inside that selfless head of his, despite his generous puppy smiles and lack of verbalisation.
You know he worries a lot—Less about himself and more so about everyone else around him. So you can’t help but think he’s hiding something. Jeno’s more observant than others think.
With a frown, he reaches up to put the bottle onto his side table with a nod.
Then it clicks.
“Did.. Did I say something?” He leans up on one elbow, voice unintentionally baring a touch of mortification.
“What?—No.” You press a hand into his shoulder to get him to lie down again. “No.” Really, he didn’t. That was the problem.
You push his hair away from his forehead and he sighs sleepily.
Thank god, Jeno thinks. To him, he wasn’t exactly hiding anything from you. He thinks purposely ‘hiding’ something was different to just ‘not saying’ something.
Not that he was trying to get off from this with a technicality. Jeno loved you. He really did.
But somehow this ‘love’ just wasn’t turning out the way he thought it would.
And that was something he needed to figure out for himself.
“You.. You don’t have to know...” Is the last thing he says before he falls asleep.
Did you really mean that little to him?
You thought you could be as reliable to him as he was to you.
Were you just ...not enough?
to be continued...
reply below on this post if you want me to tag you when I post part 2 :)
a/n: I think this could’ve easily been a full prose fic, but,,, I’m lazy,, also I feel like I don’t know jeno’s character well enough to convincingly write about what he’d say, think or do ;/ but anyways! thank you for this request, just the perfect thing to give my brain a break from writing my endless hyuck and mark content
also! disclaimer(?) guys! please don’t do what ‘jeno’ is doing in this fic hahahaha this is setting a bad example of what a relationship and labels could mean! in short, what I wrote about was Damage -100hp and Dumb 500hp lmfao so don’t do it (or more so wish for it👁👁)
but yeah, I’m open to discourse in my ask box as much as I was for the hyuck version of this fic if anyone needs/wants to talk about anything! (I’ll also tag it as #os if anyone wants to filter it out)
scroll through these if you'd like the read the hyuck angst discourse
or read the hyuck version of this fic here!
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eliemo · 3 years ago
Text
Little Talks
Summary: As Logan starts spending more time with the Duke in an effort to keep him under control, Remus has to come to terms with the fact that the way he treated Logan may have caused lasting damage after all.
TWs: RSD, violent thoughts, strong language, blood mention (it's Remus, what did you expect)
Pairings: Developing friendship. Can be seen as platonic or romantic Intrulogical
Notes: Thank you to @cheshirevalentine for helping me create and edit this. They're amazing and I love them dearly. Their AO3 is here!
Having Logan in his room was… weird.
Remus had known it was going to be happening. Logan had made the offer to stop by Remus’s room and let the Duke bounce his ideas off of someone. He’d let Remus ramble, listen to the flood of intrusive thoughts and gory, outrageous ideas, all so that Thomas wouldn’t have to.
Remus had cheerfully referred to Logic as his “test subject” the first time he’d come in, laughing outright at the way Logan’s face had screwed up in indignation.
He didn’t really plan on actually doing anything to Logan, despite the incredibly dangerous position the light side had put himself into. He mostly just talked, reciting each and every thought that came to his head in detail, watching to see if he could get an entertaining reaction out of the ever-stoic Logan Sanders.
It didn’t really work. Logan was stupidly boring with his stuffy clothes and perfect schedule and condescending eyebrow raises. He didn’t say much the first few times he stopped by, their “talks” only lasting ten-to-fifteen minutes at most, but after a week he seemed to warm up to the idea of talking to Remus a little.
He’d ask questions- ask where Remus had gotten an idea, or ask him to expand on a particularly disturbing thought- and while Remus didn’t always have an answer, it was nice to not be completely shoved aside and ignored for once. Besides, Remus always thought of the best answers to those sorts of things on the spot. He liked the challenge of having to think on his feet.
It was still weird, though. But Logan kept showing up, day after day, and Remus could almost pretend he wasn’t the only one enjoying their talks.
He knew that Logan didn’t want to be here, of course. Their meetings were on his calendar, so it was obviously an obligation. He was doing it so Thomas could get some sleep, and Remus could be a little less of a burden. Of course.
Remus had only only expected it to last a few days, if he was honest. A week at most. He knew he was a lot to deal with, especially alone, and he knew it would only be a matter of time until Logan decided it was all too much and forgot all about their little “arrangement”.
But Logan came back the next week, and the week after that, and soon fifteen minutes turned into twenty, then thirty, and some days he even stayed almost a whole hour.
Remus found he actually felt a little less agitated after Logan left, his head just a tiny bit more quiet. Tormenting Thomas was the closest thing he’d ever had to talking things out, and it was a little discouraging when the reactions were either horrified screams, insults, or pretending he didn’t exist.
Logan actually listened. He listened and engaged.
Remus loved Janus. And Deceit did what he could, but he didn’t have the same tolerance as Logan did for some of the gross things Remus came up with.
Maybe Logic would be open to dissecting something with him sometime…?
-
He should have known it wouldn’t last. Nobody stuck around Remus very long. He always did something to fuck it up.
He really should have known the way he’d treated Logan when he’d first made his appearance would be a problem. Logic separated himself from the Imagination, the side grounded deeply in reality, but a lack of lasting damage didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.
Remus had still hurt Logan to prove a point. And then had promptly moved on and forgotten about it until the next time it was brought up. Sometimes object permanence- or lack thereof- was a pain in the ass.
Remus had been ranting as usual, pacing around his room while Logan watched from the chair. He honestly couldn’t even remember what he was talking about, his mouth moving without much thought as it tended to do.
Whatever it was, he’d gotten worked up and excited, pacing the room, waving and flapping his arms as he talked, smile bright and mischievous and he whirled back to face Logan and-
And Logan flinched back, squeezing his eyes shut as his hands clutched the arm of his chair, shoulders hunched protectively.
It only lasted a second, Logan quickly pulling himself together and compulsively smoothing his tie once again. He seemed to do that when he was trying to pretend he was collected, Remus had noticed. His shoulders uncurled as he leaned forward again, but he wouldn’t quite look Remus in the eyes.
“Continue,” Logan said, when he realized Remus had stopped talking. “You were rambling about...something objectively disgusting.”
“I’m not stupid, you know.” Remus said, crossing his arms and ignoring the stupid, pointless hurt that blossomed in his chest when Logan couldn’t even recall what Remus had been saying. “I saw that.”
Logan blinked, staring at the Duke blankly. “Saw what?”
“You flinched.”
Logan scoffed, adjusting his glasses to avoid meeting Remus’s eyes. Again. “I did no such thing.”
“No, you did. I saw it.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Logan said, jumping right back into that emotionless facade he was so obsessed with. “Are you going to continue?”
Remus couldn’t even remember what he’d been talking about, his head flooded with images of Logan flinching away, eyes wide in terror, scrambling to get away.
Logan with a throwing star embedded in his forehead, with his mouth full of blood, crimson dripping down his forehead and chin, seeping into his pristine clothes and staining his tie. The thoughts seemed to dip into that spiral they always went down, swirling down the metaphorical drain pipe into his metaphorical pit-of-sewage excuse for a brain.
“No,” Remus said, shaking the thoughts away for the moment. Like stirring the cesspool a little so all the muck settled to the bottom. Metaphorically. “I’m good.”
Logan sighed, and Remus stepped away as the logical side stood up from his chair. “Then we’re done for the day.”
“Bye then.”
If there was one thing Remus was good at, it was pretending not to be bothered by the little things, by the way everyone perceived him. He was a terror and a burden, and he enjoyed it. It was funny! He didn’t care if he was liked, intrusive thoughts were never liked.
Remus flopped down on his bed, watching Logan’s back as he left. He was moving quickly, almost panicked, slipping out the door and closing it shut behind him.
Remus didn’t care if the stupid light sides liked him. He never had. But Logan… Logan was scared. Of him.
Scaring people was never the goal. Making Logan flinch like Remus was going to hurt him was never the goal.
Logan would deny it to his grave, of course. He was stupidly stubborn like that, somehow more stubborn than even Remus at times.
He’d insist that Logic had never felt a revolting feeling like fear in his life. He had no feelings on the matter, and Remus couldn’t frighten him because Logan had no feelings at all. Not enjoyment, not dislike, and not fear. Remus was another obligation on his schedule. Something to attend to. Nothing more.
And while Remus knew all of that was true… he also knew Logan was full of shit. He had feelings. His feelings might even be stronger than Patton’s or Roman’s. (Though it was doubtful. Weepy bitches they were- far too emotional for Remus’s tastes.)
And he was afraid of Remus. He’d made that perfectly clear today.
He… didn’t know how to fix that. His job wasn’t to fix problems. He made the problems. It’s better to start now than to never start at all, he supposed.
Well, obviously he had to start by finding a new coping mechanism. Logan was helpful, and possibly the healthiest outlet Remus had ever had, but he wouldn’t force someone who was terrified of him to come sit in his room and listen to him talk about guts and gore for an hour. He would have to find something to do in place of their talks.
A part of him doubted Logan would even come back again. Remus had caught him flinching, and with Remus’s reputation he wouldn’t be surprised if Logan assumed he would use the fear to his advantage.
And yeah, maybe under different circumstances he would have. Scaring people was fun but… not like this.
But that was fine, he could readjust to being alone. He’d done it before. He could lock himself in the Imagination, annoy Janus until he finally snapped and drove him away, maybe even pay Thomas another visit if he really got desperate.
He wasn’t disappointed. He’d gone his whole life without Logan’s company, he had no reason to miss it. It wasn’t fair to miss something he had barely begun to get used to. Logan was annoying and boring and stuck up, and Remus didn’t know why he enjoyed his company in the first place.
Not that he enjoyed it. He didn’t. He didn’t care.
He spent all night feeding himself those repeating lies, preparing to entertain himself all on his own tomorrow, so he was almost more annoyed than surprised when Logan walked right into his room the next day, same time as always.
Remus sat up in bed, watching in disbelief as Logan made his way to the chair and set his notebook on the table, settling in like nothing had changed.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
Logan looked up at him, hands folded neatly in his lap. “I said I would make an effort to see you everyday. I put it in my schedule. If I’m not going to be able to make it, I will inform you the day before.”
“Oh,” Remus said, not bothering to move from the bed. “Well, that’s boring and predictable.”
“I prefer to have a schedule rather than do things on a whim. And I’m here now.”
“Yes,” Remus said, shifting to stare blankly at the wall beside Logan’s head. He bet he could spit that far if he really tried. “You are.”
There was a beat of silence that didn’t often exist in Remus’s room. Usually he would start talking right away about whatever late night thoughts he’d been plagued with, chatting on excitedly until Logan cut in to add something dumb and nerdy.
Remus didn’t plan on breaking the silence this time, choosing to sit and quietly dwell on his thoughts on his own, smirking at the utterly baffled look on Logan’s face.
Logan cleared his throat, frowning slightly. “What’s on your mind?”
“Lot’s of things!”
“Are you going to talk about them?” Logan asked. “That is why I’m here.”
“Nah.” He hated this, hated the way Logan was pretending to care, like he didn’t want to get up right now and run as far away from Remus as possible. Just like everyone else. “Intrusive thoughts aren’t always words, Nerdy Wolverine.”
He saw Logan shift uncomfortably, eyes darting briefly to the door, and Remus realized that might not have been the best way to phrase things.
“Ah,” Logan said, sitting back like he wasn’t terrified. “You can always show me instead. That is what I’m here for.”
“I’m good,” Remus said, doing his best to sound uncaring. “It’s gross.”
“Yes, I’m aware it probably is.” Another beat of silence and Logan sighed, standing from his chair. “Remus. The point of me being here is to keep Thomas’s intrusive thoughts under control. We’ve discussed this.”
And Remus knew Logan didn’t actually enjoy Remus’s company, he’d known that from the beginning, but it still hurt to hear. It hurt something fierce, a deep, sharp slash in his chest that he would swear he could feel, that he was just something to “keep under control”.
He pushed the feeling down, flashing Logan a toothy grin that he knew looked ridiculously fake. “Okay.”
Logan sighed again, pushing up his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. Remus wondered if he could frustrate Logic into storming out. “I’m here to help you.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“You do,” Logan argued, like he had any idea. “Surely talking to someone is better than being alone with your thoughts,”
Remus scowled, shoving himself off the bed and stalking past Logan, moving towards one of the various piles of rubble and bones scattered around his room. He bet Logan hated how cluttered it was in here.
“At least my thoughts don’t pretend to care about me.”
Remus kicked idly at something that looked a bit like a spine, staring blankly at the floor as he let his words settle.
“What?” Logan sounded genuinely confused for the first time. “What does that mean?”
“Hm?” Remus glanced over his shoulder, grinning. “What did I say?”
Logan stepped forward, shoes clicking against the floor, echoing against the now silent room. “I do not understand why you’re suddenly being difficult.”
“Suddenly?”
“Yes, suddenly,” Logan said, and Remus turned away again with an eye roll. “We had an arrangement.”
“Did we?”
“Yes.” Logan touched his arm, and Remus yanked away so fast he thought he might have pulled something. “This is beneficial for everyone.”
“Right,” Remus scoffed. “For everyone.”
Logan actually had the audacity to look taken aback, brow drawing in further confusion. “Yes? You have an outlet, and Thomas gets a break.”
“I don’t need it. I can bash skulls in the Imagination.”
“Which is significantly more unhealthy.”
Remus shrugged, kicking another bone until it slammed into the wall. “It’s easy and fun.”
“We were doing fine,” Logan said, trying to move around him so Remus would meet his gaze. “I thought coming in to talk to you was helping.”
“You don’t care,” Remus snapped. “And you don’t want to listen.”
“I want to,” Logan said. “That is why I’m here.”
“Right.”
“I am incredibly busy, Remus,” Logan said, and Remus felt like he was being lectured. “I would not be here if I didn’t want to be.”
“Then get gone!” Remus spun around gesturing to the door. “Just fucking leave already!”
“I think I’d prefer to stay.”
“You said you’re busy,” Remus snarled. “If you’re so busy you don’t need to carve out time for me.”
“I chose to.”
“Thomas can live with intrusive thoughts,” Remus said. “He’ll be fine. Patton and Virgil will ease up eventually. You should be focused on them.”
“I have been.” Logan was still staring at him, and at this point Remus was considering storming out of his own room. “I have time for you.”
“I thought you were busy,” Remus argued, back to being difficult on purpose. “Which is it? Are you busy or do you have time?”
Logan sighed, and now Remus felt like a child throwing a tantrum. “I’ve made time. I’m making time for you.”
“Right.”
“I don’t understand what changed,” Logan said. “I thought you were getting some enjoyment out of our talks.”
“Yeah, I was,” Remus admitted because despite everything, that was the truth. “But you aren’t.”
It took a moment for Logan to respond, no less confused than before. “I am perfectly content.”
“Yeah?” Remus finally turned around to face him, looking the logical side right in the eyes. “Then why did you flinch?”
Logan blinked, shoulders tense, a mix of panic and understanding flickering in his eyes. “I...did not flinch.”
“Yes, you did. Don’t lie.”
It was Logan’s turn to scoff, like Remus was being ridiculous and dramatic. And he often was, but he was serious this time. “I don’t see how one involuntary movement has become such a big deal.”
Remus didn’t look away, even as Logan’s eyes began to wander. “You’re afraid of me.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Logan said. “I do not feel fear.”
“Yes you do.” Remus stepped closer, taking in the way Logan’s jaw clenched. “You have feelings.”
“No I don’t.”
“You do.”
“You’re figuratively jumping to conclusions,” Logan said, quickly changing the subject. “I am perfectly content spending time with you.”
“I’m not jumping to anything,” Remus said. “You’re scared.”
Logan rolled his eyes, hands lifting to brush over his tie before crossing his arms across his chest. Compulsory comfort action.
“You think you saw me flinch once and now you believe that I’m afraid of you, when there is no logical reason to be. You cannot cause any lasting damage to me, so I—”
Remus lifted a hand without warning, fast and sudden like he was going to strike Logan, keeping it frozen in the air as he took in the reaction before him.
Logan flinched back as soon as Remus moved, his own hands moving to protect his face, eyes glued to Remus’s raised arm, widening in genuine fear and shock.
Remus sighed, slowly lowering his hand as he watched Logan struggle to compose himself. “You’re afraid of me.”
“No,” Logan still had the audacity to argue. “I am not.”
“You flinched.”
Logan fixed his tie again. Remus knew it was some kind of nervous tic. “You startled me.”
“I lifted my hand.”
“Yes,” Logan agreed. “Unexpectedly.”
Remus sighed and stepped back out of Logan’s space, too tired to keep arguing.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” He winced at his own words, images flashing in his mind of Logan stumbling backwards with wide eyes, of Logan covered in blood, of Patton screaming. “Not again, anyway.”
“Well,” Logan said, carefully clearing his throat. “You can understand that I wasn’t exactly…sure. That does not mean I dislike you. Or that I’m frightened of you.”
Remus found himself looking at his shoes, trying and failing to get images of Logan hurt, Logan dying, out of his stupid cesspool sewage pipe head.
He wondered if this was what guilt felt like. If it was, maybe he should start being nicer to Patton. This sucked dick and balls.
“I won’t.”
“And I appreciate that,” Logan said. “But you could not cause any lasting damage to me anyway.”
“So? It still, like… hurt you. I’m not gonna do it again.”
“Well then, I have no reason to be afraid.” Logan straightened, smiling at Remus like that had just solved everything. “Which I wasn’t in the first place.”
Remus’s eyes narrowed. “You flinched.”
“Yes I did,” Logan admitted. “I apologize for that. I can assure you it won’t happen again.”
Remus didn’t move, staring at Logan in disbelief, at a loss for words for the first time in his life. He hoped the exhaustion on his face resembled a glare at least a little bit.
“I don’t… understand,” Logan said, and Remus couldn't even stay mad at him. “Was an apology not what you wanted?”
“No, Logan. I don’t want anything.”
Logan tilted his head slightly, brow furrowed, and Remus could practically see the gears turning as he looked Remus over. “You’re still upset.”
“Why’re you still here?” Remus finally demanded, throwing his arms out in exasperation. “If you’re afraid of me why don’t you just leave?”
Logan blinked, seemingly unfazed. “Because I enjoy talking to you.”
Logic may as well have just punched him right in the chest, the air leaving his lungs in a rush as he took a step back, choking out a shocked laugh. “That can’t be it.”
Logan frowned. “Why not?”
“Nobody enjoys talking to me.”
“Well,” Logan said slowly, and it was like Remus could see some of his walls coming down. “If it helps, no one particularly enjoys talking to me, either.”
Remus wasn’t entirely convinced that was true, but he figured he wasn’t the right one to give Logan a talk on self esteem.
“I like talking to you,” he said instead. “I just think you’re kinda stuffy.”
“I enjoy talking to you as well,” Logan said, and it really did sound like he meant it. “I would just prefer if your more violent thoughts were not physically manifested.”
“Oh.” Remus swallowed, absolutely refusing to show Logic how much this meant to him. He wasn’t going to cry. “Yeah, I can...do that. Sure.”
“Then I’m glad we could come to an understanding,” Logan said, right back to the stiff, professional persona Remus was learning to see right through. “I’m not afraid of you.”
Remus nodded, and realized he was actually starting to believe him this time. “Yeah. Ok. That’s good.”
Logan stepped back out of Remus’s space and Remus quickly did the same, the two of them standing on opposite sides of the Duke’s now painfully silent bedroom.
“I can leave,” Logan said after a moment. “If you’d still like me to.”
Remus hesitated, fighting to keep acting like he didn’t care. “Do you want to leave?”
“Not particularly,” Logan said, and Remus hadn’t expected to feel so relieved. “But it’s your room. I don’t want to intrude.”
“You’re not.” Remus moved back to his bed, dropping himself unceremoniously onto his back. “Don’t leave if you don’t want to. I don’t care.”
“Then I’ll stay.”
Logan pulled up his usual chair, leaning back comfortably as he picked his notebook back up and began flipping idly through it. He looked content and relaxed when Remus risked a glance in his direction, and he smiled to himself.
“You can talk if you like,” Logan said, glancing up from the pages. “I’m listening.”
Remus did eventually start talking, dumping his latest ideas on Logan like he usually did, diving into last night’s fantasy of setting an office building on fire in the middle of the week.
Logan had added on, and Remus had listened intently as he’d recited statistics and calculations, the likelihood of survival, and the two of them eventually decided it would be a waste of time, the fire likely to be put out before even causing any real damage to the building.
That was a talent Logan had. He could get Remus to let go of a thought that typically wouldn’t have left him alone for weeks.
It wasn’t until Logan had stood up to leave for dinner, promising he’d be back at the same time tomorrow, that Remus realized Logan had stayed twice as long as he usually did.
Huh.
Weird.
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achillieus · 4 years ago
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let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)
summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.
(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)
quick note: i wrote this back in 2018 after meeting sebastian in greece but i redited it now, so if you see any mistakes or typos please tell me :)
pairing: sebastian stan x reader
warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, sebastian desperately needs to hug the reader, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning
part: 2/6
(other parts)  (masterlist)
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It’s Monday when they come back from their small trip to the south. You’re watering the jasmine in your balcony when you hear the engine of Argyris’ car slowly shut down and see two figures getting out of the back seats.
It’s him and a blonde woman. You remember meeting her that night in the terrace. You’ve learnt that she’s a great actress and will play the other main character in the film.
When she notices you looking at them, she waves.
“Hey, Sebastian it’s your friend there.” She gives his shoulder a soft nudge.
We’re not friends. That’s what you almost yell back at her.
