#will always hands down be the best luc fic i will ever read | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

opalesense · 4 years ago

Note

um um hiii! im like literally in l o v e with ur writing, especially the diluc and kaeya stories (im such a simp omg) and was wondering if you could do some more diluc x reader x kaeya nsfw—

ofc you can ignore this but ty if you consider it!! stay hydrated and safe ily <3

over the counter

diluc x f!reader x kaeya (NSFW)

6.5k words • ~40 min. read

summary: after a tense night at the tavern, kaeya accidentally forgets his belongings and comes back to see you and diluc having an intimate moment – or maybe it wasn’t an accident...

warnings: slight degradation, a lot of jealousy!! drama!!

notes: reader is in a relationship with diluc beforehand just to switch things up a little from my last fic! also this fic favors diluc a lot more so diluc simps come get your juice ;D thanks for waiting anon ily too <3 i’m so sorry this took so long T_T

SPENDING WEEKEND NIGHTS AT THE TAVERN was not uncommon for you. In fact, whether you were in the mood to drink or not, one of the main reasons you frequently visited the bar was to keep Diluc company, who greatly appreciated the effort you put into making sure he didn’t feel alone while he worked. Evenings with the two of you were often spent idly chatting while he served drinks, which surely kept his spirits up throughout the longer and busier nights. Customers usually commented about how Diluc always seemed to have a grin on his face when you were around, unlike some other nights where his deadpan expression often intimidated the people of Mondstadt and subsequently intimidated the customers themselves.

That didn’t stop business from booming, of course. As long as the alcohol was good and quickly served, customers couldn’t care less about how intimidating Diluc could be. Neither would they care about how he would sneak some free drinks to your seat across the bar if you asked for it, or how he would shyly rest his hand on top of yours if the night was slow and no one was paying attention.

In the end, on weekend nights when you were sitting in your favorite seat at the bar that was conveniently never taken no matter how busy the night was (or maybe not so convenient, since Diluc always made sure to secretly reserve it when the weekend rolled around), people knew never to bother the two of you. After all, on nights when Diluc was happy, he gave spectacular service to bargoers, who decidedly took advantage of this hospitality and thus visited Angels Share more often knowing the atmosphere was better if you were there.

But of course, as soon as a certain blue haired customer walked into the establishment to take his long awaited night off of the week, Diluc couldn’t help but shake his head at you and sarcastically remark, “Well, here comes trouble...”

“What, are you not happy to see me, brother?” After placing his belongings down, Kaeya took his seat next to you and shot you a friendly grin to briefly acknowledge your presence. “I’ve been coming here after work almost every night for so long – have you finally gotten tired of me already?”

Diluc rolled his eyes and began making a Death After Noon for his brother, already knowing the specific bittersweet flavor he likes without Kaeya needing to ask. “Come to think of it, it’s about time I take off that family discount of yours, I’ve been too nice to you these past months.”

Kaeya crossed his arms as he leaned forward on the counter with a scoff. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I need financial compensation for the headache that you induce whenever you’re in the same vicinity as me,” Diluc joked as he finished making the drink then set it in front of Kaeya, who took the glass with a pout and turned to face you.

“You hear this guy? Financial compensation... as if he needs it, being the richest jerk in all of Mondstadt to date.”

“Watch your tone, idiot,” Diluc snapped back as he turned to serve another awaiting customer.

There was no doubt that the two seemed to get along quite well as of late. At first it was almost as if they were both trying to impress you by showing you that they could be nice to each other as per your request, but as time passed, competition turned into a slow realization of having genuine concern for each other, and the brothers have been on the road to reconciliation ever since. Even when Diluc ended up being the one to completely sweep you off your feet and steal your heart, Kaeya never showed any opposition and even encouraged your relationship. “Despite everything, you truly deserve her, ‘Luc,” you overheard him reassure Diluc months ago after admitting defeat in their competition.