His head shots up, smiling.
He’s always smiling. It’s getting annoying.
You can see him going through his bag as he calls your name.
“Look, I brought you some traditional sweets.” He’s holding a small wrapped up package. He starts wiggling it in the air.
He looks so jolly and proud of himself. It makes your throat dry.
And before you can control it, you laugh. You can’t see it from where you’re standing but he bites his bottom lip at the sound.
/
Two hours later he’s sitting in your kitchen devouring half of the pastries he got you.
“These are actually so good, how can you not like them?” He says and it comes out all garbled. His mouth is full of sugary dough.
You do like them. But he does too. And you can find them anytime you want here. You doubt it’s the same in New York.
“They’re just not my favorite,” he nods “but thank you anyway.”
“Well let’s say you owe me,” you furrow your brows in confusion “and will repay me by sending me some of those once I’m gone.”
He laughs before taking another bite.
And as you stare at him, you notice that he’s different. His gaze is tranquil, his voice is soft and he has some cream at the corner of his lips.
Like that, he looks more like a guy you met at college than a well known actor.
Like that, we could be friends, you think.
You talk a lot. He tells you about his time in Romania and his first audition. It makes you realize you are far more interested in acting than what you thought. You tell him how you think team Iron Man is the superior team. He gasps, as if he is hurt.
He doesn’t mention his girlfriend. You don’t ask about her. It’s easier for both of you this way.
/
A stifling heat rises to your body as you walk under the burning sun. You don’t realize how Argyris gets you to give Sebastian a tour around the city, but you can remember a pair of light eyes pleading you.
You can easily hear him humming to himself. You turn to look at him. He’s wearing a hat and his forehead is sweating. He doesn’t seem to mind.
“You’re in a very good mood today.”
“Aren’t you?”
“Well I’m stuck with you for the day so what choice do I have?” You shrug.
He makes a face at you. You crack and a huge smile forms in your face.
He leans closer, mouth to ear and then he speaks.
“You know, I can’t tell if you hate me or just like me too much.”
His breath hits your cheek.  
You try not to blink at the sudden foreign touch.
His words find your skin and they’re so clear and powerful. Suddenly you’re an open page to him.
He crosses his arms in front of his chest and waits for an answer, a nod, a glance.
You are still standing close, the city sounds doing nothing to ease the heated silence between you two.
He realizes you’re not going to give him any response so he lowers his eyes.
And then, when he looks up again, it almost feels like he gives you mercy and agrees to let you get away with it this time.
He smiles.
“So where is Acropolis?”
/
When he’s lying on your couch after six hours of being a tourist and under the summer sun he looks exhausted. Still he’s his typical talkative self.
“You are always so pumped.”
“And you rarely are.”
“Doesn’t it get tiring?” you ask each other at the same time. It seems like you are two different sides of the exact same coin. One body. One heart.
“Today was nice.” He stretches his arms. “Thank you.”
You open the window. There is barely any wind out there. The air smells of hot cement and flowers.
The man on your couch has closed his eyes, breathing softly.
You try to ignore him over and over for the last days. Until you cannot ignore him anymore; your world has come to an end.
So many people know who Sebastian Stan is.
Only few will ever know him like this; falling asleep on a cheap brown couch with his hair messy, his chest rising and falling and his mind empty of thoughts.
These are photographs of your memories now.
An involuntary smile spreads across your face at the thought.
You see him swift and his hand clenches tightly around a throw pillow.
“Stop looking at me like that you creep,” he says.
“Come closer,” he means.
/
The sun is long gone and he’s still asleep when there’s a knock on your door. It’s Argyris.
“Please tell me he’s here.”
You nod and motion towards Sebastian’s drifted away body.
“When I left you this morning, I didn’t actually think you’d last this long together.” He tells you the moment he sees him.
The words fall out of his mouth too easily for your liking. “But I should have known better.”
You don’t understand much. You take a step out of your door. You don’t want to wake him up.
“Do you know how many times he mentioned you while we were away?’
Everything stops and falls quiet in the hall.
The words choke you. You shake your head.
“I need you to be smarter than him.” He says and touches your shoulder. “His world moves too fast for people like us.”
It’s effortless not to look at the man in front of you. It’s hard not to shallow his saying.
/
He wakes up an hour later. He looks at you and it feels sacred. His eyes are still red and the pillow has left a mark on his left cheek.
“I’m sorry I fell asleep here.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it was rude, you should have yelled at me to wake up or something.”
“But you looked tired.”
You carry on with doing the dishes and you hear the couch squeak as he stands up and steps towards you.
The water is refreshingly cold on your skin and the soap smells like lemon.
His hands find your waist and his touch is burning. You wish he disappears. You wish he stays for the night. You don’t even know what you’re wishing for anymore. He comes closer and rests his head on top of yours.
And then he wraps his arms around you and you get flashes of days and nights where there was not enough air for you to breath and your ribs ached.
His action is not so noble. It feels like his body steals all the rationality you have. But it gives you this feeling that there will be no more starless skies at night. And that’s enough for now, so you don’t complain.
His skin feels soft and he smells of sweat and vanilla. Somehow you find that alluring.
He looks at you for a second, like he’s trying to memorize your face. And then he pulls away completely silent.
You try to understand what he’s thinking but he gives nothing away. You were never good at reading people.
You blink and he’s almost out of your apartment.
“Goodnight” he shouts.
“Goodnight” you whisper.
/
You close the window. You wonder how he will spend the night. He probably won’t sleep soon. He just woke up.
But you can’t sleep either.  You just move around in your bed. You sink into the sheets and try to close your eyes.
Your phone buzzes.
He follows you on Instagram.
I need you to be smarter than him.
You go through his profile. You want to think he’s doing the same. You want him to do the same.
His world moves too fast for people like us.
You sigh. Perhaps there could have been a time when you would have stayed away from him, but you can’t pretend to ignore it for much longer. And you’re scared of it. And you’re scared of him.
But you’re more scared of how hard it’s for loneliness to fade. And you wish this doesn’t end like a greek tragedy.
/
One day of the following week you go out for coffee. The curly haired woman comes with you. You don’t understand why. And while you’re adding more sugar to your espresso, she tells him she loves his acting. She uses all kinds of adjectives to describe it; hopeful and poignant, celestial.
You like the way she talks. She sounds beautiful. You almost envy her abundance of words.
But Sebastian stops listening.
He watches the way your fingers wrap around the sugar box. He can see your nerves and your synapses move underneath your skin and he thinks he’s watching a dance show.
He will never tell you, but it’s then; under the morning sun and with sugar in your hands, that he feels his heart beat with the power of cymbals for the first time.
He thinks you don’t have to know.
He’s wrong.
You learn the girl is an actress herself. They’ll be in the movie together. They look stellar together.
Looking at them, gives you a violent feeling that wrenches your stomach around.
You can’t hate her for that. You feel like it’s more your fault than hers. That feeling however, grabs you by the shoulders and doesn’t let go. You try not to let it show.
But for some reason when Sebastian almost touches your palm, you look at her and you’re certain this is entirely mutual.
You make a silent agreement to not include him in any of this.
/
“You were extremely quiet earlier.” He says as you reach the building you call home.
He wants to spend time together until his scheduled shooting. You don’t complain.
“You always say that.” You try to joke. He looks right at you.
And then you notice that his eyes aren’t the color of the sea. They’re more grayish blue. They’re like a frozen lake in December.
“I know,” he starts messing with his hair “But you can’t deny you barely talked back there.”
When you enter your apartment, he immediately throws himself on your couch. These last few days it feels like he owns that right spot there in front of your big window.
“I’ve told you, I talk when I have something to say.”
He smiles at your words.
“Then I must be lucky you talk to me.” He whispers softly.
You sit next to him. If you move a little closer you could touch him, feel his warmth. You don’t.
You never thought of how easy it has become to talk to him. You don’t keep your thoughts locked and your teeth clenched around him. And that’s a novice feeling for you.
You let your eyelids fall close and lay back.
There’s a language between you two. It starts with secret glances and whispers and now it contains words that build and ruin bodies and souls.
Sometimes you want to say them all together. Sometimes you just want to open your mouth and let everything flow out but then you’re scared you’ll make him mad. Or you’ll make him love you.
You can’t decide which is worse and that’s enough to stop you.
“What is this thing between us?” He sounds all tender-like, but his blood feels heavy at the moment. He’s not sure if he can keep breathing. He regrets the words that leave his lips, when it’s already too late.
You have the answer figured out long time before he asks. But you’re not ready to give it to him.
“I don’t know” you open your eyes “I don’t know.” You repeat.
/
He doesn’t tell anyone but sometimes he feels nauseous before a shooting. You can clearly see that now. His pacing up and down the room and his roaming eyes give him away.
You are surprised. You never thought he could be nervous. He looks so confident and radiant all the time; you sometimes forget he is still a regular human being.
“You have no reason to worry.” His lips twitch.
“I know.”
“But you still worry.”  You grin and catch his arm to stop him from moving.
The look he gives you is acute.
“You have no reason to be sad,” he starts, without breaking eye contact “but you still are.”
You feel naked and hug yourself close.
It’s very strange to have someone scratch everything from you and see your raw truth. You’re not certain it’s something you enjoy. You wish it didn’t make you quiver.
Sebastian wishes he could scratch deeper under your dermis and your fingernails and slither there between your muscles and your heart where blood runs thick and melancholy hasn’t conquered yet.
“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head.
“You didn’t say anything hurtful.”
You worry your words may come out bitter. You don’t want that.
“It won’t last forever.” he says and then your name appears in his tongue. You like the way he says it. It almost sounds like poetry. “You won’t be sad forever.”
You smile and, in that moment, you aren’t a worldwide known celebrity and a girl in her early twenties. You are just two people seeking comfort.
/
The same night there’s a party for the first day of shooting. You don’t feel like going, but he doesn’t let you stay home.
What did you do last night?
Went to a party with Sebastian Stan, typical Thursday night.
You can picture the look on everyone’s face. It makes your lips turn upward just a little.
“I told you to be careful.” The voice sounds almost far away but your neighbor is standing right next to you as he mutters.
“I am.” You say with a laugh. He crosses his arms.
“No, you are here, watching him starry-eyed.”
Your fingers start playing with the rough fabric of your dress.
“I don’t know how to stop it.” You whisper.
He tells you to not entail yourself in something you don’t know the way out of. But what does he know about solitude and rushed breaths?
What does he know about a pair of eyes that look like a frozen lake?
Nothing. Nothing at all.
/
He’s watching you from afar while you talk with Argyris. He notices how your chest moves along with your breathing in a way it looks like it’s made of pure glass.
For a while he thinks of staying there and keep observing you but then Argyris leaves and you’re all alone. And he starts walking closer to you.
All eyes are on him as he goes through the main dance floor. The curly haired actress stops moving to the beat and follows him with her gaze.
They both reach you.
And you know he’s moving towards you before you can see him. It’s like your body is aware of his presence madly fast.
His eyes seem darker under the hazy light.
He grabs your hand.
You almost heave.
“Let’s get out of here.” He breaths.
/
You walk for some time. It’s late and Athens is quiet around that time. There is only a soft broken sound of cars and you think about that time you saw a car crash happen in front of your eyes.
You sit close in an old dirty staircase in a forgotten back alley. The city has a lot of those, but people don’t notice. They just walk past them, always in a hurry.
Sebastian sighs heavily. He looks at you in a way it makes you think he’s trying to memorize everything. The way midnight air caresses your body, the way red lighting falls in your hair from that street lamp. He looks at you for an indefinite and long period of time and it feels exquisite.
You place your fingers on his palm and the world flickers. He’s still wearing the rings they gave him for the movie and they feel cold against your skin.
“Do you ever miss Romania?”
The question startles him.
“Every day.”
You nod. Maybe he knows more about sorrow than you give him credit for.
“I remember the dog fence and our neighbors’ daughter and the orange sky through my window, minutes before sun set.”
Your hand locks around his and you stay silent for a while.
“This is the Lyra constellation.”  His eyes light up as he looks up.
You remember reading about how much he’s into space. It’s intriguing.
“Where?”
He doesn’t let go of your hand. Instead he picks it up and guides it with his own. His body moves closer. There’s no cold in the air.
As your eyes search for the stars that your hands point at, he watches you and he’s certain that one day he’d love to lay on his back, with you on his side and show you all the little dead planets in the sky. Show you the secrets of the universe.
And he feels like this is the type of beauty that musicians try to write songs about.
“Ah!” Your grip becomes tighter and you smile. “I can see it!”
He laughs at your childish enthusiasm.
You laugh too.
And then you let your head fall on his shoulder, your hair touching his bare skin. You don’t blame them for making him wear sleeveless shirts for the film.
You can him feel shudder at your sudden motion, but then he exhales and his muscles relax.
He observes the features of your face from this angle. He almost traces them with his fingers.
“They’re probably going to kill me for stealing you away from the party.” You whisper.
“I think I was the one who grabbed your hand and left.” He laughs again and you can feel his chest pounding.
His phone buzzes. He doesn’t look at it. He closes his eyes.
“Δείξε μου όλα τα αστέρια. ”
He doesn’t understand a word but your voice sounds too close. You feel too close. And that’s almost tearing him apart.
“What does that mean?”
You turn to look at him. The neon sign on the old building behind him keeps trembling.
“It means, show me the stars.”
And he does. And he feels like he could burn alive.
And you will never tell him; but you still think of him when you catch a glimpse of burning stars.
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bbangsoonie · 4 years ago
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just u
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member: sunwoo genre: fluff word count: 1,903 synopsis: sunwoo thinks you’re a flirty drunk but doesn’t notice you only flirt with him.
a/n: oc’s facial flush after drinking alcohol is mentioned once in the fic
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Eric: giant sleepover at hyunjae’s tonight
Hyunjae: this is news to me ??
Eric: be prepared to pull an all-nighter because we are doing everything from watching movies to playing games to ✨drinking✨
Sangyeon: his house is also my house ???
Eric: y/n, can you pick up some snacks and drinks with sunwoo?
You: sure
Sunwoo: this is news to me as well ?
Eric: see you all at 6! i know no one has classes today and tomorrow’s saturday so i expect full attendance :)
Juyeon: again, our house is not just solely hyunjae’s ???? younghoon and i live here as well ;-;
Eric’s impromptu gathering was in no way organized but he knew everyone would go along with it. Your group of friends consisted of the most spontaneous people you’ve ever met. They were always down for anything, anytime.
That was how you ended up going grocery shopping with Sunwoo and Haknyeon after you stopped by campus for your professor’s office hours. You ran into Haknyeon there who wanted to tag along to make sure you bought his favorite snacks.
“Any requests for chasers?” you called out to the boys who were an aisle away. You scanned the shelves of sodas in front of you, trying to recall who liked what drinks.
“Chasers are for babies,” Haknyeon scoffed as he made his way over to you.
“I’m baby,” you proudly pointed at yourself.
“Are you referring to the Kirby meme right now?” he blinked. When you nodded, he pretended to gag, making you slap his back.
“Do you guys think this is enough alcohol?” Sunwoo arrived with a cart full of bottles. You almost laughed at the amount of cases. Anyone passing by would think you were shopping wholesale. Which honestly didn’t sound like a bad idea for a group of 12.
“Should be,” Haknyeon shrugged, taking over the cart. “Now time for the good stuff!”
You and Sunwoo watched as he threw in bags of chips and jelly into the cart. You only picked out one or two for yourself since Haknyeon was essentially just getting everything. There was a wide variety for you to choose from anyway. Sunwoo had to physically stop him from adding more stuff, insisting that there’d be dinner as well.
With Hyunjae in charge of ordering food, it was no surprise that you walked into his house smelling like chicken. Eric greeted you from the kitchen and you hollered out a “hey” before joining Changmin and Chanhee in the living room. They were in the middle of an intense round of Super Smash Bros and by the looks of it, Changmin was winning. When the game finally ended, Changmin shrieked with laughter while Chanhee dejectedly collapsed onto the sofa.
Jacob and Kevin walked in not long after, exchanging greetings with everyone else. Sangyeon, Juyeon, and Younghoon emerged from the staircase after finishing their assignments upstairs in their own respective rooms. With the whole group together, Eric gathered you all in front of the TV to have a Super Smash Bros tournament.
“Only people who suck at playing games pick Kirby,” he yelled as you picked up a controller.
“I do admit I suck at games and love Kirby,” you stuck your tongue out as you chose your character, making Chanhee groan.
“All you do is spam down b!” Kevin whined.
“Well no one wants to teach me other moves or how to play other characters,” you shrugged.
“I tried,” Hyunjae sighed. “You’re an impossible student.”
“That’s because everyone kills me off while I try to learn!” you huffed.
To your amusement, you won the game by avoiding everyone in the air while they battled amongst themselves. Then you constantly attacked Younghoon with the same move until he eventually died. He screamed in frustration when your victory flashed across the screen.
Unfortunately for you, everyone decided to target you in the beginning for the next round. After easily finishing you off, they enjoyed what they called a “true fight” that Eric ultimately won.
The long night officially began with the mountain of boxes of chicken in the kitchen. It was easily demolished before Changmin won rock, paper, scissors to put a horror movie on. Before the film was even chosen, Sunwoo was complaining about how he hated jump scares.
“Bro just say you’re afraid and move on,” Eric snickered.
“I’m not scared! I just don’t like being surprised,” Sunwoo insisted.
“Pft, if you’re a true man you can watch it,” Chanhee teased, unaware of his embarrassment to come.
The next couple of hours was chaotic. Chanhee screamed at every noise, making everyone else scream as well. Haknyeon and Sunwoo ended up watching the movie with their ears closed and Jacob gave up entirely by trying to nap instead. You had the unfortunate seat next to Younghoon and became his ragdoll that he clung onto and shook every time he got frightened. You didn’t even get to react to the movie because he kept screaming and grabbing onto you.
Eric and his mischievous instincts spent the whole time trying to startle Juyeon who ended up chasing him around until he promised to stop. Changmin, Sangyeon, Hyunjae, and Kevin were the only ones who truly enjoyed the movie.
When the lights came back on, Chanhee and Sunwoo pretended that it wasn’t scary at all. Hyunjae laughed, reminding them of their reactions to which they feigned oblivion to.
“I need a drink,” you groaned. “Younghoon stressed me out more than the ghost did.”
“Everyone go slow and steady,” Eric warned. “I want to be playing until the sun comes up.”
“My body is too old for this,” Sangyeon mumbled as he began taking the alcohol out of the fridge.
“Hey, Y/n, can you pass me a bottle?” Sunwoo asked. You felt your heart skip a beat when his fingers brushed past yours to take the drink from your hands. The exchange made you blush and you quickly took a shot to mask your tinted cheeks with the flush of the liquor.
Spending the night with your friends meant that you would be spending it trying hard to not fall in love with your budding crush. You tried your best to keep a safe distance from him, relying on Chanhee to be your trusty barrier.
After a series of drinking games (that mostly resulted in your loss), you were beginning to feel the effects. With Chanhee and Haknyeon by your side, you were slightly swinging in your seat. You were all sitting on the floor in the spacious living room to start whatever game Hyunjae had suggested. His words had gone in and out of your ears while you were finishing your last punishment drink.
“So basically one person will ask another person a question and that person will say their answer out loud. The answer has to be the name of someone in this room. Those who are curious about the question will drink to hear it,” Hyunjae explained.
“Can I go first?” Kevin excitedly asked. With the majority agreeing, he happily went up to Jacob to whisper in his ear.
After hearing his question, Jacob thought for a second before saying your name. The boys teasingly “ooh”ed, making you roll your eyes. Sunwoo, Eric, and Changmin were the only ones curious enough to drink for the answer.
“Aw, Y/n, you don’t wanna know why he picked you?” Kevin pouted.
“By the look on your face, I think I get the gist,” you chuckled. “Any questions involving girls only leaves me as an option. And to be brutally honest, I don’t really care what he thinks of me.”
Jacob, faking pain, clutched his heart.
“Ouch,” he joked.
Jacob asked his question to Younghoon, who answered with your name again. This time, you were slightly intrigued.
“Me again for the second time in a row? Now I’m kinda curious,” you pretended to think hard.
Eric drank again and eagerly asked for Jacob’s question. Trying to elicit a response from you, he acted shocked and grabbed Younghoon by the collar. Laughing, you gave in and drank to hear the question.
“He thinks you’re gonna be the first to get cuffed,” Jacob whispered to you.
“Ah, unfortunately no,” you shook your head at Younghoon, sitting back down.
This time, Younghoon asked you a question. He asked who you would date if you had to choose from the friend group.
“Sunwoo,” you said almost immediately. His jaw dropped at how fast you made your decision and he gave you a smug look.
Again, Eric couldn’t hide his curiosity. His reaction made the rest of them interested and everyone ended up drinking to find out what Younghoon had asked you. Hyunjae hooted but the alcohol in your system left you unphased by all their teasing.
After their excitement died down, the game continued until each person had a turn. It ended with Eric drunk crying thanks to Juyeon picking him as his most cherished friend. Seeing him cry made Sunwoo cry as well and Changmin was having a blast laughing at them both.
Not wanting Sunwoo to also turn into a crying drunk, Sangyeon took his cup away from him. He reminded him to keep his pace, prompting him to sulk. As soon as Sangyeon looked away, however, Sunwoo stole it back and downed the rest of his drink.
“Sunwoo, no,” Sangyeon groaned.
“Sunwoo yes!” Sunwoo exclaimed with glee.
The group then split off into subgroups to take a break from drinking. You, Younghoon, Juyeon, Changmin, Sunwoo, and Eric propped a phone up to make TikToks together. Meanwhile, the rest of the boys were just chilling on the couch, laughing as they watched you embarrass yourselves.
Subconsciously, you ended up with your arm wrapped around Sunwoo’s neck for most of the stupid 15 second video. You honestly weren’t sure what you were filming or why you were so close to your crush but you were having too much fun to care.
Chanhee, on the other hand, definitely noticed. He smirked as you rested your head on Sunwoo’s lap and Sunwoo’s face reddened. He nudged Jacob to point it out and made fun of how oblivious you two were.
Before reconvening, you stepped outside to get some fresh air. When you didn’t return after 10 minutes, Sunwoo was sent to retrieve you. You lit up seeing him join you on the veranda and beckoned for him to sit down next to you.
“It’s cold out here,” he said. “Let’s go back in.”
“So then you should hold my hand to keep me warm,” you giggled, holding out your hand.
“You’re drunk,” he commented as he raised an eyebrow.
“Drunk on you,” you winked, making him shyly look away. He cleared his throat to rid himself of the awkward tension between you.
“You know, you’re a flirty drunk,” he mused.
“Only to you,” you shrugged. “Haven’t you ever heard of drunk actions reflecting sober thoughts?”
Taken aback, he stared at you in silence. You pouted at his lack of response and got up to go back inside. Before you could open the door, he finally spoke up.
“I’ll think about it if your sober actions reflect your drunk thoughts,” he said.
“Really?” you beamed.
“As long as your drunk self is only flirty with me,” he teased.
“Oh please, have you ever seen me like this with the other guys?” you laughed. “I only like you. Just you.”
356 notes · View notes
nevertheless-moving · 4 years ago
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Suicidal Misunderstanding Part Three: SW Time Travel AU #27
Part One
Part Two
Obi Wan woke with a dry mouth and a moderate headache. A fairly typical morning these days. 
He peered around his bedroom in the temple confused. Wasn’t he just with Cody? Shouldn’t he be on the Negotiator? No wait, the war was over, Cody tried to kill him, and the Negotiator was a part of the Imperial Armada, of course he wouldn’t be there. He closed his eyes, snuggling back under the covers. Before he could drift back to sleep, his sluggish mind processed that last thought. 
He BOLTED upright in bed. The temple had been razed, his personal chambers scorched with particular thoroughness. Just being on Coruscant was an automatic death sentence. Faint tendrils of panic began to curl around his throat before he remembered his decision to give Spice a try. He had reasoned that he should probably find at least one pleasure in his new life, instead of focusing incessantly on what was lost. 
So what if he lost a few brain cells? Good riddance. 
Obi-Wan had been a bit nervous, but this had ended up being his best decision in years. His goodbye to Cody had been painful, but deeply cathartic. Spice Hallucination Anakin didn’t scream like Nightmare Anakin, and the color of his eyes was perfect. Far better final memories to cling to than reality- a reminder of the good times. Comforted, he relaxed backwards in bed, pulling his blankets back around him.
He LURCHED out of bed, covers tossed aside, movement a blur.
He was still hallucinating?!? Spice shouldn’t last in the system this long! He might’ve been uncertain about whether he was supposed to smoke or snort the substance but it was a well known fact that its exhaustive but rapid passage through the body was half what made it so addictive. If nothing else, his well-restedness and thirst indicated it had been at least six hours. He looked frantically around the room, searching for some thread of unreality to pull at.
This...was not good. Hadn’t the subconscious manifestations of his friends mentioned drugs that interacted poorly with force users last night? He had dismissed it at the time but...
He clearly was stuck in some sort of drugged fantasy combined with force-enhanced memory recall. Kriff, he had to wake up in the real world before he died of an aneurysm. Or just dehydration.
He sat on the ‘temple floor’ to meditate. This could be tricky as he couldn’t risk lowering his outer shields to reach out to reality. It would be deeply embarrassing as well as horrifying if the Emperor managed to find him and, by extension, Luke because he got stuck in a bad spice trip.
The door to his room clicked open quietly. 
“Oh! You’re awake. Sorry to come in without knocking, Master. I wanted to let you sleep, but I’ve been checking on you every two hours to make sure you were still, you know, breathing. You were...pretty out of it last night and I would be a pretty bad ‘best friend in the whole galaxy’ if I let you choke on your own vomit, right?” His blue-eyed Padawan explained with a grin.
Obi-Wan just stared. Oh this- this hurt. It was easier last night, when the whole fantasy had a kind of drunken blurriness. Sleeping and waking had brought sober clarity to the dream world. He could see the bags under Anakin’s eyes as well as the sheepish slouch of his shoulders as he instinctively ducked at the door frame. It was just so real.
“Obi-Wan? Are you feeling ok? Do you still feel drunk?” Anakin asked concerned.
Obi-Wan shook his head. He hesitated, before deciding to just go along with the interaction. He didn’t want to risk his subconscious throwing a less idylic scene at him by pretending to ignore this one. And besides, last night had been, all totaled, a huge relief- an unburdening of things left unsaid. This was probably the closest thing to therapy available to him these days, he might as well take advantage.
“I’m just...processing. Not to mention dealing with some mild dehydration.” He finally answered.
“Processing, huh? So does that mean you, uh, remember last night?” Anakin asked nervously.
“I do.” Obi-Wan smiled gently. As heart-wrenching as this was, it was also adorably sweet. Maybe it was worth it to push off waking for a little while. He could get some closure, maybe even work through some of the past to see where the two of them had gone wrong. It might even be helpful for Luke! Force willing, he would probably end up training Anakin’s son someday.
(the boy wouldn’t have many masters to choose from)
If this dream world could help him figure out specifically how he had failed as a Master, then he owed it to the galaxy to see it through. Satisfied, he resolved to let the fantasy play out. At least for a few more more hours. And...he had missed what Anakin had said. Wonderful start.
“I’m very sorry, Anakin would you mind repeating that? I was still a little distracted, but I promise, I’m focused on you now.”
Anakin shuffled nervously. “It’s nothing.”
Obi-Wan tried to project reassurance without actually projecting. “Please Anakin, I’d like to hear what you have to say. I know I wasn’t the most observant or approachable Master, and I’m sorry for that. But I have always cared about your thoughts and feelings.” It was a struggle and the words caught in his throat, but the raw burn of the apology was cleansing in an almost addictive way.
Anakin flushed. “Did you mean everything you said?” he asked nervously.
“I’d...rather not talk about seeing the destruction of the temple, seeing you... Maybe later...but please, I just don’t want to focus on it while I’m sitting here, looking at you,” Obi-Wan said quietly.
“That actually wasn’t what I was talking about,” Anakin responded quickly. “I mean, I do want to help you with that at some point, but I get not wanting to talk about visions, even if you should probably should. Of course if you do want to talk about that stuff, that’s more important, but since you don’t we can talk about the other stuff you mentioned. I was more referring to, you know, us, and what you said about our friendship?” his voice got progressively higher the longer he rambled. 
Obi-Wan thought back. “Well some of it is a little hazy, but overall yes. I...for a very long time I’ve considered you my best friend, and its not so easy for me to let go of my affections. I miss spending time with you; there are times I turn to say something and am still shocked you’re not there. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, with real words, how much I cared. I’m sorry I didn’t hug you as much as I wanted, looking back that was a nonsensical Jedi custom. It’s not in the code; it’s just an affectation of dignity. All things considered, the fact that you often snuck out to see Padme doesn’t really bother me.” He paused. “Was that everything?”
“Oh. Yeah, that pretty much covered everything.” Anakin looked embarrassed, but happy. “I wasn’t sure if you were just saying that stuff because you were drugged, or really drunk or something.”
“No, I meant what I said. I suppose it just took an altered state for me to relax enough to actually say it instead of just thinking at you and assuming you would know. I must admit, its difficult for me to maintain this emotional honesty without feeling drunk, but it’s good. This is good.”
“Ah, that’s... wow. So you weren’t drugged? Cody was concerned you seemed to off for much you actually drank.”
Obi-Wan frowned. Hadn’t that been a trip? Vision blurring from desert hovel to some nameless Catina he once visited with Cody. The continuity since then was almost unsettling. But, then again, Obi-Wan always did have a remarkable talent for self-delusion, didn’t he. He waved away the concerns.
“My substance consumption was entirely deliberate and exactly what I needed. There might have been some unknown additions with some unforeseen after-affects, but like I said- I’m not drunk. I’m clear minded and in full control right now and I knowingly accept the current fallout from whatever I took. I could meditate and force purge to completely recenter, but I think it would be far wiser to just see where this goes. Do you disagree, Anakin?”
Anakin grinned widely. “Whatever you say, Obi-Wan. Just remember this is your idea. Also, I’m taking you to the healers tonight if you’re not completely back to yourself.”
Obi-Wan signed, “If I’m not back to myself in 12 hours, than I fully agree that’s a problem worthy of the halls of healing.”
“Right,” Anakin nodded decisively, “I’ll go get you some water then comm Cody to tell him you’re still alive.
Obi-Wan smiled weakly in response. This wasn’t just a hashed up memory; the responsiveness was more that. He quickly got dressed, hands lingering over soft fabrics and sand-free linens.
Anakin dropped off a cup of water; Obi-Wan sipped at it hesitantly. Dear force, this was dangerously vivid. It actually felt like a relief in his parched mouth. Clearly his subconscious was pulling out all the stops to trap him in this soft delusion. He would have to deal with the thirst and hunger until he woke up- it was probably the firmest link he had to his real body.
He took one last look around before rushing out of his room, eager to take advantage of the time.
Anakin looked nervously up from the comm when Obi-Wan started pulling his boots on. “You’re not going out in the temple like this, are you?”
“Of course! I want to visit the gardens and the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Not to mention spend some time with a few of the other Jedi. You might still be the dearest being in my heart, but there were other Jedi that I care for, and dammit I’m going to tell them that.” He finally finished lacing up his left leg and moved to the right.
Anakin was dumbstruck, presumably as burnt by the ‘dearest being’ comment as Obi-Wan was. Then he rallied, “Wow, wow, No. You are not running around the temple drugged so you can, I don’t know, give Mace Windu a hug. I thought when you said you were going to ‘deal with the fallout' from whatever the kriff you’re still on, you meant you were going to lounge around the quarters all day!”
His former padawan physically blocked the door when Obi-Wan started to leave, sounding vaguely hysterical, “You can’t run around loopy! You’re a High Council Member!”
“Not anymore,” Obi-Wan replied bitterly. 
“What do you mean not anymore,” Anakin said fiercely, grabbing on to his shoulders . “Did they kick you out? Is that why you’re acting crazy? Did you resign?”
Obi-Wan responded by pulling Anakin into a hug, which was immediately returned, “Of course not, don’t be absurd. Fine, I suppose I’m technically still a high council member, it just seems like a bit of a moot point.”
“What the kark does that mean? You used to dream about being on the council! You’re the wisest Master in any of those stupid chairs!”
‘Master of the High Council’ Kenobi just sighed heavily in response. He maneuvered around the confused errant Knight and into the hall. 
"Obi-Wan wait! At least eat something first! Or let me put my shoes on!”
“Very well, you have one minute to make yourself presentable. I only have a few hours before I’m going to need to get back to reality, and the longer I linger the more I fear extreme measures may be necessary.”
“What does that mean?” Anakin shouted from inside. “Extreme measures sounds really ominous, you know.”
“I’d rather not get into it, alright? Let’s just enjoy the here-and-now, eh, ad’ika?
Anakin crashed out the door with less than a second to spare. “What did you just call me?"
“Ad’ika,” Obi-Wan answered, striding down the hallway in the direction of the hanging gardens. “Surely you must have picked up some Mando’a from the troopers?”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t sure if I heard you right, bu- um- ori'vod,” Anakin fumbled out. “Uh, you’re not going to call me that in front of anyone else, right? You do remember that the council already gives us the side eye for over-attachment right?”
Obi-Wan hummed thought fully in responded. “There are far worse things a Jedi could do than admit to affection they already feel. Maybe if I had been honest about my attachments, they wouldn’t have ended the way that...” he trailed off quietly.
“The way that what,” Anakin asked frustrated. “You’re really giving me some emotional whiplash over here, and I’m starting to think that putting off dragging you to the healers is a stupid idea.
“There are far stupider things a Jedi could do,” he responded cheerily. “Oh look, there’s Plo Koon. MASTER KOON!” He shouted, startling the Kel Doran Jedi.
“Yes, Master Kenobi?” He replied slightly concerned as the two human Jedi came jogging over.
“I just wanted to say that I consider my former padawan my family. I raised him, I care for him deeply, and I don’t want to let go of those feelings.”
Plo Koon nodded seriously in response. “I feel just the same about my former padawans, and the Wolffe pack, of course. Denying my attachments isn’t, personally, a practical way to handle them. I’d rather honestly live as an imperfect Jedi than pretend to be a perfect example of the code. If I must have some imbalance, I’d rather it be an excess of compassion than a dearth,” he replied earnestly.
“I always admired that about you,” Obi-Wan replied ruefully. “This might be a little odd, but could I have a hug? I hold you in the highest regard and I’ve realized that there are so many Jedi that I never directly expressed my affection for and...”
Plo Koon didn’t wait for Obi-Wan to finish before wrapping his arms around him. “Of course, dear boy. You’ve had such heavy burdens placed on your shoulders during your life, especially in the last few years; it saddens me to see how deeply they’ve weighed you down. If there’s anything I can do to help, in any way, you simply have to ask.”
Obi-Wan sniffled slightly into Plo’s Shoulder while Plo rubbed soothing circles over his back.
A few passing Jedi gave the embracing Masters uncomfortable looks before hurrying on their way. Anakin stood slack-jawed.
When they finally pulled back, Plo Koon hesitated before finally asking, “I don’t mean to pry, but what brought all this on? I can sense much grief from you, even through your impressive shields.”
“It’s a long story,” Obi-Wan replied, wiping at the corner of his eyes. “I’d rather not get into it.”
“He’s high,” Anakin offered bluntly. “He took something last night and won’t go to medical wing.”
“Ah,” Plo said. “Is that true?”
Obi-Wan looked a little embarrassed. “I have the situation under control. My connection with reality might be...slightly altered right now, but my emotions, and what I chose to do with them are my own. I’m just, taking advantage of a unique opportunity to express myself.”
Plo Koon seemed to scrutinize him intensely, “If you’re sure this is what you need, than I support you. Just don’t do anything too foolish.” he finally offered.
Obi-Wan beamed. “I appreciate you saying so, I thought you would be supportive. Farewell, Master Koon”
Obi-Wan offered a respectful bow and then turned to walk away briskly. Before Anakin could follow, Plo rested a claw on his arm. 
“Feel free to comm me if his behavior reaches a point where you think he truly needs a healer. I’m happy to help you drag him there if need be. A little cathartic release isn’t in of itself such a bad thing, but if he starts acting too out of control...”
Anakin nodded in acknowledgment, then ran off to see who else Obi-Wan had chosen to throw himself at.
Part Four
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cheri-translates · 4 years ago
Text
[CN] Gavin’s Late Autumn Date (Eng Translation)
🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒
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This post is dedicated to @stehkotori​, an incredible woman who created and maintains a home for us on Discord to share our love for MLQC. She’s also very encouraging and sweet 😭💕
Kiss Dates Collection: Kiro // Lucien // Victor
Hearing yet another bout of loud laughter from downstairs, I take up my phone and enter Gavin’s number, planning to tell him to meet me directly in the music room.
Just as the dial tone sounds, I hear a familiar ringtone behind me.
I turn around to see Gavin leaning against the door frame, his lips lifted in a gentle smile.
[Note] He only has one official CG in this date so I made another myself]
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MC: You actually found me! I was about to tell you to come to the music room directly.
Gavin: Mr Keller said you disappeared right after signing the attendance, so I guessed that you’d be here.
MC: I’m not the type to participate in such lively events. Mr Keller will understand.
It is Loveland High’s hundred-year anniversary today. As “Outstanding Alumni”, Gavin and I have been invited to participate in the ceremony.
However, it’s a little too noisy with the announcements and music blaring downstairs.
Furthermore, as a mere producer for a small program, I have nothing in common to talk about with the distinguished figures present today. It’s best to stay in the music room, where I can enjoy the peace and quiet.  
MC: According to the schedule, all the outstanding alumni have to go on stage to shake hands with the Principal. While I’m far from being “outstanding”, you’re not.
MC: Ever since Principal Fang heard that the current commander of the Special Task Force graduated from Loveland High, he’s been wanting to meet you.
Gavin: I’ve never liked participating in lively events. You know that.
He walks over, lowering his eyes to meet mine.
Gavin: Are you playing the piano?
I scoot to the side, patting the empty space on the piano bench.
Gavin smiles and sits down next to me.
MC: Do you feel as though we’ve been coming to school quite often?
Gavin: Mm, but I like the feeling of coming back here with you. It brings back many memories.
MC: Things from high school?
Gavin’s gaze falls onto the black and white piano keys, his amber eyes filled with the tranquil daylight of late autumn.
He doesn’t respond to my question, as though recalling something. He seems to have entered a trance, the corners of his lips raised slightly.
I rarely see such an expression on his face.
MC: Gavin?
I tug on his sleeve gently, eyes full of queries.
Gavin: Some things from high school, and some things from the Special Task Force.
There is a smile in his eyes as he speaks, as if all his recollections are happy memories.
Gavin: I haven’t thought about how to tell you about them yet.
Curious, I stare at him for a few seconds. I lean over to pull on his left hand.
MC: In that case, you have the duration of one song to organize your words.
Gavin places his fingers on the keys obediently.
Gavin: All right, I’ll do my best to keep up with you.
As soon as the prelude starts, Gavin instantly casts me a glance – this is the tune most familiar to us.
The chords he plays with his left hand easily match the melody I play with my right. We don’t make a single mistake.
Accompanying the sounds of the piano, many images resurface in my mind.
The scene when I met him again, the ginkgo bracelet on my wrist which accompanies me day and night, every sunrise we waited for together, every starlight we have seen…
If I were to take count, every memorable moment was spent together with him.
MC: Actually, I came here once when you weren’t around. There wasn’t a reason why I did it. I just had a sudden whim to take a look.
Gavin: Did you gain anything?
MC: It was dismissal time, and the field was very crowded. I think there was a class having a basketball competition. You could hear their heated shouts from outside the school gate.
MC: Oh, I even saw two people laying on the flower bed stand doing corrections for a test paper. Maybe the teacher wanted to check them. My language teacher back then used to love checking our test papers during night revision sessions.
MC: When going up the teaching building, I was thinking… did we often meet at the stairway back then? Did we pass by each other, just that we didn’t know one another?
Gavin: We didn’t.
His tone is plain and ordinary, as though we are talking about trivial matters like what to have for a meal.
Gavin: We met often, but never passed by each other. I remember every moment I saw you in school. Time, location, weather, your expression, your clothes – I remember them all.
His fingers linger between the black and white piano keys, sunlight flashing in his eyes.
Gavin: Even now, I still remember.
With the sudden pause of my hand, the tune abruptly stops.
MC: …we seem to have really missed out on a lot.
Gavin responds to my sudden lament with an expression reflecting a lack of understanding. He doesn’t probe, waiting for me to continue.
MC: I’ve thought about a few things since a very long time ago. For example… cheering you on at the basketball court after school. And then proudly telling the entire class that the name of the tallest and most accurate shooter is ‘Gavin’!
MC: Back then, there was a small stall outside the school gate selling red bean puffs. $3 for one, $5 for two. It was crispy on the outside and sweet on the inside, with a generous amount of filling. You’ve definitely not eaten it before…
MC: Now, the Cityscape Management doesn’t allow the setting up of stalls outside the school gate, so I don’t have the chance to bring you there to eat.
MC: We used to have late night self-study sessions and were only dismissed after 9pm. The girls in the same class would find company to walk with. If you were there, you’d have been able to send me home.
Upon hearing this, Gavin hesitates slightly.
Gavin: Um, I didn’t have a car back then.
MC: I’m referring to a bicycle!
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Gavin: …you can continue.
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MC: Piano lessons were way too dull. Once I sit here, it would be for several hours, playing the same song over and over again. Sometimes, I’d think of going out to have fun - to go shopping, sing karaoke, eat all kinds of good food, or do my homework while having a drink in a small shop.
MC: Also, the 800-metres physical test was literally my nightmare! If you were there to practice running with me, I wouldn’t have passed only after my third test.
The moments I spent in Loveland High replay in my mind, but the things that are brimming in my memory, apart from the purity of youth, blazing passion and ignorance, seems to be missing something.
MC: If I could be with you back then… my deepest memories in high school wouldn’t have just been of exams.
If not for the misunderstanding, if not for us going around in circles – the tedious high school homework and boring practices would have had a completely different experience.
Whenever I think about these possibilities, I feel sorry for us.
I pretend to be angry, loosening myself from his grip. I stand up, wear a serious expression, and lodge a “complaint” against him.
MC: It’s all your fault! …you didn’t give me a chance to know you earlier.
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Astonishment flashes in his eyes, and his voice is hesitant.
Gavin: …I didn’t think that you would have such thoughts.
MC: Well, now you do – we missed out on a whole six years! Even if we want to make up for it every day, it wouldn’t be enough even if you spend a full twenty-four hours with me.
Of course, I’m just joking around with Gavin. However, his expression clearly shows that he has taken my words seriously.
He stands up slowly. When his eyes meet mine, they contain a sorrowful smile that I haven’t seen for a very long time.
I’m about to coquettishly say that he has to repay his debt, but he traps me in between his arms.
Before I can react, a familiar scent takes my breath away.