There was no doubt that you loved Diluc more than anything. He provided you with everything you could ever ask for, from emotional support and material things to overwhelming satisfaction in the bedroom. But at the back of your mind, especially on slightly tipsy nights such as this one, lies a certain lingering thought about that certain blue haired brother. Was it so bad to fantasize about being pressed between the two? Was it so bad to imagine the feeling of being fondled and manhandled by both of them at the same time? Was it so bad to be at least curious about being shared between the two?

You took a sip of your free drink as you stared blankly at the dents on the wooden counter.

Maybe it is bad, you thought.

After all, if Diluc mentioned that he wanted a threesome with someone else, you wouldn’t exactly be ecstatic about it.

That’s why you would never mention these fantasies to either of them, despite trusting them both with all of your secrets after being close with them for so long. You were scared of how Diluc would react to your curiosity. You were scared he would get the wrong impression and that your relationship would come tumbling down as a consequence of your little fantasy.

Maybe it is bad.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Kaeya snapping his fingers in front of your face. His head was tilted to the side as if he were trying to meet your downturned gaze. “Hey. Did I lose you? What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“I was just lost in thought,” you ignored the subtle compliment and averted your eyes from the counter to look at Kaeya’s face, the shadows of the dimly lit tavern casting on him at the perfect angle to show off his features. You had to admit he was handsome - hell, all of Mondstadt surely thought so too. You glanced around nervously looking for Diluc to see a glimpse of his fiery hair heading up the stairs to the second floor, presumably to serve a table. He was understaffed today, you remember him saying.

“What were we talking about again?” you asked Kaeya, a little dazed and confused, overwhelmed by the reality of the moment. The clinking of glasses throughout the tavern, the bard playing the lyre in the corner, and the large group of rowdy men at a nearby table flooded your senses, leaving you a bit dizzy with no help at all from the alcohol. He simply laughed, gazing down as he swirled his own drink in his glass then met your eyes once more.

“I was asking how you and Diluc have been,” his sharp stare contrasted with his soft grin as the currently sober man turned his stool to completely face you. There was intention in his eyes, but you couldn’t exactly pinpoint what those intentions were. “I know he doesn’t like to catch up with small talk so I don’t like to bother asking him about what’s new.”

With the heel of your boot you decided to turn your stool to face him as well. Your knees were less than an inch away from touching his, which made you internally flustered given the fantasy you were just thinking about. You tried your best to keep your eyes on his face, ignoring his exposed skin just under his neck. He tilted his head back and took a sip of his drink then continued. “Besides, I enjoy talking to you more than him anyway.”

You could see right through him in this moment. Or at least, you thought you could. Maybe you were overthinking it, but you swore you could see his sapphire eyes slowly trail from your eyes down your body all the way to your grazing knees then dart back up again.

Maybe it was bad. Maybe it was the lighting.

“We’ve been doing good,” you nodded, studying his face more. “He’s been a lot happier recently since the two of you have been getting along more. Don’t tell him I told you that, though,” you leaned in slightly with a wink.

Kaeya let out a low chuckle at that and looked down at his glass again, taking a moment to form his next words. With a nod, he let out a sigh of relief. “That’s great. You’ve been looking a lot happier too, I can tell.”

“Oh? How exactly can you tell? We haven’t seen each other in a while,” you crossed your legs, feeling defensive, which accidentally brushed his in the process. You quietly apologized and he slightly lifted his hand up to excuse you.

“Oh, it’s nothing too crazy. It’s just the glow in your face and the pep in your step when I see you on the streets while I’m out patrolling. Seems like Diluc’s got one happy girl,” he tilted his head back for another sip, and for a moment, you saw his genial smile drop as he set his glass back down on the counter. But as quickly as he let go of his façade , he quickly masked his intentions again with a chuckle.

He seemed a little jealous, you thought. But before you could fully form a thought around that idea, Diluc came back with a tray in hand, empty glasses and mugs balancing on top of his palm. He carefully placed each of them into the sink and got to work on washing then drying them.

“How have you been, Kaeya?” he said with his back turned towards you both, “You weren’t flirting with my [Y/N] while I was gone, were you?”

“How could I do such a thing?” Kaeya huffed, seemingly offended. “Put some more faith in me, brother.”

Diluc turned around with a glass in hand, drying it with a rag and initially focusing his attention on Kaeya. You watched as the two stared at each other across the bar for a few moments, the air suddenly getting thicker as they both emanated a strange seriousness, almost as if they were arguing telepathically. Diluc’s intense stare burned into Kaeya’s cold expression, his arms tensing up so much that you thought he was going to break the glass in his hands. It was a little scary to witness how quickly the mood could change in only a few minutes, and feeling a little uncomfortable, you decided to stand up and make your way to the second floor balcony for some fresh air, away from the loud atmosphere of the main room and even further away from whatever random feud the brothers sparked up tonight.

The crisp air was meditative. It was soothing to stand on the balcony, leaning over the rail and staring into the night sky, letting your mind wander. Your days were often bustling with work and interacting with people so it was very rare to have a moment like this to yourself. At first, you figured it would be best to go back downstairs – after all, it had been a week since you’ve talked to Kaeya and it would be nice to catch up with your friend. But you weren’t sure why the mood was suddenly so tense, especially since nothing had really happened and as much as you knew how Diluc was protective over you, you felt like he was overreacting.

As you took slow sips of your drink, savoring the taste and gazing upon the night life of Mondstadt below, seconds turned into minutes, then minutes turned into an hours, and soon the moon had settled into the midnight sky and the tavern was nearing its closing time. You hadn’t realized that so much time had passed until Kaeya, who was usually the last customer to leave the tavern, whistled towards you from below as he was walking home, waving to get your attention then finally turning away and bidding farewell.

“Darling,” you heard a familiar voice behind you as you were waving back to Kaeya, “Did I do something to upset you?”

You turned to see a clearly apologetic Diluc standing in the balcony doorway, his arms crossed and hair messily thrown up into a ponytail. “Why didn’t you come back inside? We were waiting for you,” he quietly asked as he slowly approached you.

He placed his hands on your waist and pressed his forehead against yours while rubbing small circles into your sides with his thumbs. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips which he gladly returned with several more gentle kisses across your face, humming slowly and patiently waiting for your response.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Diluc. I really just needed some fresh air. I’ve felt a little overwhelmed all night and didn’t notice how much time passed,” you muttered.

You were telling half the truth.

You didn’t want to admit that you thought Diluc was being a little overdramatic, and you certainly didn’t want to tell him that you were overwhelmed with the thought of being touched by him and his brother at the same time. Some things are better left unsaid.

Maybe that was bad. Maybe white lies were okay, only for now.

He pressed one last kiss to your forehead before nodding as he processed your words. “Let’s get you warmed up back inside, you must have been freezing out here.”

“I didn’t think this is what you meant by getting warmed up,” you softly giggled in between passionate kisses as his bare, warm hands traveled up your top to eventually pull the entire damned thing off. He tossed it off to the side mindlessly before unbuttoning his own uniform top and letting it drape next to yours over the bar stool it landed on.

“I’ve had a long night,” he trailed the kisses down to your neck, gently biting enough to only leave subtle marks and murmuring against your skin. He lifted you up onto the counter to get better leverage over you, slowly spreading your legs apart then continuing the kisses down your collarbone. “And you look so beautiful tonight, I can’t help myself.”

“Just make it quick, okay?” you nervously looked at the window behind him which allowed the moonlight to illuminate the already darkened bar but also allowed anyone who felt like peering in to clearly see the two of you getting touchy in the tavern. You let him press up against you regardless, feeling his bulge grind against your clothed hips desperately. “What if someone sees?” you whispered, teasing him with the idea of getting interrupted and caught, which you knew annoyed him to the core.

“Good,” he paused for a moment to look up at you, his hungry eyes burning into your memory. “Let them see that you’re clearly mine.”