Without a shred of hesitation, he kisses me.
The kiss carries an overtone of recklessness and ravaging – as he fiercely rubs the territory between my lips and teeth, his hands grip my waist tightly.
Searing breaths descend on my lips. I open my eyes slightly and see unsuppressed aggression brimming in his amber-coloured gaze.
I suddenly recall how I had trembled when meeting his eyes for the first time.
MC: Senior…
I try to open my mouth amidst his continuous demands, but am only able to release an incoherent mess of words.
Gavin eventually stops for a few seconds. His breathing is ragged, but he doesn’t pull back.
Gavin: I was just thinking about that.
He lets out an incredibly soft laugh, gently tucking messy strands of hair on my cheek behind my ear with his left hand. His lips follow after his warm fingertips, descending on my cheek again and again.
Gavin: Whatever I owe you, I’ll return them one by one… is that okay?
He leans over to my ear and speaks in a low voice. Mixed with desire, the sound is enveloped with cloudy breaths, and every wisp leads to an itch in my heart.
MC: Gavin.
There are so many things in my heart that I want to say. In the end, I can only think of calling his name gently.
The corners of Gavin’s lips are hooked into a smile. He suddenly lifts me up with a hand.
MC: …!
In my panic, I grab onto his shoulders. He simply tilts his head and smiles, placing me directly onto the piano.
The piano lets out a noise in response to the sudden weight. Just as I’m about to exclaim, my lips are sealed once again—
Student A: What was that sound just now?
Student B: Probably someone in the music room.
Student A: Want to take a look?
Although the footsteps and voices outside grow increasingly louder, Gavin maintains an air of disregard, continuing to encircle me in his arms.
He not only ignores the voices, but also takes a step forward. He puts his knee on the piano bench, pushing me completely onto the piano.
A few piano keys resound at the contact, embellishing our ragged breathing.
Student B: What’s there to see in the music room? It’s definitely someone from our club anyway. Let’s hurry over to the ceremony – I heard that the commander of the Special Task Force would be here today!
Student A: Are you serious? I saw him on television once – he’s super alpha!
Student B: Mr Zheng said so the last time, so it shouldn’t be wrong. Hurry up, we wouldn’t get good seats if we’re late!
Hasty footsteps pass by, not even stopping for a moment outside the music room.
I look towards Gavin, lightly tugging at the corner of his shirt. At the same time, I gently bite his lip, wordlessly expressing the feelings in my heart at this very moment.
As though punishing me for my mischief, his eyes narrow slightly. With a hand on my cheek, he presses my entire body onto the piano.
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MC: …
I close my eyes, holding onto his solid arms. I lift my head to welcome his lips, savouring his unique breath.
The person in front of me has shed off the roughness of youth, leaving behind only the purity of youth. He often makes me forget that he once used to be unrestrained like the wind.
He has a body that is stronger than everyone else’s, a tough soul, a will that is as firm as steel, and a heart full of tenderness – it is soft beyond compare.
I cling to his waist tightly using my calves, wanting to brand every part of him into my heart.
I want to bear his everything.
Gavin: …
Another light laugh enters my eyes. I open my eyes halfway, feeling the wind slowly sweep past my burning skin.
Even before I sober up from the deep kiss that almost stripped me of consciousness, the scene in front of my eyes causes me to let out a cry of surprise.
Countless ginkgo leaves are floating in the air, dancing outside the window.
The color gold covers every window. Every leaf seems to be drawn by something, spreading their wings as they spin past the floor.
Students standing along the corridor of the teaching building also exclaim, and are unable to hold back their surprised “wow”s!
Gavin smiles faintly. It’s only after a long while before the repeated warmth lingering on my lips gradually leaves the scorching ambience.
Gavin: Do you like it?
I straighten up, leaping off the piano neatly. I kneel on the piano bench with one leg, pressing myself against him.
MC: I like it. I like it very much.
I raise my head, using my fingers to rub his chin, his lips, the tip of his nose, and the corner of his brow.
MC: I like it so much that… I don’t know how I can prove to you just how much I like it.
Gavin reaches out to hold the hand which has drifted to the space between his eyebrows. He has a generous smile.
Gavin: …we did miss out on a lot. Back then, I wasn’t certain if I could have you for life.
I look straight into his bright eyes, and laugh quietly.
MC: And are you very certain now?
Gavin: Mm.
Gavin responds without much thought. His slightly raised eyebrows reveal a sense of pride.
Gavin: I hope you can give me an answer to this question as well.
He holds onto my waist, leaning over to hug me tightly in his arms. Even though he doesn’t continue with his questions, I immediately surrender.
MC: It’s all yours. The rest of my life is yours. The years we missed are also yours.
Everything I have, I’ll give to you.
I won’t leave anything to myself. I’ll give it all to you.
-
🌸 MOMENTS 🌸
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Gavin’s Post: Today’s pork rib soup tastes great. 
MC: Is Commander Gavin satisfied with the supper which was prepared with love? 
Gavin: There’s no need to wait up for me next time. 
-
Gavin’s Post: Today’s pork rib soup tastes great.
MC: You’ll do the cooking over the weekend.
Gavin: Yes ma’am.
-
Gavin’s Post: Today’s pork rib soup tastes great.
MC: Can you taste my new recipe? 
Gavin: You added ginkgo, right? 
534 notes · View notes
peach-the-owl · 4 years ago
Note
How about a scenario with each of the M9 where the child calls them Mom or Dad.
Yes… just yes 😊
You call them Mom/Dad
Child of the Nein (Mighty Nein & Child!Reader)
Jester
You and Jester were shopping and causing some mischief around Zadash, nothing crazy of course. Something caught the corner of your eye, a doll dressed up like a warrior was sitting proud in the window display of a toy shop making your eyes sparkle with excitment. You run over to Jester and tug at her dress while bouncing in you feet.
"Mommy! Mommy look! Can I get that doll please?" You say without a second thought, pointing towards the shop. Jester looks at you astonished for a moment, this was the first time you’d called her mom. You give her a confused look when she doesn’t respond right away and watch her press her hands together as if she were about to pray and a large smile stretch across her face.
"You think of me as your momma?" Despite the smile Jester sounded like she was about to cry. You tilt your head to the side confused, had you said something wrong?
"I’m sorry, should I not-"
"No no, don’t be sorry." Jester quickly cuts you off. "I’ll happily be you momma!" She picks you up and places a few kisses on your cheek and forehead before placing you back down and taking your hands in hers. "Now let’s go get you that doll." With that you both practically skip over to the toy store. You were really glad you got to meet Jester, she was everything you wanted in a mom, especially compared to your old caretaker, whatever happened to them? You didn’t know and you didn’t care anymore because now you had someone who actually loved and cared about you.
Nott
You’d accidentally called mom once before but Nott had easily accepted the roll, having already seen you as her own child. Afterwards it came a little easier to refer to her as such but only when you’re in towns or cities on a small break between adventures. It was kinda funny in a way how it was easy to call her mom in such domestic places but once you were on the road again you'd go back to calling her by name. Nott didn’t mind of course, adventures were intense with little time to think about names and/or titles so it wasn’t much of a surprise that you would do this.
Caleb
Caleb has always tried to distance himself from others, scared to let people into the shell that is his life and yet you had still managed to find a way in. At first he’d brush it all off finding an excuse for why you were just tagging along with him, but over the years he began to warm up to you, seeing as you were his only loyal company besides Frumpkin before you’d met the rest of the Nein.
"Hey, Caleb?" Your little voice pulls him away from his daydreaming. "I want to show you something, I’ve been practicing really hard." He shifts a bit so his full attention is on you. You take a deep breath and pull a cocoon from your bag, Caleb’s taught you a lot now it was time to put it to the test. There’s a slight glow and flash Caleb watches as you body shifts and turns into the form of a cat, your cat form pads over to him and hops up for a closer look. With a quick gesture of his hands the spell wears off and you quickly change back to yourself, you stare up at him with a large smile as he gives you a proud look.
"If that was your first time successfully casting Polymorph you did wonderfully, I’m proud of you." He kneels down and places a hand on your shoulder, a small smile placed on his features.
"Thanks!" You beam at him, giggling a little. "But that’s because I’ve got you as my teacher papa." The word sorta slipped out without your knowledge, effectively shocking him. You happily skip off to tell everyone what you just accomplished, leaving Caleb still kneeling down in deep thought.
You’d called him papa, you saw him as a father figure, someone to look up to and depend on. You looked at him the opposite of how he saw himself, and had done so without a second thought or regret. "I don’t deserve this." He mutters to himself as he watches you skip over to Jester and Nott to tell them of your accomplishments.
Caduceus
You let out a huff, confused and conflicted on what your thoughts were doing, was this supposed to be a good thing or a bad one. Caduceus walks into the little inn room seeing you huff around a little.
"You alright? You’ve been huffing around a lot." He stares at you concerned. You look up at him and he could now see the slight gloss that glazed over your eyes, he kneels down and you instinctively walk into his waiting arms. "Would you like to talk about it?" He asks calmly, you nod after a moment.
"It’s been so long since the last time I saw my family and…" You hold back a small sob, "and I can’t remember what they look like anymore. Is that bad? I’m I a bad kid for forgetting my own family?" A few tears spill over but Caduceus catches them.
"Tell me, do you still know their names?" You nod your head. "Can you still remember the lessons they taught you, or maybe the games they played with you?" Again you nod. "Then you haven’t forgotten them, so long as you still have memories with them you haven’t forgotten them. You’re not a bad kid, far from it."
"Thank you papa." You pause, having caught your own words and look up at Caduceus. He looks surprised at first, but that quickly turns to a gentle smile and he places a soft kiss to the top of your head. You didn’t think much on it before but you had to admit every time you tried to picture your father in your head all you could see was Caduceus, and honestly that wasn’t so bad.
Fjord
Being back in Port Damali always left a nice yet uncomfortable feeling to you, it was where you were raised with the beautiful open sea but the conditions you were raised in weren’t exactly ideal. Which is why you were always greatful when Fjord had agreed to take you with him all that time ago. You find yourself walking along the beach, old habits die hard I guess, not that you minded. You hear someone come walking up from behind and look over at Fjord as he approches.
"Brings back memories doesn’t it." He says, taking a seat on the sand, you join him.
"Yeah, it felt like so long ago… time's weird when adventuring." This earns you a chuckle.
"It sure can be. You know we could recreate that scenario, I could pretend to be unconscious and you aggressively poke me with a stick." He jokes, now getting a chuckle out of you.
"That’s stupid," you playfully push his shoulder. "Don’t be ridiculous dad." You quickly place a hand over your mouth once you’d caught what you just said. Slowly you turn to look at Fjord who’s staring right back, a look of astonishment on his face.
"Did you just call me dad?" You didn’t notice the smile that started to form on his face.
"I’m sorry, I just sorta slipped out, I didn’t mean t-"
"You see me as your father?" He cuts you off a bit, his voice filled with joy. You turn to face him again, seeing him giving you such a caring and joyful smile.
"Well, yeah… I-I guess. You were the first person who treated me so nicely and you took me along with you, it just… felt right to say." You admit a little sheepishly.
"Then by all means, don’t let me stop you." Fjord then pulls you closer to him and stands up with you in his arms, as he places a gentle kiss to you temple. You were glad you had decided to take that beach walk all that time ago, meeting Fjord was by far the best thing to ever happen to you. As for Fjord he was happy to give you something he never had as a child, a father to look up to and depend on.
Beau
Another day another training session, kicks and punches being thrown every which way, thankfully you had the stamina to keep up with Beau. It could be a little tiring but it was necessary to keep your reflexes sharp, then you get punched in the jaw, not too hard that it'd break but enough to leave a bruise later.
"Don’t go drifting off into Lala land. Keep your eyes on the enemy or else that’s going to happen again." You give her a thumbs up and make sure you dodge the next attack she throws at you. When your training is finally over you take a seat and rub at your jaw a bit, feeling where the bruise was forming. "Here, this’ll help." Beau sits down next to you and hands you a healing potion and a cup of water.
"Thanks mom." You say nonchalantly.
"What did you just call me?" Beau asks in surprise. It takes you a second to actually register what you just said, you go stiff when realization sets in.
"Ummm, n-nothing I just said thanks." You look away to try and hide your embarrassment.
"I’m falling for that (y/n). Do you seriously see me as a mother or something?" Beau asks, genuinely curious to your responce. You let out a sigh.
"Yeah, kinda." You finally admit. "It’s just that even though I know you don’t care much for stuff like this, you treat me better then my real parents ever have… guess I just started projecting a little." You scratch at the back of your head and look away from her a little, feeling embarrassed to finally admit to all this. Beau places an arm around your shoulder and pulls you in closer to her side.
"I’ve never claimed to be good at this, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. I like you kid, you got a good spirit to you. So if you want to see me as a sort of mother figure then sure I’ll take it, and if your parents somehow found out and don’t like it that’s just too bad for them." She puts on a goofy smile and ruffles at your hair, making you relax and laugh a little at her antics.
Yasha
One of the few things you liked when it was just you and Yasha traveling alone was the number of flower fields you managed to come across, Yasha’s love and collection of flowers had passed over to you. You spend hours looking through the wildflowers until you found a good handful of them that you and Yasha would then braid into each other’s hair (if your hair is long enough), or sometimes you’d just roll around in the grass. It wasn’t much but these little moments were nice temporary distractions from the troubles that weighed you both down. After putting in the last flower to Yasha’s braid she stands and looks at you.
"How do I look?"
"You look like and angel mama." She body stiffens and her breath hitches a little at your words.
"You-you called me mama." Hearing her say it out loud made you realize your mistake.
"I’m sorry, it just slipped out." You apologize, now feeling bad for the slip of your tounge.
"No, i-it’s ok. Just surprising." She kneels down and gently pulls you in for a hug which you return. "You know…" Yasha starts but let’s her words drift a bit before continuing. "Zuala and I had always wanted a child."
"You have?" You look up at her with big, curious eyes at the mention of her deceased wife.
"Yeah… and I always thought if we did, they would be a lot like you." You smile and cuddle into her more as she tightens her grip on you a bit, as if the second she lets go you’d disappear from her. You stayed like that in the field for who knows how long, just savouring each others presents.
Molly
Taverns, where you can get all the latest gossip, at least decent meals and loads of entertainment from drunken idiots thinking they're some big hotshot, and music one can never forget the music. Taverns were also a place where sketchy individuals would prey on poor unsuspecting souls, which is why you were always super careful and alert to the people you would interact with. Some said sketchy individuals had just asked you "innocently" to join them and see something cool in the alleyway, you had to hold back a laugh at these armatures, did they really think you for an idiot just because you were young? Well that wasn’t going to stop you from having a little fun of your own.
"Before we go, I should really ask if it’s ok." You say faking your own innocence, except yours was much more convincing as you make your way over to the bar where Molly was flirting with one of the locals. You tug on his coat to get his attention, he gives you a quick side glance. "Hey papa," now you had his full attention as he whips around to look at you with a shocked expression. "Those men over there say they want to show me something cool in the alleyway, can I go?" You ask still playing your little game as you point to the now nervous men. It still took Molly a second to register your words but once it clicked into his head what was happening he gives you a sly smile.
"No no, you stay here while your papa has a chat with them." He say loud enough for the men to hear, he stands and the men dash out of the tavern. "Armatures." He mutters, sitting down again.
"Aww, are they really your child? They’re such a cutie." The woman Molly had been talking to coos at you. You give her a smile.
"Well it was-"
"Yes they are." Molly cuts you off, picking you up and placing you on his lap. You look at him a little confused and he pokes your nose, then he goes off making up a story of how he found you and took you into his care. You playfully roll your eyes at his tall tale that the woman and now a few others were eating up unaware of all the contradictions in the story. Behind all the exaggerations and using you as a chick magnet there was genuine affection Molly had towards you, a part of him liking the thought of you being his kid, even if it wasn’t by blood.
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keanureevesisbae · 4 years ago
Text
Christmas with John Wick
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Summary: John Wick is about to spend his first Christmas in years.
John Wick x clumsy!reader
Wordcount: 1.9k
Warnings: None
A/N: This is my one shot for the gift exchange! Thank you @overheardatthecontinental​ for this lovely idea. It has been quite some time since I wrote for John Wick and it sure was fun. @ladyreapermc​ I hope you like it 🥰 Merry Christmas everyone!!
John hadn’t celebrated Christmas since Helen died.
Actually, he hadn’t celebrated any holiday at all after the passing of his late wife four years ago and he figured he would never do that again. While the world around him would celebrate days like Valentines Day, Thanksgiving and Christmas, he would sit on his couch, staring at the fireplace with his loyal canine sitting next to him to keep him company.
However this year, that is not the case, all because he met the love of his life: Y/N. He remembers it clearly, seeing her for the first time. March 21st, the first day of spring. He went to his favorite cafe, to order a simple cappuccino, a tradition he started since the beginning of this year. While everything was the same as usual, the presence of the world’s biggest scatterbrain he has ever seen, was out of the ordinary.
She walked in, her head practically buried in her purse. She wore a pink midi dress, paired with white sneakers and when she finally looked up, he saw her pink lips and her beautiful sparkly eyes.
John didn’t believe in love at first sight, but after locking eyes with her, the beautiful woman smiling at him, he was put in severe doubt.
Every day he would see her in the cafe. Sometimes she dropped her money, her entire bag or worse: her coffee. Seeing her muttering apologies made his heart flutter. When she dropped her lipstick and it rolled towards him, he picked it up, so he could hand it back to her. Yet again he was met with the most beautiful smile he had ever seen, including the glimmer in her eyes and right there and then, he fell head over heels in love with her.
John thought of her quite a lot, in and outside the cafe. However, when this human form of adorable asked for his name and introduced herself, she was on his mind 24/7. He was looking forward on seeing her in the cafe again and again and again.
Y/N. He kept thinking about her name, how well it matched her personality and how it sounded like a beautiful symphony. For hours on end he kept wondering whether or not he should ask her out. Should he ruin what the two of them already had? A nice good morning exchange every day? Some small talk?
Besides, there was always the opportunity of being turned down. She was breathtakingly gorgeous and way out of his league. Why would she even agree to going out with him?
However, when she greeted him one morning, said his name with her beautiful voice and even touched his arm, he decided to go for it and ask her out.
On April Fools day.
After frantically trying to explain to her that he was definitely not kidding and he was for real, she said yes. He couldn’t believe that on the day of the jokes, he a) had a date and b) had his first kiss in years.
Y/N was and is the best thing that could ever happen to John. He loves waking up next to her and going to the cafe together instead of alone. Simply not being alone with his loyal dog, was all he ever wanted, but never in a million years he thought he would get that.
John watches the love of his life roam through the store, taking in every section of the Christmas department, as he walks behind her with the packed cart.
‘John, honey,’ she says as she spins around to look at him. ‘This is so adorable, look at it!’ She shows him a single Christmas ornament of a pitbull. ‘He looks like Tito, doesn’t he?’
While he never consciously named his dog and simply referred to him as “Boy”, Y/N couldn’t stand the fact the canine did not have a name. Besides, she couldn’t whistle, so calling him became a pain.
She tried tons of names. Bodie, Hunter, Jesse, Victor and even Rudolph, but the dog didn’t respond. Until she tried the name Tito as a joke. While John wasn’t necessarily a fan of the name Tito (he actually hated it, joke or not), he saw how Y/N’s eyes lit up when the dog responded to her, nearly wagging his tail off.
And then he realized the pitbull was indeed a Tito.
‘Put it in the cart, sweetheart,’ he says. ‘If, of course, you can find an empty place to put it.’
Y/N stares at the cart and while she scrunches up her nose, she lets out a sigh. ‘I’m going a little overboard, aren’t I?’
He can’t help but chuckle. ‘Maybe a little bit, but I don’t mind,’ he says, as he looks in the cart, filled with lights, garlands and edible and non-edible ornaments.
‘You are paying for all of this and this ornament alone is ten dollar, which is way too expensive for one single ornament.’
She already walks away, but John grabs her hand and pulls her back. ‘We’re buying this one, sweetheart. I don’t care this alone is ten dollars, I really don’t.’ He lets go of the cart, so he can gently pull the ornament out of her hand.
‘John,’ she says, ‘I think everything in that cart is worth over five hundred dollar. I honestly don’t know what I was even thinking. I guess it’s for the best if we put some stuff back.’
‘We are not putting anything back. Remember, this is our first Christmas together. I want it to be as memorable as we can make it and all of this,’—he nods towards their cart—‘is a necessity to make our Christmas perfect.’
‘Are you sure?’ she asks. ‘I mean, it’s quite a lot. Stuff wise and money wise and I don’t want you to regret it.’
‘More than sure.’ He presses a kiss on her forehead. She always worries about money, insists on paying for the coffees and other dates, but he never lets her. He adores spending money on her and this… All the Christmas stuff, is only the beginning of the many Christmases they are going to spend together.
The beginning of their future together, because he is positive they are never going to break up. Maybe it’s too optimistic… Maybe, but if it were up to him, he’d never let her go. ‘I’m gonna say this one more time: don’t you ever worry about money again. I’ve got you, darling.’
The two of them stroll through the store some more and Y/N puts some more necessary stuff in the cart. They end up buying Christmas stuff worth a little over seven hundred dollars. John senses an upcoming heart from both the cashier and his girlfriend. While he pays with his card and pretends not to notice, he places his hand on her lower back. ‘Remember to breath, darling,’ he whispers, as the two of them walk to the car. ‘It’s just money.’
After a quick drive back home, they are greeted by Tito. And with them, he means Y/N, because Tito simply ignores John. Sometimes it makes him jealous to see his dog is almost claiming his girlfriend, but he is also forever grateful they get along this amazingly.
‘We are going to decorate our house today!’ she tells the pitbull, who shakes his entire butt as he wags his tail in excitement. ‘I even bought you a stocking, do you like that?’ She kisses the top of his head, before walking towards the table. While John carries the boxes and bags inside, Y/N’s full attention is directed towards her beloved notebook, where she scribbled down what she has planned for his place.
Originally she wanted to decorate her own studio, like she usually did before they started dating, but he keeps telling her that his place is her place. It’s hard for her to believe that, however she barely is at her own studio anymore. She does, on the other hand, still refer to their place as solely his place.
Maybe decorating it will change her mind.
John walks up to her, stands behind her and buries his face in her nape, taking in her lovely perfume. ‘Okay, darling, what’s the plan?’ he asks against her skin, wrapping his arms around her.
‘First the tree,’ she tells him, ‘then the stairs. Everything we have left, we’ll find a spot for that, I can guarantee.’
🎅🏻 🎅🏻 🎅🏻
It took them six hours before they finally decorated the stairs, the tree and the rest of the place. Six hours! It’s safe to say his girlfriend might’ve gone a tad overboard. Everywhere John goes, there is something Christmas related, however he wouldn’t want it any other way.
‘Darling, you need help?’ he asks from the couch, while Y/N is preparing something in the kitchen.
‘No,’ she yells back. ‘Just adding some sprinkles and then it’s all done.’ Not long after she told him that, she walks into the living room with a tray in her hands. ‘Two hot chocolates,’ she says with a smile, placing the tray on the little table in front of the couch and she hands him a mug. ‘Not to brag, but my hot chocolates are the best in the entire world. In fact, they are that good, you might want them all year around.’ Y/N sits next to him with her own white mug she took from her own place. ‘Cheers,’ she says with a smile.
John takes a small sip of the drink and hums in content. ‘This is delicious, darling.’
‘And?’ she pushes with a smile.
‘And I might want this all year around.’
‘Very good,’ she laughs. ‘Oh, look at you.’ She wipes the whipped cream off his nose, before leaning over to him, pressing a soft kiss on his lips.
‘Oh, sweetheart,’ he says to her, ‘I love you so much.’
‘I love you too and once again: I’m sorry for totally overdoing it and having you working like a dog, because I had unrealistic ideas.’
John simply scoffs, before chuckling. ‘None of that. Besides, I managed to make your ideas reality, so how unrealistic were those ideas.’ He wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer to his body. ‘I like it a lot and there is a slight possibility I’m not going to take this down anytime soon.’
The entire night, they spend drinking hot chocolate, watching cheesy Netflix Christmas movies and after a while, his girlfriend fell asleep in his arms. Thankfully she was already wearing her pajamas, so he carries her upstairs, walking passed the Christmas lights woven into the bars of the stairs. John places her in their bed, pressing multiple kisses on her cheek, before he quickly goes downstairs, to lock the doors and turn off some lights.
John passes the lit up Christmas tree and his eye falls on a picture. He didn’t know this was in here. He bends towards the picture, so he can see it up close. It’s a picture of him and Helen. Y/N knows about Helen and she looks at their pictures quite a lot—she even told him to put some up.
And now she placed one in the tree. His Y/N sure is a special one and truly one of a kind.
He smiles at the picture, thinking about Helen telling him to make most out of his life after she passes. It took him awhile, but he is finally getting there. Finally getting to a place where he is happy again.
‘I’m going to have a Merry Christmas, Helen,’ he whispers. ‘I hope you do too from wherever you are.’
🎅🏻 🎅🏻 🎅🏻
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misskikuwrites · 4 years ago
Text
Piece by Piece (1/2)
Bederia Week 2021: Day 3 - First Kiss 
Bede/Gloria (dressedinpinkshipping)
Tags: Fluff, angst, alcohol spiking, underage drinking, leon/sonia ship reference, swearing
Words: 8,806
@bede-x-gloria
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Gloria stared out the Sky Taxi window and into the night. The city of Wyndon was a glistening sea of lights below them, alive and vibrant as though unbothered by the late hour. As they flew closer to the Rose of the Rondelands, the elegant five-star hotel where the Gala was taking place in its grand ballroom, the nerves in Gloria's stomach began to tighten. She wove her fingers together on her lap to stop herself from wringing the delicate chiffon skirt of her violet dress. 
 Violet. Gloria clenched her jaw and swallowed the lump in her throat. Even now, her heart ached when she thought about him- about Bede. A week had passed since she'd ran out on him, since she'd realised how she felt towards him. It had been a week filled with tears. A week spent fighting the pain, the guilt, the fear. A week where she struggled to put the pieces of her heart back together. Fragile like broken glass, the wound was still raw. It hadn't been long enough
 She felt unbalanced. About to crumble at any given moment, ready to fracture. The impending Gala was more daunting to her than ever before, knowing that Bede would be there. There was no avoiding it. She'd sent him a short text, apologising her abrupt departure with the weak excuse that something had come up. Something she needed to attend to. 
 That much wasn't a lie, but she refused to read his reply. It hurt too much. She'd cried enough for a lifetime over the past few days, overcome by fear, and couldn't bear to find out how he'd judge her for it. Gloria let out a shaky sigh. She blinked hastily as tears pricked in her eyes, tilting her head back to stop them forming. She couldn't risk crying now, not after spending an hour - and a lot of money - getting her make-up done by a professional.
 Hop shifted closer to her on the plush seat. "Hey, don't worry. Everything'll be fine," he said, giving her arm a gentle, reassuring squeeze. 
 Even with Hop next to her, fear had taken hold inside her. Like a creeping vine, it wound around her heart, making its home in her chest, in her lungs, with a thousand thorns that pierced her flesh whenever she breathed. 
 "He's going to be there," Gloria said quietly. She didn't need to say his name. She couldn't, not without giving in to her tears. 
 "I know," Hop said, "but that doesn't mean anything's going to happen." 
 She pressed her lips firmly together. He was right, but trepidation seeped through her veins with every beat of her heart, filling her with fear. Drowning out Hop's voice of reason. 
 "I don't want to see him." Her lips trembled. Chest tightened. Gloria wanted to curl up as small as she could, to hide away, to vanish completely. 
 She didn't want to do this. 
 "There'll be tons of other people there, you probably won't even notice him!" Hop pointed out. "You'll be too busy dancing or talking with all the sponsors and famous people fighting for your attention. I doubt you'll have any time to worry about Be- about him at all." 
 He quickly cut himself off from saying Bede's name, but Gloria's heart thumped painfully in her chest, hard enough to make her wince. It wouldn't be difficult for her to avoid Bede- as Hop had said, there'd be dozens and dozens of people clambering to speak with her all night. The issue was her heart, the longing, the ache inside her that drew her towards Bede. It corrupted her, this feeling she despised.
 This love. 
 Gloria wrapped her arms around herself and sank further into the chair. "What if he knows?" she asked, her voice as quiet as a breath, faint and insecure. Full of fear. 
 "C'mon, Glo. There's no way he'd know," Hop said. He gave her arm a gentle rub, trying to comfort her. 
 Gloria let her vision blur, eyes falling closed. The lights out the window, tiny speckles like stars below, bloomed into ribbons of light. The glass was cold against her skin. Cold and hard, echoing how numb she felt. 
 "You know I'm not good at pretending," she said slowly. "I can't… hide my feelings well." 
 Gloria had never been good at that, hadn't seen the point in pretending to feel something she didn't. She couldn't fake it. She was an open book for anyone to read, and it had never been an issue.
 Until now. 
 Gloria felt vulnerable. Paper thin, as though everyone could see right through her. As though her heart was out in the open. 
 "You won't have to fake anything," Hop said. "Just be yourself. He can't read your mind, remember? He's your friend. If he does come up to you, act like nothing's changed, because nothing has changed." He nudged her with his elbow gently. "You said you've felt like this towards him for a while, right? If he didn't notice then, he won't notice now." 
 Gloria grimaced with a flash of pain. "I don't want to feel like this." Her voice caught. "I don't- I don't want to be in love." 
 Tears threatened to fall. She sucked in a breath and blinked rapidly to force them away again. She wasn't about to let the efforts of her make-up artist go to waste just because she couldn't stop herself from crying. 
 "Hey, love's not all that bad," Hop said. "You never know, maybe he feels the same about you-" 
 "That doesn't matter!" It came out in a beat of panic. Her heart clenched tight in distress, forcing a sob out of her throat. "It doesn't matter," she said again, softer this time. "Love only leads to pain. I don't… I don't want to go through that again." 
 Hop touched her arm. "Gloria…"
 "Sorry." She shook her head. "I'm being stupid again. I know you think it's ridiculous that I'm terrified of love." 
 "No, I…" He looked away. "I don't think it's ridiculous. Neither does your mum. Those of us who know what happened… we understand." 
 "But you still think I'm wrong." 
 Hop stifled a grimace, his expression twitching with regret. "I think… it's a shame that you won't give this a chance, that's all." 
 A chance. That was a risk she couldn't take. Gloria tried to shove her feelings away, to force them deep, deep into the back of her mind in the hope that she was strong enough to stop them from resurfacing. If she could get through tonight without crumbling to dust, then perhaps she could control this and keep those feelings at bay. It was a test, one she'd been practicing a week for. The Sky Taxi landed out the front of the Rose of the Rondelands hotel, and Gloria sat up straight. She took a deep breath and perfected her mask. 
 When the Sky Taxi door pulled open, she was no longer just Gloria, a simple girl from Postwick. She was Gloria, the Champion of Galar. She swept out of the carriage and into the blinding lights of camera flashes. Cries of her name filled the air, increasing in volume when she waved politely to the journalists with a smile. She felt like someone else. Someone more confident, more classy, someone who fit in the world of the elite and famous. The delicate make-up and stunning dress gave her a veil to hide behind. Her hair was styled into an elegant updo, fashioned with a French braid that trailed above her right ear.  Even her usually plain fringe was styled to fit, and she had soft wispy curls left to frame her face. It wasn't Gloria they saw, not really. They saw the Champion. 
 Behind her title, she could hide in plain sight. 
 Hop stepped up beside her, looking smart in his dapper, slim fitting navy suit, and he met her smile with one of his own, one that soothed away the final cracks in Gloria's mask. He offered her his arm, and she took it with practiced grace. The week they'd spent rehearsing paid off as they strode arm-in-arm with confidence through the doors.
 Gloria breathed the faintest sigh of relief as the doors closed behind them, shutting out the buzz of noise and lights from outside. Hop's eyes twinkled with unspoken pride as they were led through to the grand ballroom. It was as exquisite as last year, and Gloria found herself dazed for a moment. Chandeliers glistened like diamonds over the marble floor, the ceiling towered above them, held up by pillars carved with intricate designs. Interspaced between the pillars were glass windows and doors that fed out into the balcony, the night a wedge of darkness outside.  
Gloria forced herself to keep moving as heads turned towards her and Hop as their entrance was announced. Already, the ballroom was filled with people, most of whom she didn't recognise. People mingled in groups by tables overflowing with tiers of cakes, arrangements of fruit, and varying morsels of food the size of which would've better suited a Skwovet. Waiters expertly swept through the crowds, carrying crystal glasses bubbling with what Gloria assumed was something alcoholic. She tightened her grip on Hop's arm and nervously glanced from face to face, from group to group. Instinctively, unintentionally, seeking him out. 
 "Look, there's Lee and Sonia," Hop said, tapping Gloria's arm. 
 "Where?" She forcefully dragged her gaze to where Hop was pointing as he led her over to them. 
 Sonia brightened when she saw them approach, looking absolutely stunning in an off-the-shoulder teal dress. A slit in her skirt ran halfway up her high, showing off her long, slim legs. She wore heels that matched the colour of her dress, the height of which made Gloria blink in shock for a moment. In her heels, Sonia stood as tall as Leon. 
 "Oh, don't you two look so precious!" Sonia said, gesturing with the glass in her hand. "Reminds me of the first Gala Leon invited me to." 
 She leant closer to Leon, their arms comfortably intertwined. He smiled at her, his eyes soft with remembrance, and Gloria suddenly felt as though she'd missed something. 
 "That was years ago," Leon chuckled softly. 
 "You didn't tell me you'd be here, Lee," Hop said, lifting an eyebrow. "I didn't think they let ex-Champions attend." 
 "I'm here as the proprietor of the Battle Tower," Leon said. "Turns out that makes me important enough for an invite. And here I'd thought I'd had enough of these for a lifetime." 
 Gloria managed a smile as her attention drifted away from their group. She looked past Sonia, to where a band was playing by the dancefloor. Couples spun and twirled in time to the music, manoeuvring around each other in a perfectly choreographed synchrony. Gloria's heart thumped as she glanced between the dancers. None of them had his height or his build. None had platinum blond hair or curls like his, none had his elegance or poise. She swallowed thickly and looked away. Would Bede soon be dancing like that with a gorgeous woman in his arms? 
 That thought soured her mood more than it already was, filling her throat with nausea. She pulled away from Hop's arm and gave him a tight smile when he looked at her. 
 "I'm going to grab a drink," Gloria said. 
 She ducked around Hop towards a passing waiter. One of them had to have something non-alcoholic, and if they didn't, then surely they could bring her something that was. She made for the waiter as quickly as her heels would allow while also retaining her sense of refinement. In her haste, she almost collided with someone. 
 "Oh, sorry!" Gloria apologised, swallowing her yelp as she stopped herself a split second away from walking straight into the young man in front of her. He jolted just as she did, his bright blue eyes widening with recognition. 
 "You must be Gloria," he said, "the Champion, right?" 
 She straightened and gave him a smile. "That's me," she said with a sheepish laugh.
 Gloria distracted herself from her nerves by fingering the bracelet around her wrist. She touched each tiny star, the crystals sparkling pink in the light, and her mind drifted to the moment Bede had given it to her, to when he'd gently clasped it around her wrist and her skin had tingled at his very touch. She felt her cheeks warm. 
 Not now! Gloria stamped that memory out. Don't think about that now! 
 "What luck, running into the Champion of Gala before I've even had my first drink," the blond-haired stranger said, smiling gently at her. He held up the glass in his hand, the clear liquid spotted with tiny bubbles. "Here, why don't you have mine? You seemed to be after that waiter before you almost barreled me over." 
 Gloria flushed darker. "Oh, um, I can't drink. Alcohol, I mean. I'm not eighteen yet." 
 "No need to worry, then. It's non-alcoholic sparkling wine," he said, offering it to her again. "I don't drink either, although I could if I wanted to. I'd rather not dull my senses, you see." 
 She accepted his glass, peering into it for a moment. As the stranger had said, there was no evidence around the rim that he'd tried it, and so she gave it a tentative sip. It tasted much like it smelled, though sweeter than expected. 
 "Thank you," Gloria said, appreciative that she didn't have to continue chasing a waiter. "I don't think I caught  your name?" 
 The stranger smiled. "That would be because I hadn't given it to you, yet. I'm Elliott Murdoch. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Gloria." 
 She smiled back despite how strange it was to have people she'd never met know so much about her. She doubted that she'd ever get used to it. 
 "It's nice to meet you too," Gloria said. She filled his name into the back of her mind before pausing. "Hold on- Murdoch? As in, like Richard Murdoch?" 
 Elliott gave a short laugh. "That would be my father, yes." 
 Gloria's heart plopped into her stomach and churned with her nerves. She knew who Richard Murdoch was, almost everyone in Galar did- he owned most of the newspapers, the magazines, that circulated. He was one of the richest men in Galar, and could possibly be the richest now with Rose out of commission. 
 And she'd almost run into his son. 
 Elliott must've seen her pale, for he touched her shoulder gently. "Don't worry, I've got little to do with my father's empire at the moment. I find that associating myself with him tends to limit the amount of people comfortable around me," he said. "I'm sure you must experience something similar, being the Champion." 
 Gloria found her nerves loosening slightly. "I think so," she said. "People see me as the Champion, rather than as myself. It can get a bit exhausting, sometimes…" she trailed off, and slowly drank from her glass. She'd begun looking over his shoulder, her attention shifting between the people behind him. Searching the crowds. 
 Where is he?  
"I know what you mean," Elliott said, and Gloria snapped attention back to him. 
 Arceus, what am I doing? She scolded herself. Pay attention to who you're talking to! 
 She nodded stiffly, trying to listen to Elliott as her mind threatened to drift away again. Every flicker of movement in the corner of her eyes, the people moving about, the couples dancing, itched at the back of her mind. He would be here somewhere. With his date- perhaps with the one he'd spoken about to her, the one he liked. 
 Gloria's stomach twisted into knots. She lifted her glass to her lips and downed the rest to force away the nausea rising up her throat. Even now, Bede managed to invade her thoughts. Just knowing he was here, somewhere, sent something crackling and fluttering away in her chest, and filled her with a longing to find him. A longing that came with fear. 
 Elliott tapped Gloria's shoulder, giving her a sheepish smile. "I believe your date is staring me down," he said, and gestured behind her. 
 Gloria glanced over her shoulder, and caught Hop's gaze. He raised an eyebrow at her, his brow furrowed with the slightest hint of concern. A question in his eyes. 
 "I should get back to him," Gloria said. She gave Elliott an apologetic smile to which he chuckled. 
 "Yes, well, we wouldn't want your boyfriend to get the wrong idea." 
 Gloria stiffened. All the muscles in her body went rigid. Tight. "He's not my boyfriend," she said. Nausea returned with a vengeance, and her heart began to thump heavily in her chest, each beat hollow with dread. "Hop's just a friend." 
 "Ah, my apologies, then," Elliott said with a sweet smile. "I'd heard you were dating the young professor's assistant, but really, of all people, I should know to take what I read in magazines with a heap of salt." 
 Gloria forced a smile. The polite breath of laughter she tried to give died on her lips. "Those magazines have… never been right." 
 "Well, since I've received information directly from the source, I'll be sure to tell our writers to stop publishing nonsense rumours about you two," Elliott said.
 "I'd really appreciate that, thank you." His assurance lifted a weight from the pit of her stomach. "It was nice meeting you, Elliott," Gloria said, giving him a grateful nod. 
 "As it was meeting you." Elliott flashed a charming smile, and said with a wink, "I'll have to ask you for a dance later, if your date doesn't mind me monopolizing a bit more of your time." 
 She shot a glance over her shoulder. Hop turned away unsubtly, but she caught Leon's eyes. His expression was unreadable, almost stern, but when their eyes met, it vanished beneath his smile. The look on Leon's face had lasted but a moment, and it still managed to disconcert her as she headed back to them. His attention remained on Elliott for a while longer. 
 "Who was that?" Hop asked, eyeing Gloria's empty glass. "You didn't get me one?"  
"Sorry." She shrugged. "Elliott offered it to me, and he only had one." 
 "Elliott Murdoch," Leon said. His smile had faded, leaving his gaze distant. 
 "Wait, that was Elliott Murdoch?!" Sonia gasped. "As in, heir to the Murdoch empire? Son of Richard Murdoch, the wealthiest man in Galar? That Elliott Murdoch?!" 
 Gloria shrunk, her grip tightening around her glass. With Hop, Sonia and Leon staring at her, it was like she was being interrogated, forced under a spotlight. 
 "I think so…?" Gloria said meekly. "Is he that well known?" 
 "Of course he is!" Sonia gaped at her. "Don't tell me you didn't know who he was?" 
 "He has a certain… reputation," Leon said slowly, pausing as though he was mulling over his words. 
 "What did he say?" Sonia asked. Her eyes sparkled with interest. "What did you talk about? Anything interesting? He offered you a drink- did he ask you to dance?" 
 "Um, we just introduced ourselves," Gloria said. "We didn't talk for that long." 
 Sonia sighed, deflating. "Aw, too bad. These functions get boring and tedious real quick without anything interesting to talk about." She took a long sip of her wine, and hooked her arm around Leon's, leaning against him slightly. He smiled at her warmly. "And the only thing interesting around here are the people, most of which I'd never see in person if not for Leon." 
 "So you've become a gossip," Hop huffed. "Never thought you had it in you, Sonia." 
 "That's Professor Sonia to you!" She rested her head against Leon's shoulder, peering at Hop with one eye open. "You might not be wearing your lab coat, but you're still my assistant! Don't make me fire you for insubordination!" Her lips, shiny with a coat of crimson lipstick, pursed into a pout. 
 Hop recoiled in shock, while Leon chuckled. 
 "Don't mind her," Leon said, his affection clear in his voice, "she gets a bit testy when she's had wine." 
 Gloria looked away. Their casual display of affection, the tenderness in Leon's eyes, made her chest tighten. She swallowed as a vice constricted around her throat. The conversation before her became a blur of noise, her concentration fading, and her gaze drifted past Sonia to the people standing on the opposition side of the room.  
Her heart stopped. She recognised him instantly across the grand ballroom, from the way he stood tall with confidence, the way he held his head high. 
 Bede. He was breathtakingly beautiful- even from a distance, the sight of him whisked the air from her lungs in a silent gasp. He wore a tailcoat coloured a deep lavender, his usually unruly hair parted to the side and smoothed down as much as his curls would allow, his fringe kicking up in parts that sat beside his right ear. Gloria couldn't breathe for a moment. She forgot where she was, who she was, what she was doing. Her feet moved beneath her, drawing her a single step towards him. 
 She froze, heart lodged in her throat. There was an arm linked around his. Desperately, Gloria glanced at the woman on Bede's arm. She braced herself. Every fibre of her body tensed, instinctively wincing, waiting for the pain. 