Your heart throbbed at this sudden possessiveness and with a naughty smirk, you decided to give up the innocent act. With a few swift movements, the rest of your clothes were ripped off until you were half naked, the only remaining bit of modesty you had being the underwear that clinged to your skin until Diluc eventually pulled that off too, exposing you fully to him.

“So beautiful,” he sighed as he kneeled down in front of you, pulling your hips towards him then pinning your knees to the counter as he lowered his head to your aroused cunt. “And all mine.”

You couldn’t help but let out quiet, staggered breaths as he immediately wrapped his lips around your clit, gently sucking and nibbling on the sensitive nub as his eyes remained glued to yours. “All y-yours,” you reaffirmed, which made him hum in appreciation.

He had never considered fucking you in the tavern before, especially since he rarely had the establishment all to himself for a shift, but just this once, he was happy he was understaffed tonight. All the frustrations he had endured this evening, from the annoying table on the main floor to bickering with Kaeya about things that didn’t seem to matter anymore led to this very moment where he hungrily licked your wet folds, burying himself into the sound of your hesitant moans and feeling himself harden by the second.

“P-Please fuck me already,” you breathlessly begged, “Please, Diluc, hurry…”

“Cum for me first,” his low voice muttered into your aching cunt, making your legs quiver, “Show me how much you really want it.”

The whine that escaped your throat was suddenly replaced with a gasp as Diluc pushed two fingers into you, immediately setting a quick pace and pressing into your sweet spot. “Cum for me, darling,” he let go of the grip on your leg to stand up and hover over your torso, leaning closer to your face and snaking his free hand up your back. “Be a good girl and cum on my fingers.”

“D-Diluc…!” you whimpered with a pout, which earned a hum of disapproval from him.

“Master Diluc,” he sternly reminded you, shifting his fingers into you quicker, causing your brain to malfunction as you began to tighten around him.

“M-Master…! I’m…!”

“Go on,” he ran his fingers through your scalp and grabbed a handful of hair, leaning down to kiss you and muffle your moans of pleasure as you finally reached your climax, gushing around his fingers and trembling at his touch. You whimpered in his mouth, muscles slightly spasming still as you started to calm down from your high and feel his fingers slowly pull out of you. While keeping his grip on your hair, he let go of the kiss and stuck out his tongue against his fingers, licking your fluids in front of you and smiling in satisfaction.

“Good girl,” he said as he revelled in his favorite taste. You watched as he lapped up all the fluids, the mixture of cum and saliva glimmering on his fingers under the light of the moon through the window.

Speaking of which, you weren’t sure if it was the way you were slightly tipsy or perhaps the heat of the moment deceiving you, but through Diluc’s messy locks and shiny fiingers, you swore you saw a glimpse of a familiar shade of blue through the window. It was unmoving, sure, but it was there nonetheless, and it wasn’t there the last time you looked through the glass.

Maybe it was bad.

Maybe it was Kaeya.

Horror sunk into your chest for a fleeting moment, but you blamed it on the alcohol, and the way you were thinking about Kaeya and Diluc so much within the past few hours. Besides, all the thoughts you were having about the strange color in the window were replaced by the way Diluc unbuttoned his pants with one hand, the other still intertwined in your hair, then freed his cock and let it rest on your stomach as he slowly laid you down across the counter. He pulled you towards him once more so your head could rest on the wood, his hair-tangled hand acting as a cushion while his elbow took its place beside you so he completely caged you in. “Be quiet for me, okay? We don’t want to wake all of Mondstadt this late at night…”

“I’ll be good,” you promised him, letting your hands travel down to feel his length resting on your skin. It had some weight to it as you lifted it, and as if you two were mentally in perfect sync, he pulled his hips back to let you position the tip at your entrance.

Excitement boiled in your stomach as he slowly inched his hips forward, pushing his cock into you little by little, stretching your walls apart by the seams. Your mouth went agape with the sheer stretch alone and fighting the urge to moan had never been more difficult. Instead, the only sounds that filled the silent room was Diluc’s heavy breath as he closed his eyes from the way you wrapped around him so well, the gentle gasps and whimpers from you as he bottomed out and nearly hit your cervix, then the sudden rhythmic slapping of skin as he began to pound into you with no warning.

Your eyes rolled back into your head at the rush of pleasure that came with the rolling of his hips into yours. It was so difficult to keep quiet, so hard not to at least whimper and give tiny moans here and there as he fucked you silly on that bar counter, but he couldn’t care less since he told you to be quiet and expected you to follow suit. You knew that. He instead opted to gently wrap his hand on your throat without applying pressure – simply as a warning.

You couldn’t control your orgasm even if you wanted to. The way he stared into your eyes so desperately while his cock kissed your cervix repeatedly made you lose control so easily, and he took advantage of the way you tightened around him by fucking into you harder. Faster. Deeper.

“You’re so fucking good, darling,” his hazy eyes glanced down to your lips with the intent to lean down for a kiss. “You’re–“

A loud knock on the door startled the two of you enough for Diluc to stop his thrusts and look up towards the source of the noise, a few red strands of hair draping over your face and tickling your cheek. He stared intensely at the door, pushing into you again at snail speed as he waited for an indicator of who was the culprit of the noise.

Another knock sent a jolt up your spine – or maybe it was the way Diluc snapped his hips into you once then slowly pulled back to drag out the pleasure. With a frustrated huff, he decided to tighten the pressure around your neck and pound into you at the relentless speed he set before, quietly shushing you when you initially gasped in surprise.

After one more knock, Diluc lost his patience. It was his greatest pet peeve of interruption becoming a reality. “We’re closed!” his voice boomed loudly so the person on the other side of the door would surely hear him, startling you at the sudden break of silence. Clearly frustrated, he pounded into you faster, chasing his pleasure, knowing that he would need to deal with whoever was bothering the two of you this late at night and wanting to quickly reach his release before then.

“It’s me,” both of your eyes widened at the familiar voice, “I forgot my stuff at my seat, could you let me in real quick?”

Diluc turned his gaze down past your head to see that, as a matter of fact, Kaeya’s belongings were still at his seat from earlier. His eyebrow twitched as he quickly pulled himself off of you, leaving you quietly gasping for air and clenching around nothing.

“Get under the counter,” he whispered so quietly that you just barely heard him, “Don’t move a muscle.”

Following his command, you made you way under the counter, nestling your naked body next to a cabinet of liquor as you watched Diluc button his pants and loosely put his shirt back on, buttoning it while he walked around the bar towards the door. At that point, all you could do was listen to a set of keys jingle as he unlocked the tavern door and a gust of cold air rushed through the entrance, strong enough that you shivered behind the counter and hugged your knees to retain warmth.

“Get your things then get out,” Diluc bluntly greeted Kaeya, who chuckled in response.

“Aw, why the sudden hostility again?” you heard slow footsteps approach the bar, sending your heart racing with anxiety, “And why the disheveled appearance? Oh, let me guess–“

“Get your things. Then get out,” Diluc said more sternly. You could recognize that tone from anywhere. He was furious.

“But let me guess first! Judging by the way the tavern is still a mess, I know you weren’t cleaning up the place just now. And by the way your clothes are so messily put together even though they were so neat and tidy earlier, as well as the sweat on your forehead… Oh, don’t tell me I interrupted something intimate, dear brother!”

You didn’t need to see him to know that Diluc’s jaw was tensed, unable to form a response out of pure annoyance and frustration. And still, Kaeya pressed his buttons.

“You were fucking her real good,” he teased after waiting for a response and getting nothing from Diluc, ”I could hear it from outside the door.”

“I fucking hate you,” was all Diluc could say in response. He didn’t actually mean it, you knew this, but he was beyond irritated.

Kaeya shuffled to grab his belongings by his seat and turned to face the door. But as if he weren’t being petty enough, he reached into his bag for something and suddenly tossed it behind him – his house keys, which landed behind the bar right next to your feet. Your eyes widened at this. You swore you stopped breathing even if you didn’t mean to.