 It never came. The woman on his arm balanced herself with a dark, ornately carved wooden cane. Her floor-length dress matched the dark lavender of Bede's tailcoat, Ms Opal's outfit topped with a gorgeous, lavender headpiece. 
 He'd come with Ms Opal. Gloria stared at them, her heart plopping into her stomach in shame. Bede always attended events with Ms Opal, she'd accompanied him the before, it made sense that this year would be the same. Gloria had gotten herself worked up over nothing. Over less than nothing, and she cursed herself for being so stupid. Her feelings towards him addled her mind. She saw things, worried about things, that weren't there. It turned her into a lovesick fool. An idiot. 
 Gloria huffed and forced down the feelings welling up in her chest. The yearning, the longing, that she felt towards Bede tugged on her heart despite the creeping fear that always remained one step behind. A lump settled in her throat again. Heat washed over her eyes. She blinked it away and quashed everything else. Her fear would protect her. She wore it as a shield, wrapped it around her heart like a cloak, and refused to budge. She wouldn't give in. The distance between them kept her safe- a wedge, a dark rift, she refused to cross. Gloria would stay here, on the other side of the ballroom, and let the night pass without incident. Without pain. This way, she didn't have to pretend. She didn't have to lie. To herself, to Bede, to her heart. 
 If that meant all she could do was watch him in silence, then she would. To keep herself safe, she would. 
 You'll be okay, Gloria told herself. Soothing the ache in her heart. If you stay away from him, you'll be okay. It's for the best. 
 She sighed, and let herself glance at Bede one final time. Their eyes met. Through the mingling guests filling the space between them, he looked straight at her. 
 And took a step forward. 
 Gloria grabbed Hop's arm and yanked him towards the dancefloor. "We're dancing," she said- ordered. No room for argument in her tone. 
 Hop stumbled, almost tripping on his feet as she pulled him away from Sonia and Leon. Away from Bede. "What? Now?" 
 "Now." Gloria slammed her glass down on a table as they passed it, not slowing her pace in the slightest. Her heart thumped rapidly in her ears, silencing Hop's grumbles of protest, and she forced herself onwards, fueled by panic, by her nerves, by the fear spreading through her lungs. 
 Bede had stepped towards her. 
 Gloria pulled Hop amidst the dancers, not waiting for the current song to end, and turned towards him. She grabbed his hand, his shoulder, and they fell into step with the music. At this distance, she couldn't hide from Hop the shadows, the fear, behind her eyes. 
 "What happened?" Hop asked quietly. 
 He instantly settled into their dance, realising this wasn't just one of Gloria's impulsive whims. Their week of practice paid off as they turned in sync. 
 "I saw him." It came out as a whisper, as quiet as a gasp. "And he-" 
 Gloria clamped her eyes shut for a second, for a step of their dance, and she sucked in a breath. Tears blinked away. 
 "He saw me," she said. Knowing that somewhere across the ballroom, Bede was behind her. 
 "Your eyes met?" Hop stepped right, and she followed. 
 Gloria nodded. She tightened her grip on Hop's shoulder as the world threatened to crumble beneath her feet. Unbalanced no longer described how she felt- she wasn't stumbling, she was falling. 
 "It was bound to happen, Glo," Hop said gently. He didn't patronise her, he understood the roots of her fear, the grip it had on her, and remained realistic. "He's your friend, it makes sense that he'd be looking for you. It's normal to want to hang with people you know at events like this." 
 Gloria let his words wash over her as they slowed to a stop when the song ended. Some of the couples around them departed, new ones taking their places, and the music began again. 
 "I don't want to talk to him," Gloria said. Her heart squeezed tight. "Not yet. Not tonight."
 Hop gave her a rueful smile. "You can't avoid him forever, you know." 
 "I can try." She looked away, keeping in step with him as they followed the music. 
 "Is that what you want?" 
 Hop's words echoed the pain in her heart. The longing. The desire to risk it all. 
 "It doesn't matter what I want," she said finally. "This is what I need." 
 "If you say so…" Hop sounded unsure, but Gloria remained resolute. 
 She needed to avoid Bede. They danced for a while, until Hop's steps became sloppy and out of time, and Gloria decided to let him rest. They stepped off the dancefloor, and she immediately stepped into her role as the Champion, seeking out sponsors, esteemed guests, and patrons. People she recognised and strangers alike, anyone she could waste away time with.  She danced with a few young men, most of whom were heirs to their parent's companies or estates, until her feet began to ache. When she parted from the last one, her throat was dry and hoarse from talking. Her head spun from dancing too long. The endless names she needed to remember blurred together in her mind, leaving her nauseous again. She gave the tables of slowly diminishing food a wide berth, seeking out a waiter she could commandeer for a drink. 
 Someone stepped in front of her. Gloria stopped herself from sagging in frustration, her gaze following the waiter she'd been a split second from reaching. 
 "Sorry, if you don't mind, I was-" 
 A glass full of sparkling liquid appeared before her eyes. 
 "After one of these?" Elliott asked, holding out a drink to her. He held a partially empty glass in his other hand. 
 She smiled in relief at him. "Yes, thank you." Gloria accepted the glass and sipped at it slowly, letting the bubbly liquid ease the ache in her throat. "How come you always seem to have just what I need?" she asked, breathing a laugh. 
 "I'll admit, the first time was a coincidence, but I was looking for an excuse to talk to you again," Elliott said. 
 Gloria tipped her glass to her lips, drinking as she thought. "You were?" 
 "It's not every day one gets a chance to talk with the Champion of Galar," he said, smiling softly. 
 His comment made her feel slightly giddy, as though the bubbles in her drink had filled her lungs. "It's not every day I get to speak with the son of the richest man in Galar," Gloria replied. "I feel like you one up me here."
 She found herself relaxing further as he laughed. There was something about him, something comforting, and she ignored her sore feet when he asked her to dance. She felt like she was floating. Walking on clouds. She danced with Elliott, a smile on her face the entire time, and came out of it giddy and breathless. 
 "Okay, I think that's enough dancing for one night," Gloria said as they stepped off the dancefloor, gently fanning her face with her hand. Her cheeks were flushed with warmth. "Who knew dancing could be such a workout?" 
 "I'm impressed," Elliott said, turning his back to her for a moment to grab a pair of drinks off the tray of a passing waiter. "You turned down all offers to dance last year, so I thought perhaps you didn't know how. It seems I was mistaken- you dance like an expert." 
 He turned back to her, handing her a glass that she eagerly accepted. 
 "Thank you," Gloria said, sipping her drink to keep herself from telling him she didn't know how to dance until a week ago. "Do those doors open?" She nodded towards the glass balcony doors. 
 "Why don't we find out?" Elliott smiled at her, and she followed him over to the doors. With a simple push, the towering glass door opened, and Gloria skipped out into the cool night air. 
 "That's so much better," she sighed happily. Her body buzzed and tingled with warmth, and she welcomed the embrace of the cold air around her. She stepped over to the edge of the balcony, staring out at the lights of Wyndon. The Ferris wheel turned as a dark form on the horizon. 
 "I'll join you in a moment," Elliott said, "I'm just going to grab one of those cakes before they all disappear." 
 Gloria hummed her response, closing her eyes as a gentle breeze swept over her. She felt so light. So free, so uncaring. Everything she'd worried about had fallen off her shoulders, drifting away into the night with the wind. Footsteps sounded behind her, and Gloria turned with a smile. 
 "Back so soon? I thought-" She stopped. It wasn't Elliott behind her. Her mouth dropped open with a wordless gasp, and she reached for him without thinking. Time slowed around her as her fingers touched the soft fabric of his tailcoat. 
 "Bede?" His name fell from her lips in awe. He stared down at her, violet eyes full of longing, and his expression was so soft, so tender, that she felt lightheaded beneath his gaze. The tips of her fingers remained against his chest.  
"Gloria…" the sound of her name sent a tingle down her spine. "You look so-" Bede's eyes shifted from hers. "Nice," he said, clearing his throat. "You look nice." 
 Floating. Gloria was floating. Why had she avoided him? She couldn't remember. Whatever the reason was, it no longer mattered. He was here. 
 "You look nicer," she said, pouting. "How is it that you're so much prettier than me? It's unfair!" 
 Bede blinked at her, and she snorted a laugh. 
 "Y'know what? It doesn't matter," Gloria said. 
 Bede's expression softened. He searched her eyes for a moment, once again captivating her with his gaze. 
 "I see you found time to continue practicing how to dance," he said. A hint of pride showed in his smile. "You had me worried- I wasn't sure that you'd be able to keep up your practice since you were so busy."
 Busy? Had she been busy? She couldn't remember. Gloria found herself leaning towards him. Drawn towards him. Her palm flattened against his chest as she stepped closer. Something bloomed in her chest. Something warm, something powerful, and her heart felt full. The words were on her tongue before she could think.  
"Bede, I think…" She felt fuzzy, giddy. And light. She felt so, so light. "I think I-" 
 "Where did you get that?" 
 "What?" Gloria stared at him for a second. He was frowning at the glass in her hand. Bede reached for it, and she tugged it away from him. "Hey, get your own!"  
"Gloria, that's alcohol," Bede said with a huff. He looked at her incredulously, and she snorted. 
 "No, it's not," she laughed. "It's non-alcoholic sparkling wine. Arceus, Bede. I'm not an idiot!" 
 "Where did you get it?" Bede asked again. His expression turned serious. 
 She waved his concerns off with her hand. "The waiters are carrying them around. Elliott grabbed one for me." 
 "Elliott." The look on his face, grim with alarm flashing behind his eyes, sent a rush of cold clarity through her when he asked, "and who was it that told you it was non-alcoholic?" 
 Gloria's heart thumped slowly in her chest. "Elliott did…" 
 No.
 She stared at the glass in her hand, a few centimetres of the bubbly liquid remaining. The third drink she'd accepted from Elliott. 
 This isn't… 
 "But I…" Gloria shook her head. She couldn't think straight. Her mind was a blur, her thoughts fuzzy and clouded. 
 Oh.
 Oh no.
 Her heart plummeted into her stomach as everything fell into place. The way she'd been feeling, how comfortable she left around Elliott when she'd never met him before, how easily she mingled with sponsors and patrons without a worry. The strange confidence, the peace, that had overcome her. And now, the thick fog that had overcome her mind, the weightlessness she felt, carried an new meaning. One that made her feel ill. 
 Bede gently took the glass from her and turfed the remaining wine into the planter beside them. 
 "How many have you had?" he asked.
 Gloria reached for the balcony's railing, her fingers trembling around it as she tried to steady herself. The drinks Elliott gave her, one by one, flashed in her mind. She tasted the wine on her tongue. She'd been so stupid, so naive, to trust him, to accept those drinks. Disquiet settled heavy on her shoulders.
 "That was my third…" Gloria answered. Her mind clouded with disbelief. 
 Was this really happening…?
 "Have you eaten anything?" 
 She squeezed her eyes shut. Clenched her jaw to stop her voice from trembling. "No," she replied in a whisper. In shame. 
 Bede's touch on her arm almost brought her to tears. 
 "I don't… I don't understand…" Her voice caught. Fear loomed over her heart, crushed her chest, her soul. It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense. "Why would he…?"  
Footsteps made Gloria glance towards the balcony doors, Bede turning to face Elliott as he paused in the wedge of light streaming from the ballroom. He held a glass of wine in either hand. 
 "You gave her alcohol," Bede said firmly. He straightened, standing tall between Gloria and Elliott, and yet she still felt small. Vulnerable.
 Afraid. 
 Elliott shrugged. "The jig is up, is it? Shame. We hadn't even gotten to the good part yet." 
 Gloria stared at the floor, eyes wide and unseeing. She felt sick.
 "And what were you hoping would happen?" Bede asked. 
 "Does it matter?" Elliott breathed a laugh, remaining unperturbed. "Someone has to try and liven up these dull events. I thought that perhaps a drunk, underage Champion would do the trick." 
 Again, he shrugged. Everything he said, his calm voice, his laughter, fell over Gloria in a daze. It didn't feel real. Like she was somewhere else, watching this unfold. Witnessing a dream- a nightmare. One she couldn't escape from. Fear crushed her heart, paralysed her breathing, turned her blood into ice. Cold. She felt cold. 
 "You-!" Bede's hands balled into fists. "How dare you-" 
 She reached for him the second he moved, gripping the tails of his coat before he'd taken a single step. 
 "Don't-" A tear slipped from her eyes. "Don't go…" 
 The fury on Bede's face shattered as she began to cry. The fear she'd been holding back engulfed her all at once, buckling her knees and tearing a sob from her throat. Bede whirled on his feet, holding her arms gently before she could collapse. Gloria fell against him. Into him. Breaking into pieces once again. 
 Elliott snorted. "I suppose this will do," he said, voice flat with boredom. "At least it'll be amusing to see how she gets out of this." He shrugged and stalked back inside. 
 Gloria squeezed her eyes shut tight. She grit her teeth, grinding out her pain, her fear, her indignation. Outrage burned up her throat. She wanted to scream, to cry and wail. She wanted to tear after Elliott and shove his pretty little face into the tiles, to send her Pokemon after him and make him regret the day he chose to mess with the Champion of Galar. 
 But she didn't. Gloria pulled her face off Bede's shoulder and took a shuddery breath. She wiped at her tears with the backs of her hands before Bede produced a white handkerchief, lined with intricate lace details, and held it out to her. She blinked at it, at him, and somehow, it made her laugh. 
 "What are you doing with this?" she asked, her voice strained, yet soft with amusement. She accepted the handkerchief and dabbed away her tears as delicately as she could. Her makeup smeared across it.
 "Ms Opal insisted I carry one with me 'just in case,'" Bede said. His mouth twitched with the faintest smile, though it faded all too quickly. 
 "I'm beginning to think that Ms Opal can see the future," she laughed quietly before her lips began to wobble again with the threat of tears, and she grimaced. "Arceus, my makeup is ruined. I spent so much money on it, too…" Gloria sighed, lowering her hands in frustration. "Look at me- some guy I met tonight got me drunk and I'm worrying about my makeup!" 
 "Here, let me help." Bede took the handkerchief off her and gently dabbed it across her cheeks. "I wouldn't say it's ruined…" 
 Gloria huffed. "I must look like a Pangoro by now." She sniffled and closed her eyes, turning her cheek towards Bede as he patted away at the remains of her makeup. 
 "You look beautiful." 
 Her eyes snapped open. Bede's hand stilled by her cheek, the tips of his fingers brushing her skin. He looked right into her eyes. There was something in his gaze that stirred the very depths of her heart, and her lips parted with a silent, broken gasp. His eyes flicked down to follow the movement. 
 Bede looked away, clearing his throat. "A-Anyway, I wouldn't worry about your makeup," he said quickly. His voice hitched and he stammered, the sound of which sent a spear of heat through Gloria's body. "We should be able to it clean up enough that-" 
 Bede jolted when her fingers cupped his cheek, eyes widening in shock, and the handkerchief fell from his hand. He was beautiful. Stunned into silence, Bede's violet eyes searched hers, and her heart stirred again. Her heart, her soul, reached for him. She swept her thumb across his cheek. Her mind was fuzzy. Clouded. She wondered what she was doing, leaning towards him like this. Drawn to him like never before. Nothing else in the world mattered- not her fear, not her pain, not the Gala taking place in the hotel just metres away. 
 Nothing else mattered to her than Bede. 
 His mouth opened with words he couldn't voice. Concern, then wonder, filled his eyes as he slowly rested a hand over hers on his cheek. 
 He's beautiful, she thought again.
 Bede stole his hand away, his eyes flicking from hers. "Gloria, what are you-?" He fumbled over his words, a blush blazing across his cheeks that made her heart swell. "You- you're drunk." 
 "Mm…" She didn't care. It was Bede. 
 This was what she wanted. Her hand trailed across his cheek and into his hair, her fingers weaving through those platinum blond strands. 
 Bede startled at her touch. "I think we should-" 
 Silence. And warmth. A soft warmth that spread from her lips, through her body, her chest, her heart. It felt right. 
 This was it. 
 This was what she'd wanted all along. 
 - 
Bede couldn't breathe. His mind screeched to a halt when Gloria pressed her lips against his. She stole the words from his mouth, silencing him mid-sentence, and kissed him.  
And he let her. The delightful sensation of her lips gliding across his addled his brain, his senses. Bede had wanted to kiss her for so long, he'd fought the desire within him to do so for months, that he couldn't stop himself from reciprocating instinctively. A gasp died in his throat. Without thinking, he followed the movement of her lips in a nervous dance that left him dizzy. It was slow and tender, and her lips were soft, so soft and warm, carrying the slightest hint of something sweet- 
 The wine. 
 "Holy shit biscuits!" 
 A gasp from the balcony doors jolted Bede back to reality, and he snapped away from Gloria, slamming the back of his hand against his mouth, and turned towards Hop.  
"This- This isn't what it looks like!" Bede protested, his voice cracking, body blazing with heat. He burned from head to toe, his cheeks searing hotly with a dark blush he knew was obvious for all to see. He jumped as Gloria's head dropped to his shoulder.  His lips still tingled from their kiss. 
 "Sure, mate." Hop held up his hands, taking a slow and stiff step backwards. "Whatever you say. I'll just… leave you two alone now…" 
 "Wait!" Bede glanced down at Gloria, realising how limp and boneless she felt against him. Her eyes were squeezed shut. "I need your help." 
 Hop frowned, then saw what Bede had- Gloria's pained expression, her grip tight on Bede's tailcoat. He rushed over, his eyes widening.
 "What happened? Did you kiss her so hard she fainted?" 
 "N-No!" Bede snapped, heat shooting down his spine at the memory of what had just happened.  
Gloria had kissed him. 
 "She's drunk," he explained to both Hop and himself. Reminding himself that Gloria hadn't been thinking clearly. 
 "What?! How?" Hop gaped.  
A low groan came from Gloria. "I don't… feel right…" 
 Bede's heart squeezed tight in his chest. He gently rubbed her back, wishing he could do more. Now wasn't the time to get caught up in the fact that she'd kissed him, not when she was suffering like this. Not when someone had done this to her.
 "Elliott Murdoch," he said through clenched teeth. "Know the name?" 
 Hop nodded. "That's the guy who gave Gloria a drink earlier-" he stopped and blanched. "No… Was that…?" 
 "It was." Bede nodded grimly. "Elliott has been giving her alcohol under the pretense that it was non-alcoholic sparkling wine." 
 "That douchebag!" Hop huffed, sending a searing glare towards the doors leading to the Gala. "What's his problem?!" 
 "A lack of entertainment, apparently." Bede swallowed the putrid taste of bile that crawled up his throat. 
 Gloria's grip on Bede tightened. She pulled off him enough so that she was no longer sinking into him, and groaned deep in her throat.
 "I feel sick…" 
 "I don't doubt that," Bede said softly. He let her stand on her own, but kept close enough to her that he could catch her if she fell. Her gaze was unfocused, brown eyes glassy and distant. "You've had three glasses of wine on an empty stomach."  
"Not to mention that you're not exactly the tallest person around," Hop pointed out.  
Gloria made a disgruntled sound in her throat, leveling a pained glare at him. "Fuck off, Hop," she huffed. 
 Bede blinked at her, and she frowned. 
 "What?" Gloria asked, before realising what she'd said. "Oh, shit. Wait- I mean- fuck." She closed her eyes and huffed as Hop stifled a laugh. "Shut up, Hop! You're not helping!" 
She grumbled, and held onto Bede's arm for a moment as her expression grew pained. 
 "Yeah, I… really don't feel well," Gloria said weakly. 
 "Shit, Glo. You don't look well," Hop said, gently rubbing her back in circles as her eyes squeezed shut. 
 Bede couldn't begin to imagine how she was feeling, from the effects of the alcohol and the knowledge that this had been done to her deliberately. Her small frame seemed even tinier than usual as she clung to him. He dropped his hand from her shoulder, trailing his fingers down her arm to take hers, and stopped as he brushed a familiar bracelet. The one he'd given her on White Day. A silver bracelet adjourned with diamond stars that glistened a soft pink in the light. She'd worn it. His gift. It made his heart ache for her, more determined than ever to do what he could to help her. He couldn't ease her suffering, he couldn't take that from her, but there was something else he could do. 
 He could get her to safety. 
 "We need to get her home," Bede said. His mind worked ahead of him, already churning through their options.  
"She's drunk, can barely stand on her own, and if you haven't noticed, the ballroom is full of people!" Hop raised an incredulous eyebrow at Bede. "How on earth do you expect us to get her home without anyone seeing her like this?"
 "That was part of Elliott's scheme," Bede sighed. "However, we're not completely out of options just yet. Marnie came with her brother, Piers, correct?" 
 Hop nodded. "Yeah, I spoke with them earlier." 
 "Good." That could work. "From what I've heard, Piers is an expert at drawing a crowd. Do you believe he'd be willing to cause a distraction for us? Marnie and I can alert the staff to our predicament, and you should be able to leave through the back of the hotel, out through the staff entrance. It wouldn't be the first time that incidents similar to this have occured, and staff at the Rose of the Rondelands are trained to be discreet. We shouldn't need to worry about one of them leaking this to the press." 
 "Piers will definitely be on board once he hears what happened to Glo," Hop agreed. "Although you might have to restrain Marnie from going after Elliott herself. Even I don't want to walk away knowing he's still in there, getting away with this scot-free." 
 "Oh, I have a thought for how to deal with him," Bede said. He looked towards the ballroom, spying Marnie in a crimson dress next to Piers in a matching suit. He eased Gloria off him gently so that she could lean on Hop instead. "Wait until everyone's attention is on Piers. The staff should prepare a way out for you- head for it as quick as you can." 
Bede gave Gloria's arm a final, gentle squeeze. Her eyes were shut, her head resting against Hop's shoulder, and she gave no indication that she'd felt his touch at all. Shallow breaths sounded between her parted lips. He turned towards the ballroom, steeling himself. 
 "Wait, before you go-" Hop began, looking sheepishly away. "You've, uh, got some lipstick on your mouth." 
 Bede stiffened with a shot of heat. He furiously wiped at his mouth, his hand coming away with a slash of pink that matched the colour of Gloria's lipstick. He cleared his throat roughly. The blush on his cheeks sizzled in the cold air, and his body filled with warmth. The memory of her kissing him returned with force. He felt a ghost of her touch, a whisper of her lips, against his. 
 "Thank you," Bede said awkwardly. He fixed gaze on the ballroom beyond the glass in front of him as his nerves crackled alight at the reminder that Gloria had kissed him. The smudge of lipstick on the back of his hand. 
 In that moment, he hadn't noticed the glaze over her eyes. Bede knew very well that she had to be drunk, he'd told her himself, but when she'd reached for him, he hadn't been able to react in time. He'd been too speechless, too shocked, to stop her. 
 And she'd kissed him. Gloria, the one who denied herself love, who feared and despised the very thought of it, who swore she'd only kiss someone she was in a relationship with, had kissed him. He looked back at her now, standing only with the support of Hop, and his heart clenched with regret.
 He should have stopped her. How could he be happy about this when she'd kissed him under the influence of alcohol? Bede sighed and forced those thoughts away. He'd apologize to her later. When they could sit down and talk about this, when she was home safe and recovered, he'd ask for her forgiveness in letting his feelings get the better of him. It wasn't just that Gloria had kissed him- he had let her. He swallowed his guilt and met Hop's eyes. Hop nodded. 
 "Alright. Let's hope this works," Bede said and made for the ballroom, leaving Hop and Gloria, his feelings of regret, behind. 
 -
 It was like Hop had said- the instant Bede told Piers what had happened, he'd agreed to his part in the plan without another word. Marnie had glared something fierce, her dark eyes growing cold and sharp, and it was only the gentle hand Piers placed on her shoulder, the infinitesimal shake of his head, that stopped her from tearing after Elliott. Begrudgingly, Marnie played her part, waving over a waiter as Piers made for the band. Whispers spread through the crowd, heads turning, guests shuffling closer to the dancefloor and the band to get a better look. Bede swept his gaze around the room, and soon enough, everyone's attention was on Piers and the band as he began an impromptu live performance. The staff Marnie had spoken to waited by the staff entrance, and once all backs were turned to the balcony, Hop came through with Gloria staggering on his arm. Her bare feet were silent on the floor, Hop carrying her heels in his right hand, his left arm around her back. Marnie rushed over to help them usher Gloria out, and Bede turned from them. With the band playing, he needn't worry about his conversion being overheard. 
 As Hop and Marnie disappeared with Gloria through the staff entrance, Bede stepped up to Ms Opal. He offered her his arm, and she took it, meeting the intention in his gaze with a smile. 
 "What is it, dear?" Ms Opal asked. "What has that rascal Elliott done to poor Gloria?" 
 Bede's eyebrows lifted. He recalled Gloria's comment that Ms Opal was psychic, and wondered if she knew how astute that observation was. 
 "I'll get to that in a moment," Bede said, and Ms Opal nodded in understanding. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe you're well acquainted with his father, Richard Murdoch? If so, then there's a favour I'd like to ask of you."
 Ms Opal smiled. Her eyes, keen as ever, sharpened with an intensity that made Bede stiffen slightly. "Ask away, my dear. I'll assist you in any way if it will help Gloria." 
 A weight eased off Bede's chest, and he nodded. Masked by the sound of the band, he told Ms Opal everything; from what Elliott did to Gloria, to his plan for retribution that would fall upon the scum who had dared harm the Champion. All the while, Ms Opal maintained her smile. 
 A smile that reminded Bede that she had once been the most powerful trainer in Galar. 
 "That can be done," Ms Opal said after Bede laid out his plan. "Since Elliott wished for entertainment so badly, I suppose we have no choice but to give it to him."  
The venom in her voice sent a cold shiver through Bede. 
 "Thank you," he said, grateful. 
 Ms Opal patted his arm. "No need to thank me. You've done your part in getting Gloria out of here safely. That's commendable in itself. Leave the rest to me." 
 Bede nodded to her, before sending a glance to the door Gloria had left through. The night wasn't over yet. Not for Gloria. He doubted she was experiencing the worst of it yet, and wished he could have left with her, wished he could be the one at her side. 
 He wished he could have done more. Perhaps, if he had gathered the courage to speak with her earlier, this wouldn't have happened in the first place, and Gloria needn't have suffered. Bede brushed that thought aside. There was no point in dwelling in the past. His regret and guilt had no place here, not anymore, not tonight. 
 Not when there was still hell to pay. 
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inkedstarlight · 4 years ago
Text
Sins of Hewn City
Summary: Cassian and Nesta are friends-with-benefits. When Cassian is gone for a business trip, Nesta isn’t patient enough to wait until he returns. She ventures to a scandalous nightclub, Hewn City, to find a suitable one-night stand. That is, until Cassian comes home early... 
Note: This is my first PWP and the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written so please be kind! Constructive criticism is always welcome. Let me know what y’all think! This fic includes some kinky stuff, a jealous Cassian, and (kind of) public sex. I’m going to post the second part soon!
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The heavy bass thrummed in Nesta’s ears, rendering her nearly deaf as she flirted with an attractive man at the bar. Red LED lights cast an alluring glow in the crowded room, giving a sense of anonymity to those bold enough to enter the nightclub’s door.
On a typical Friday night, Nesta would be at Rita’s with her friends. That, or writing smutty fanfiction. But she was bored of that routine. She was sick of the mediocre drinks Rita’s provided, sick of spending the entire evening on the sofa. More than that, she resented the fact that she hadn’t gone out once since Cassian had left for his trip. She felt like a puppy waiting for him to come home. She hadn’t gotten herself off since the night Cassian left. Which was more than a week ago. So, she decided to venture to a new club that night.
It was called Hewn City, notorious for its nudity and voyeurism. Dozens of people were on the dance floor grinding against one another and making out.  If you were looking somewhere to have meaningless, lustful sex, Hewn City was just the place. There was a room dedicated to explore erotic fantasies in the basement of the club. They called it the Court of Nightmares. From what Nesta had heard, there was little to no privacy down there. A place full of sins.
Though Nesta would never admit it outright, there was something… enticing about the concept. Perhaps it was the idea of being caught, the adrenaline rush of fucking someone in a room full of people.
Nesta had been alone the entire week. Cassian was at a business meeting a state over, and he would be back tomorrow. After trying to distract herself with television shows that evening, Nesta decided to go to Hewn City to find herself a one-night stand. Cassian and her were technically exclusive, but how exclusive could friends-with-benefits be?
Not very exclusive, she’d decided. That’s why she was letting the man in front of her buy her drinks and whisper sweet nothings in her ear. 
She had no idea what he said, but she giggled nonetheless. He seemed satisfied with her response, his hand travelling past her lower back to grab onto her ass. Nesta arched her body closer to him. She wasn’t here for pleasantries. No, she was here to bring a nameless man home – a man she’d never see again. A man to distract her from the fact that Nesta missed Cassian.
That’s when she felt someone staring at her, their gaze searing into her. Nesta turned her head to find the all too familiar hazel eyes – eyes that were narrowed with anger. Looking directly at her.
Fuck.
He said he was returning on Saturday. It was Friday night.
She had no idea how he’d found her. The only person she told was…
I’m going to kill Amren.
Cassian stood on the other side of the bar. He was wearing a business suit as if he’d come straight here from the airport. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows, his tight muscles stretching the white fabric. He had popped the collar, his tie loosened around his neck. Nesta noticed his unkempt hair that begged for her to run her fingers through it. Cassian was a smoldering mess. 
Ignoring the way her thighs clenched together at the mere sight of him, Nesta flashed Cassian a smirk. His jaw was clenched with anger, a storm brewing in those amorous eyes. Nesta had spent the week dreaming of his hard body against hers. He’d made her suffer through endless wet dreams, waking up to no one to give her reprieve. Nesta was done waiting for him, and she certainly wasn’t in the mood to deal with his dramatics.
She resumed her conversation with the man – his name forgotten the minute it left his lips – his leering hands brushing against her breasts, which were swelling thanks to Cassian’s heated gaze. She reached a manicured hand to grab the drink the man held. She took a large gulp, letting some whiskey dribble past her chin and down her bare chest. The man watched every movement as Nesta licked her glistening lips and leaned in to kiss him.
She was pulled away before she could get any further. She stumbled over her heels as a dark figure led her far away from the man. Nesta looked down at the strong hand that held her close, the veins in his arms bulging with strain. She tilted her chin up to look at Cassian.
Gods, she forgot how large he was.
Cassian stood several inches taller than her, his chest wide enough to swallow her entire body. Nesta inhaled the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with a musky undertone. She had once told him that she couldn’t control herself when he wore that cologne. He had worn it every day since.
Cassian looked down at her with a possessive glare. His teeth were bared, and Nesta watched as he swallowed deeply, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement. 
He was pure male.
“Who the fuck,” Cassian snarled, “is that?” His eyes ran down her scantily clad body so, so slowly. “And what the hell are you wearing?”
Nesta rolled her eyes. “He’s a friend.” She looked down at the wine red mini dress she wore, its deep V dipping all the way to her navel. It barely covered her ass, and she controlled the urge to smirk up at him with triumph. “And this is called a dress.”
She tried to walk away, but Cassian gripped her waist and swung her around to face him again. 
“Did you forget about my rules, sweetheart?” he seethed in her face.
 Of course, Nesta hadn’t forgot them. He had made them clear the day they fucked for the first time.
1. There must be clear consent along with an agreed upon safe word.
2. Cassian was the only man who could touch her. Neither of them were to see anyone else during their arrangement. Flirting was off limits.
3. Nesta was to accompany him to business events when he requested. 
4. No cuddling. No sleeping over. No feelings. 
Nesta let out a sigh and crossed her arms, which only accentuated her voluminous curves. Cassian watched, and something like hunger flashed in his eyes. “I was horny, and you were out of town. I’m not going to apologize for wanting to fuck someone else.”
Nesta was just baiting him at this point, but Cassian was so blinded with jealousy that he didn’t notice.
“You’re mine.” A shiver ran down Nesta’s spine at the statement. 
“I beg to differ,” she retorted. Nesta couldn’t help playing with him, pretending she was anything but his. Cassian was easy to tease. All Nesta had to do was flirt with another man or defy Cassian’s rules. If she did one of the two, Cassian was taking her roughly from behind and whispering in her ear that she was his.
“Oh?” he asked, taking a menacing step closer until their bodies were flush against each other. “You seem to be forgetting about those filthy texts you sent me the other night.”
She inwardly cursed. Nesta knew exactly what he was referring to. She had sent a picture of her naked body tangled in her sheets at two in the morning with a text accompanying it:
You should come home and fuck me.
His response had been instantaneous.
I was just going to text you. I’ve been thinking about you for the past hour. I’m so fucking hard for you, sweetheart.
She replied with two words. 
Show me.
The picture came through a minute later. He hadn’t been lying. Nesta moaned at the image and texted back:
When you get home, do whatever you please with me. I’m all yours.
 “You’re such a naughty girl, aren’t you, sweetheart?” He backed Nesta into a wall, trapping her with his body. People danced and touched each other around them. Nesta’s legs wobbled. 
Once Cassian had discovered that Nesta lost control when he talked dirty to her, he used that to his advantage. He had been able to make her come with just his hand and words. Cassian’s language had never been too explicit, though. Nesta hadn’t told him yet, but she wanted more. She wanted him to whisper the filthiest things in her ears until she could barely stand. 
Cassian took his hand and slid it up her bare thigh. Nesta couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her. He chuckled against her hair. “Gods, I love when you’re helpless.”
Nesta’s head fell back against the wall, giving him access to her bare neck. “Cass...”
He pressed his growing hardness against her stomach. “What is it, sweetheart?”
“I...” her mouth was dry as Cassian dragged his tongue over her exposed neck, leaving a path of wetness in his wake. “I want you to talk dirty to me.”
He bit the soft skin of her shoulder lightly, pulling back to look in her eyes. “I already do that, Nesta,” he murmured to her. “Tell me what you really want.”
“More,” she gasped against his touch. “I want more. Don’t hold back.”
Cassian pushed her against the wall roughly when the words left her lips. His hard chest was pushed up against her tits, putting pressure on her hardened nipples. He smirked down at her. “I’m going to enjoy punishing you, sweetheart. I’m going to make you wish you never laid a hand on that man.”
“Take me to your apartment,” Nesta pleaded with him. 
Cassian laughed quietly at her begging. His hand found her panties under the thin fabric of her dress - panties that were already soaking wet. Nesta’s core pooled with heat as his fingers travelled to the place that throbbed for him.
“I can’t wait that long,” Cassian murmured to her. Nesta wanted to cry out in protest. She needed him now - 
Cassian pulled her off the wall, gripping her upper arm tightly. Before Nesta could ask what he was doing, Cassian was leading her to stairs that led to the basement A sign was hung directly above the stairs.
Court of Nightmares.
Then, they descended into the dark room.
--------------------------------------------
I hope you guys enjoyed this! The second part will be posted shortly. Let me know if you want to be tagged in this/in any of my writing I publish. Thank you for reading! :)
READ PART TWO HERE
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ethereal-bang · 4 years ago
Text
Best Friend’s Brother’s Best Friend
Characters: Felix x female reader, Bang Chan, an OC
Words: 4.4k
Type: strangers to lovers, smut (kinda? suggestive), some major fluff cause I’m a softie for Lix
Request :  Hey! I would like to request smth but the fluff/smut scenario is complex (u can just ignore it if its too much for u😊) U are Bang chan's little sister's bestfriend n one time he comes back for vacation from korea w Felix n he proposes him to come sleep over, this day u r also supposed to sleep over at Chris' sister's, so u meet him n Felix for the first time. There's smth obvious between u n Felix, things go on n turns out also heated (sry i didn't know how to explain all of this🥺) Thank U☺️
Requests Are Open!
Warnings: mature content, not explicitly smut but things get pretty heated (will be pretty vanilla. dry humping, heavy kissing etc) Do Not Read if you are under the age of 18. This piece of work is intended for mature audiences only
You’ve always loved the summer. The feeling of freedom, no responsibilities and the exciting prospect of unknown adventures always brings a smile to your face.
Today is the same way. You take in the feeling of the sun warm on your back, the breeze through your hair as you ride your bike across town. The first day of summer has come, and you can’t wait to spend your days with those you hold dearest to you, like your best friend Mia.
Mia has been your friend since you were three years old. It started as two toddlers running around the playground together, your mothers keeping a watchful eye as you run through the grass and chase butterflies until your little legs give out. Many playdates were spent that way, slowly forming a bond that you knew would continue on through time and fallen leaves with the changing of each season.
Each year that past brought you new experiences. New classes, birthdays, crushes, heartbreak-- everything the two of you could've gone through together, you have. Your families even, are attached at the hip this point.
Take her older brother, Chan for instance. Only three years older than his sister, he took on the protective older brother role for you as well. Driving you to practice, helping you with homework, you name it. Although he can be a little annoying sometimes, as “big brothers” can be, you wouldn’t trade your friendship with him for the world. Which was why you were heartbroken when he was signed to JYP and off to South Korea, to pursue his dreams of making music.
You were proud of him, absolutely. He had worked so hard his entire life and you knew he was destined to do great things. The airport send off was sad, but promises of facetime calls and letters sent brought you slight comfort. 
Years went on, and your friendship with Mia, as well as Chan, never changed. Now graduated from high school, this summer was the most exciting one yet. Going off to college in the fall was daunting, but knowing that you wouldn’t have to worry about it for at least another three months meant that you could truly relax, and take in the newfound freedom that comes with being an adult.
Well, kinda.
You pulled up on your bike in front of Mia’s house; the large front porch with the cutest little swing out front reminding you of all the times you spent with her there after school. Images of hours spent running around the front yard and 25 cent lemonade stands fill your head as you make your way to the front door, not even bothering to knock because you knew Mia was home.
Setting your shoes at the door, you call out for your best friend. “Mia? It’s me, Y/N!” you say as you peak your head into the living room, finding no signs of life. “In the kitchen!” you hear her say and you immediately turn around to walk through the doors.
When you walk in, your heart soars as you spot a certain curly haired boy standing with her at the counter. “Chan!” you scream and basically knock him over. It’s been at least 4 years since you’ve last seen him, and the surprise makes your day better already. He gives you a hug and laughs his signature laugh, and you can't believe he’s actually here. “WHY didn’t you tell me you were coming home?!’ you say as you smack him on the shoulder. He pretends to be hurt and rolls his eyes. “Then it wouldn’t be a surprise, dummy” he says. It’s only then that you realize there’s someone else in the room.
You look over and immediately recognize Felix. You were obviously a fan of Stray Kids, how could you not be? This was the first time you’d met any of the other boys in person, though, and you blushed when you realized he was even more handsome than the videos made him out to be.
His blonde hair frames his face perfectly as he looks up at you, and you take in the way his freckles paint his face like the most beautiful constellation in the sky. You take in the shape of his nose, and his lips, the cupid’s bow prominent and his lips turned upwards into a shy smile. You realize that you’re staring, and the blush on your cheeks darken.
Chan clears his throat, aware of the awkward atmosphere as he laughs quietly. “Right, right. I forgot you two have never met. Y/N, this is Felix. Felix, this is Y/N, Mia’s best friend.” He says, gesturing between the two of you. Mia makes eye contact with Chan as the two of you awkwardly say your hellos, wiggling her eyebrows, and he waves her off. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” you say and stick your hand out. He stands up and does the same, shaking your hand softly. “It’s nice to meet you too! I hope we can get to know each other,” he says. You were no strange to how deep his voice is, but hearing it in person is completely different. The timbre of his voice sends a feeling up your spine that you haven’t felt in a long time. And then it strikes you. They’re here, not in Korea.
“Wait, why are the two of you here? N-not that I don't WANT you here or anything I just- you’re normally an ocean away an-” “Relax, Y/N,” Mia says, cutting off your confused rambling before you can dig yourself into a deeper hole. “Chan is home for a vacation and decided to bring ‘Lix along! Isn’t that exciting?” She says, glad to have her brother back home.
“Yep! The company decided we all needed a long break since we’ve been working so much this year, so we’ll be here for the next two months!” Chan says, and you beam. The whole summer! This opens up a brand new world of possibilities. “So,” you begin, all three of them looking at your expectantly.
“What do we do first?”
____________________________________
The first few weeks of summer are always the most exciting. Everything is a first. Movie nights, late night trips to the local diner, and catching fireflies in the backyard seem just that much more fun. You also got the chance to reconnect with Chan, and build a new friendship with Felix. 
Felix is an excitable soul. Always one for random adventures, the anticipation of the day’s activities always evident in his eyes that seem to sparkle at every moment. When it came to sleepovers, the two of you always seemed to be the first ones awake. This led to many early morning (if you call 8 am early) impromptu breakfasts together, sitting the Bang family kitchen and talking about anything and everything. Felix is incredibly funny, always having a reference or a joke up his sleeve no matter the conversation. 
Take yesterday, for example. The summer carnival in town is in full swing, and Mia thought it would be a great idea for the four of you to go. You get up bright and early and head over to their house, knocking on the door excitedly. Your breath catches in your throat when Felix opens the door. He had clearly woken up not too long before; His hair still a little messy, and a sleepy smile adorns his face when he realizes it’s you. You can’t help but giggle, he looks so cute in the early hours of the morning and it makes you want to reach up and push his puffy cheeks together. “Oh, h-hey y/n I didn’t know you’d be here so soon...I-I’m gonna go get dressed,” he stutters, letting you into the house and then rushing upstairs. 
____________
Once everyone is ready to go, you all pile into Mia’s car and head over to the carnival. The car ride is filled with singing along to the radio, windows down and taking in the sights of the city as it slowly wakes up. Something about the summer brings everyone outside, you think to yourself as you pass families sitting in patio areas for a nice breakfast and people out walking their dogs through the city streets.
Pulling into the parking lot, you bounce in your seat with excitement. It’s just opened for the day, and you can see the rides begin to move and lights turning on, adding to the atmosphere. You’re sat next to Mia in the front seat, but you can see Felix through the rearview mirror. Your eyes meet for a split second and you turn away, noticing the way his eyes sparkled when they met yours. “He’s probably just excited about the fair,” you think to yourself, shrugging it off. 
Chan and Felix are the first two out of the car, followed by Mia and then yourself. The walk to the ticket booth was short, but was filled with Chan’s excited noises as he talked about everything he wanted to do while at the carnival. It was the first time he’d been in almost 5 years, and he said it was something he had missed while overseas. 
Waiting in line at the ticket booth, you take in your surroundings as you wait for the others to buy their tickets. People have now actually made their way inside, and you can hear the music coming from the various games and rides all around you, along with the screams of the people already on some of the rollercoasters.
You’re broken out of your thoughts by Felix’s deep voice, hearing him say “2 tickets, please” to the lady at the window. Confused, you tug on his sleeve and look at him. “Felix,” you start but he smiles and shakes his head, opting to wrap your hand around his own arm as he says “Don’t worry about it, I got it.”
You feel butterflies in your chest at the action, but try not to let yourself be so easily affected. Instead, he pulls you along with Chan and Mia, and you make your way into the park. 
“So...what do we ride first?” Chan asks. He looks over to you and Felix’s intertwined arms and raises his eyebrows, giving Felix a look that luckily you didn’t see because you were too busy trying to decide if you wanted to play a game first or go on one of the rollercoasters instead.
“Let’s go play one of those first!” Mia chimes in, spotting one of those games where you throw a baseball to knock down some bottles. She’s always been the competitive type, so it’s no surprise to you as she walks over to the games, teasing Felix that he doesn’t stand a chance up against her.
This declaration of war seemed to spur something on in Felix, determination in his eyes as he watches Mia knock nearly every bottle down. She looks at him as she’s handed her prize, a little pink stuffed monkey from the middle shelf that she holds dearly to her chest. “Beat that, Felix.” she laughs as he steps up to the game booth.
You stand beside Chris and Mia and watch as Felix begins throwing the baseballs. With ridiculous precision, he knocks down two bottles. Then another three. Then another two more. You’re all watching in surprise as Felix knocks the rest of the bottles down with his final baseball, eyes wide and Mia pouting, realizing she’s been beat.
The bell dings, and the carnival worker cheers as he tells Felix to pick anything from the top shelf. He grabs a plush, cartoon cat toy and immediately turns around and hands it to you. “Here, you can have it,” he says, a blush adorning his cheeks. Your expression mirrors his as you take the toy and hold it close to your chest. Mia and Chan both roll their eyes at the innocent display of affection. Neither of them can believe that the two of you are so absolutely oblivious to each other’s feelings. 
_______
Many rollercoaster rides and carnival food later, the sky is beginning to grow dark. The day was spent playing rock paper scissors to decide who rides with who, who pays for food, and who holds the other’s things when the ride won’t allow everyone to ride together. It’s the most fun day you’ve had in a long time, and you’re thankful that you get to spend it with the people you hold dearest to you.
The sun slowly setting is making Felix look absolutely beautiful, and you have to stop yourself from constantly staring at his skin and the way the sunlight makes his freckles stand out even more than normal.
Once you return to the Bang residence, everyone goes off to do their own thing; Mia to take a shower, Chan to play some video games, and you decide to go to the backyard. Opting to sit on the bench off the back porch, you smile as you see fireflies blinking throughout the yard. Moments like these were your favorite, the calm breeze through your hair as the air is still a little sticky; once the sun sets it will cool down, so you put up with it for now.
You’re a little surprised when you see Felix come to join you outside, you thought he had been playing games with Chan upstairs. “Hey,” he says with a smile. You nod your head and he takes a seat next to you. “Penny for your thoughts?” He asks as he notices the far away look in your eyes. 
“I’m just thinking about how much fun this summer has been. How much today has been. Thank you for the stuffed animal, by the way.” You say with a blush on your cheeks. He rubs the back of his neck, feeling embarrassed and a little nervous. “Oh, yeah, no problem I mean, I know you like cats so..” “Yeah..” you say, both of you trailing off into a comfortable silence.
“You know,” you start off, “I’m really glad Chan brought you back home with him. It’s nice to finally get to know you,” you say quietly. Felix smiles and moves a little closer to you. “Yeah? I agree. I’m glad I came with him, too.” he says. He’s close enough to you on the bench that your shoulders are touching, and the proximity makes you nervous. You can feel him looking at you as your eyes wander across the back yard, watching a bunny run into the bushes. You turn to look at him, and he’s so close that time feels like it’s stood still.
He’s moving closer towards you, and your breath catches in your throat. Is he about to kiss you? Your mind is going haywire. His lips are less than an inch away from yours, and you close your eyes out of reflex. One slight move and he could jus-
“Hey guys! Let’s go get dinner, Chan says he’s paying.” You and Felix jump apart as Mia is suddenly at the back door. Scrambling to your feet, you can’t look Felix in the eye, embarrassed by almost getting caught with what was about to happen. “O-oh yeah, sure!” Felix says, just as startled as you are. He lets you head in the door before him, and you try to shake the butterflies when you remember the feeling of him so close.
____________
Today, it’s Mia who wakes up before the boys do, so the two of you wander into the kitchen, making breakfast for everyone before Felix and Chan wake up. Mia passes you the pancake mix that she’s just finished making, and you sprinkle some blueberries into the batter that you’ve put on the griddle. “Who’re the blueberries for?” Your best friend asks as she cuts some more fruit to put out for everyone. “Oh they’re for Felix, he likes blueberries,” you say as you absentmindedly wait for the pancake to cook enough to flip over. 
“You know, Felix seems to have taken a liking to you,” she teases, popping a piece of watermelon into her mouth. You roll your eyes at her, a sense of false hope spreading in your chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, hoping that you can convince her and possibly yourself, that there’s nothing there. 
“Come on y/n,” she starts, “the two of you literally ditched me and Chan the other night to sit outside and stare at fireflies before dinner. And don't think I didn’t see how close he was to you when I came outside! You just need to say something to him already. I’m begging you.” She watches you take the pancake off the griddle and place it on a plate, grabbing the bowl of pancake batter and starting on another one. 
“I don’t know Mia, maybe he wasn’t trying to kiss me! Maybe I just had something on my face! Felix is a nice guy he’d do that kind of thing for me,” you reason. In your mind, it was so far from believable that Felix could have any type of feelings for you. He’s and idol, surrounded by some of the prettiest and most talented girls around, there’s no way he’d settle for someone as normal as you.
“I see those gears turning in your head, y/n, don’t think too much of it otherwise you’re just gonna make yourself sad. He IS a nice guy, but I also can’t lie to you and tell you he doesn’t look at you the way Chan looks at every dog he’s ever seen,” she laughs. 
You were about to open your mouth to argue, but you’re saved by the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. Chan comes first, Felix following close behind. Both of them have clearly just woken up, probably from the smell of the pancakes that you just remembered you were making. Luckily, you noticed just in time to take them off the stove and put the remaining pancakes on everyone’s plates.
“Good morning sleepyheads. Glad you could finally join us,” Mia jokes as she places the boys’ plates in front of them “Ooooo blueberries!” Felix says as he takes a look at the pancakes on his plate, and Mia shoots you a knowing look. You kick her under the table, and remain quiet as breakfast begins.
_________
The four of you decided that staying inside was the best course of action, the summer weather was in full effect today, and none of you wanted to face the July heat. The day was spent making lemonade, sharing youtube videos and  playing multiple rounds of uno, laughter filling the house because Chan and Felix were hellbent on making each other lose (which Felix did. A lot.) It was so normal, you had almost forgotten about the little moment you had with Felix last night. Almost.
Later in the afternoon, Chan speaks up all of a sudden. “Hey, Mia, remember we need to head over to Auntie’s house really quick, like Mom asked us to this morning.” He said. Looking confused, Mia walks into the living room to look at him. “What are you talking about? Mom didn’-” she stops her sentence when she sees that Chan is looking at her urgently, eyes flitting between you and Felix, who are currently engrossed in a movie on TV.
Catching on quick, Mia nods her head. “Oh, yeah, that’s right. Auntie’s house.” You look up when you hear her voice. “Auntie’s house? That sounds fun, let’s go!” 
“No!” Chan says quickly, and now he has Felix’s attention as well. “It’s a...family thing,” Mia says, trying to save her brother’s ass so they don’t get caught. “Right, right. It’s a family thing so you can’t come we’ll be back see you later!!” Chan say as he pulls Mia out the front door. Raising your eyebrows, you question your best friend’s weird antics as they shut the door. “Ooookay,” Felix laughs once the front door closes. “What do you think they’re problem is?” You question and turn back to Felix. He looks a little nervous, and you’re unsure why. “No idea,” he says quietly and turns back to the tv. 
He’s sitting far away from you on the couch, and the urge to move closer to him is growing stronger by the minute. You try to control yourself and focus on the movie, but it’s getting harder as you replay the moments from yesterday in your mind. You try to get comfortable where you’re seated, but for some reason no matter how you sit, you can't manage to stay still for more than 10 seconds. 
Felix looks over at you occasionally, wondering if you’re uncomfortable being alone with him. There’s no way, right? You’ve spent plenty of time alone with him in the past month and a half, if he had made you uncomfortable, you would’ve said something, right? And why did Chan and Mina just run out like that? He doesn’t remember ever hearing their mom mention anything about going to their aunt’s house this morning. Was he just not paying attention? 
You’re still moving about on the couch, and curiosity peaks in Felix.
“Are you okay?” Felix asks, looking over when you move for the fifth time in half a minute. “Y-yeah! Yeah I’m ok. Just a little cold,” you say, trying to play off the situation. He shifts a little in his seat, wondering if he’s really about to do what he’s thinking about doing. And before he knows it, he opens his mouth and is doing exactly what he was afraid to.
“I mean,” he begins hesitantly, “you can always..come sit over here with me, if you want. No pressure! But you know..if you want to,” He blushes, but extends his arm against the back of the couch, an open invitation for you to cuddle into his side. Thinking about it for a moment, you figure there’s no real harm in doing so, wanting to satisfy your need to be close to him in hopes that it'll stop the feeling in your chest.
You were wrong, it doesn’t help the feeling in your chest at all. If anything, it magnifies it ten fold. You scoot over to Felix’s side of the couch, tucking yourself into his side and getting comfortable. You relax in his hold, and Felix feels a sense of relief wash over him.
You try to get back into the movie, but just as you get comfortable again, a very intense romantic scene begins in the movie. The two characters are about to meet their inevitable downfall, sharing a dramatic declaration of their love. The desperation in their voices are evident, knowing that if this so happens to be the last moment they ever have on earth, then they’ll be okay with it knowing that neither of their feelings were unrequited. .It doesn’t help that Felix keeps looking over at you every thirty seconds. 
You feel Felix tense, and he turns to look down at you, your head now rested on his shoulder as you got comfy in his embrace. He wants to hold you like this forever. He panics a little, realizing how close your faces where when you turned to look up at him. He looks into your eyes and immediately melts, it reminds him of the other night, when he was just so close to finally kissing you. All he would have to do now, in this moment, is grab your jaw and pull you forward and then he’d be kissing you.
So that’s what he did.
It was a quick kiss, and Felix pulls away just as quickly as he pulls you in. “I uh..I am so sorry. I don't know what came over me if you never want me to do that again I won’t and we can forget that it ever happened I am so sorry,” he rambles, and you laugh at him. “Felix,” you say, turning to face him properly, “You have no idea..how long I have wanted you to do that.” You confess, cheeks turning red. He giggles. Giggles. That’s all the incentive you need to pull him back to you and capture his lips in another kiss.
You move to straddle his lap, your hands tangling in his hair and his immediately landing on your hips. You want to stay with him like this forever, you’ve decided. Running your hands through the soft tresses makes you realize that no one has ever made you feel the way that Felix does. He is home to you, and you know immediately that you don’t want anyone else. He moves to touch the skin that’s exposed right at the bottom of your tshirt, and a content sigh passes your lips. Felix uses the moment to slip his tongue in your mouth and you just let him take over, too lost in the feeling of him to fight for any type of dominance.
You roll your hips against him and a deep groan comes from his chest. You kiss him a little harder, and his labored breathing matches your own. You were now immensely glad that Mia and Chan were nowhere to be found.
His lips move to your neck, and the noise that comes from you does not go unnoticed by him. He’s guiding your hips against his now, bucking up into you and you’re getting lost in the feeling of him. Looking at you, Felix just wants to thank every god that has ever existed for letting him be with you in this way. In this moment, you are the only thing that exists to him. Even if he has to leave in a few weeks to head back to Korea and his idol life, his heart belongs here with you. And you'll wait for him each time, you know you will. This felt like destiny, and you’ll be damned if a body of water comes between you and him ever again.
________
Mia and Chan take their sweet time coming back to the house, deciding to go get dinner and hoping that their idiot lovestruck best friends have finally gotten themselves figured out. They walk through the door and smile as their met with the sweetest scene ever. You and Felix are asleep on the couch, completely wrapped in each other.
Needless to say, the state of Felix’s hair and the dark markings on your neck are enough for the two of them to silently fist bump as they walk to their respective bedrooms.
________________________________________________________________
A/N: Oh my goodness. If you’ve made it to the end of this, thank you for reading! I really hope this lived up to your expectations Anon >.<
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galactic-magick · 4 years ago
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Mom: Maxwell Lord x Reader
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Summary: Alistair accidentally calls you “mom,” forcing you to reveal your feelings for Maxwell.
Words: 1100+
Warnings: fem reader, a swear I think
Author’s Notes: Inspired by @hailmary-yramliah​ ‘s post, it was such a cute idea I had to write it and I would literally give my life for Alistair so here ya go! Also I wrote a Maxwell fic yesterday too which y’all can find in my masterlist!
Taglist: Lmk if you wanna be tagged in any future Max fics! @mandoalorian​
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“Do you have everything you need?” you ask Alistair.
“Yup!” he grins, dropping his duffle bag on the floor.
“You have your pajamas and extra clothes?”
“Mmhmm!”
“Toothbrush?”
“Uhhh…” he races to the bathroom and stuffs one in the side pocket. “Now I do!”
You laugh, ruffling his hair, “Great! Your dad’s on his way home and he can drop you off,”
“Can you come with us?”
“Sure,”
Alistair giggles and runs over to the couch to watch some TV while you tidy the kitchen a bit. There’s never really very much to clean in the house since Alistair doesn’t really make messes besides maybe some toys lying around; if anything Maxwell is the one that leaves shit all over the place. But you still like to have the house look nice when your shift is over.
You’ve been Alistair’s nanny for about a year now, and quite honestly it’s the best job you’ve ever had. Alistair is an angel of a child and his father pays good money for you to watch him until he gets home, but it’s even more than that. You’re treated like family. Many times Maxwell will invite you to stay for dinner with them or the three of you will go out somewhere for the evening. He’ll take you to all the latest movies, let Alistair run wild at the arcade, or just walk around the city.
Truthfully, you’ve fallen for Maxwell a bit through it all. He may be a little full of himself at times, sure, but he has a beautiful heart, and you love Alistair as if he was your own son too. Of course you never mention it or act on it since he’s technically your employer, but you’d be lying if you said you’ve never thought about him romantically.
Tonight, though, you’re planning on just going home. Alistair has a sleepover at a friend’s house so there’s not really a reason to stick around, and you’ve never spent time with Maxwell without Alistair before.
Soon enough, the door opens and in walks Maxwell.
“Daddy!” Alistair squeals, running over to him and giving him a hug.
“Alistair!” Maxwell enthusiastically hugs him back.
“Can Y/N come with us to Jake’s house?”
“Absolutely,” he shrugs at you and laughs. “Unless you have somewhere else to be? His house isn’t far,”
“Nope,” you shake your head and return a grin. “It’s no problem,”
You slide in the passenger seat and Maxwell drives to the house, just outside the city. Alistair practically rips off the door in excitement and jumps out.
“Alistair!” you call after him through the window, and he turns around. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Oh no!” he runs back and grabs his bag before sprinting to the house again. “Bye Mom! Bye dad!”
Did you…did you hear that right?
You keep your eye on him until he gets to the door and walks in to make sure he’s alright, waving at the parent.
Maxwell pulls out of the driveway and starts driving back to the city.
“Did he just call you Mom?” he asks.
“I…I don’t know. It certainly sounded like it,” you laugh, trying to cover up your shock. This was…awkward, to say the least.
What are you supposed to say? You can’t deny how happy it makes you to hear that Alistair sees you as someone that close to him, like a parent can be. And him associating you as Maxwell’s significant other makes your cheeks warm. But maybe he didn’t mean it that way…
“You know, you really are like a mother to him,” Maxwell cuts off your thoughts.
“Really?”
“Yeah. He cares about you, and he listens to you, and he talks about you even when you’re not around. He’s always asking me if you can stay longer, even though you spend so much time with us already,”
You smile, and your eyes water a bit, “That’s sweet,”
“You’re definitely more fit to be his mom than his real mother is, I’ll say,”
You’re not sure whether to laugh or feel sorry. Maxwell doesn’t really talk about his relationship with his ex-wife, but from the few comments he does give you can tell she’s not very nice. Supposedly she spends more time with her new boyfriend nowadays instead of paying attention to Alistair, and that alone gets you fuming. Of course you don’t mind the extra days you get to spend with him because of that, but it still kills you on the inside.
“Anyway,” Maxwell sighs. “Want to get some dinner? Your favorite, my treat,”
“Sure,” you nod, attempting to ignore the anxiety boiling.
You’re going out with Maxwell Lord? Just the two of you? Right after Alistair just referred to you as his mom?
Damn.
Surprisingly though, the nerves don’t last very long. Once you’re at your table and start chatting, everything feels natural. The meal and the hours seem to fly by. A few people recognize him and say hello throughout the evening, but most of the time he’s all yours, as if you do this all the time and you’ve been together for years.
“Maxwell, I…” you take a deep breath. It’s now or never. If you don’t tell him during this strange wave of confidence, you probably won’t get the chance again.
“I like you. Shit, I might even love you,” you look down at your plate, not ready to meet his gaze just yet. “You and Alistair are like my family. You guys mean more to me than anyone else, which is crazy, because I never would’ve thought that would happen when you first hired me, but it’s true,”
“Y/N-“
“Wait,” you stop him. “I know what you’re going to say, and it’s okay. If you don’t feel the same I’ll pretend I never said anything and move on,”
“Y/N.” he reaches across the table and grabs your hand. “I love you too,”
“You…” you look down at your hand and back to his eyes. “You do?”
“Yes,” he smiles. “Now, I suppose we’re doing things a little out of order, since you’re now considered Alistair’s mother before there’s been marriage or anything like that,” his head cocks to the side, “But maybe we could consider this our first date and go from there?”
“Sure,” you giggle. “Sounds perfect,”
His face lights up even more, “And don’t worry, I’ll still pay you for your services,”
You shrug, “You could always pay me with fancy dates and kisses,”
“Fantastic idea,” he claps his hands together. “Would you…happen to want to cash some of those kisses in tonight?”
“I would,” you laugh.
He chuckles, bringing your hand to his lips, “I look forward to it, my dear,”
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masquerade-reimagined · 4 years ago
Text
Linger
pairing | m!raleigh x mc (but she’s not in it)
word count | 637
warnings | a little bit of cursing, a little bit of drinking (or references to drinking)
author’s note | I scrapped my first idea for @platinumweekend about... 2 hours ago. This is what I threw together to make up for it. Sorry if it seems like it was last minute -- it literally was. 😅 I also accidentally deleted it when Tumblr refreshed because I changed the size of my browser window. Twice. Raleigh deserves better. I’ll do better next time. Thanks to @blushingpaperwerewolf for the inadvertent inspiration. 😉😁 Characters owned by Pixelberry, blah blah blah. You know the deal.
I thought about putting in a cut, but it’s not even a full page in Word, so fuck it.
He could still smell her on his clothes.
It had been hours since he’d seen her, and still she lingered on him, permeating the very fabric of his being. Muddling his thoughts. Distracting him. Drawing his mind elsewhere as he stood on his balcony overlooking the ever-bustling city below, bottle of tequila in hand.
The sun had long since set and he didn’t bother to try to look up at the stars -- he knew the lights of New York City would prevent any from being seen. But the city couldn’t stop the wind, and it swept around him, picking up her perfume and filling him with an intoxication that sure as shit wasn’t coming from his drink.
He could still feel the warmth of her body against his. The sensation of her hand in his, their fingers intertwined. Points of heat where she’d touched him. The line she’d drawn down his neck when she’d kissed him. Dragged her lips over his skin and set his heart racing.
She hadn’t known he wasn’t reacting to the paparazzi when he’d agreed with her on how much their ruse was working -- any of the times he’d said it. Not the first time when she took his hand at the table and he’d laced his fingers with hers. Not when they kissed on the grass in Central Park. Or later, when they’d slowly walked back to the limo, simply enjoying each other’s company.
Each time she’d commented on how well their act was playing out, he’d responded in kind, but he’d always been talking about her. How well her act was winning him over.
Not that he was in love with her or anything, of course. He was a seasoned professional, had been in several of these relationships-for-show. Got to be pretty good friends with some of them, but never had an attachment before. Just like he didn’t have an attachment now.
But he’d already nearly finished this bottle and he could still taste her on his lips. Fuck she’d tasted good. Like she had the first time, when they kissed backstage at One in a Million. When he was merely teasing her, flirting with her because she was hot and that’s what he did.
What he didn’t do was stand outside of his apartment and try to drink away the thoughts of his newest fake girlfriend. Someone he was going to be spending an awful lot of time with over the next howevermany weeks. Someone he was supposed to be pretend falling in love with.
With a frustrated groan, he ran a hand over his face and through his hair. What bullshit. She was even ruining his tequila time with her... continual presence despite not actually being there. He took a long pull from the bottle, letting the acerbic liquid sear a path down his throat, finding comfort in the way it burned.
He’d get over this -- whatever this was. They were only “together” because of her goody two shoes image and the mutual benefit this “relationship” served to their individual careers. She wouldn’t be able to keep up with him and this charade would be over before he knew it. He’d just liked that she didn’t know who he was when they first met. The thrill of anonymity would wear off soon enough, and with it, any other lingering interest he might’ve had.
Tipping the bottle back one more time, he drained the last of its contents as he walked back inside, dropping the now-empty vessel on the kitchen counter. He peeled off his clothes and left them in a discarded trail to the bathroom, where he showered and brushed his teeth before throwing himself into bed.
But when he took a deep breath as he drifted off to sleep, all he could smell was her.
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