“I think I might have left something behind the counter too, mind if I check?”

The silence that followed was unbearable, even if it only lasted a few seconds. All of the sudden, your heart began to pound out of your chest, not only because of sheer fear and anxiety, but also because of the possibility that Kaeya would see you so vulnerable behind that counter, naked and hugging your knees, waiting for someone to hold you and ‘warm you up.’ Maybe he already did see you through that window. Maybe it wasn’t just your mind playing tricks on you.

“Okay, I’m sorry, Diluc, maybe I’ve gone too far–“

“No,” Diluc interrupted him, “Go ahead. Go get your keys.”

What?

“Seriously?” Kaeya scoffed in disbelief.

What are you doing, Diluc?

“Go on.”

What’s happening?

“‘Luc, I know she’s there, I’m just messing with you–“

“No, Kaeya,” Diluc turned to close the tavern door and lock it, “I know you’ve been eyeing her since the very beginning, even before I came along. I’m not even mad, I just feel sorry for you. I feel sorry that I took away someone you wanted so badly and that you haven’t been able to move on since.”

Diluc took a few steps towards the speechless brother and lowered his voice, still maintaining the same intensity and dragging out his words. “So why don’t you go behind the counter and get your fucking keys? While you’re there, you might as well fuck my girlfriend with me too, since you want her attention so badly.”

The room froze in time, only for a moment. Thoughts began to flood your mind – why would Diluc say that, especially since he was usually very protective over you? Should you refuse to let Kaeya see you, or let it happen? After all, it’s not like you weren’t at least a little bit curious how this situation would unfold...

While you sat in the corner naked and trembling, you held back your breath and listened to Kaeya’s footsteps slowly drag across the wooden floor, the creaking getting closer and closer until he was in your peripheral vision. “Diluc,” he immediately turned away once he saw you sitting there, exposed and cold, then let out a disgruntled sigh.

“Come now, Kaeya,” Diluc stepped in front of him to enter the bar and suddenly grab your arm, lifting you up with no hesitation and making you gasp in embarassment. He pinned your arms behind your back and turned to make you face Kaeya, whose eyes were glued to the opposite wall out of a little bit of respect. “How about we make this a competition, since you seem to love competing so much?”

“Diluc,” you whimpered as you tried to struggle out of his grasp with no success, which you didn’t complain about because a part of you wanted to unravel this situation even further. “Please…”

“Please what, darling?” he muttered into your ear from behind, “Oh, don’t tell me you’ve been pining for him too.”

“N-No, of course not,” you whined, “I just…”

Maybe it was bad.

Maybe it was bad, but you were going to do it anyway.

You pressed yourself against his hips, gently grinding on his erection and letting out small whimpers. Just like Diluc, you hated being interrupted and couldn’t exactly think straight. All of this petty arguing didn’t matter to you, especially since you wanted them both from the beginning either way. In an attempt to admit your secret without explicitly saying it, you mustered up the courage to mutter, “Please, both of you, stop fighting and just… fuck me…”

Diluc tightened his grip around you with a grin, letting out a low scoff. “Slut. I knew you were a slut,” your eyes widened and stomach burned in excitement at the sudden degrading nickname he called you, “I bet you’ve been thinking about something like this for a while, haven’t you?”

You sheepishly nodded as he slowly pushed you back onto the counter, this time laying you on your stomach and bending you over. “I won’t deny that I’ve been thinking about the same thing lately,” he started to unbutton his top again as you raised an eyebrow at this new information. He huffed with annoyance as he unbuttoned his pants and turned his head to the dumbfounded brother across the bar. “Kaeya, either grab your keys and go or stay here and keep her mouth occupied. I’ll let you decide – just make it quick and quit standing there.”

With your head dangling off the counter, you watched as Kaeya slowly turned around to face the two of you, studying the scene for a moment before letting out a deep sigh. As if he finally made a decision, he put down his belongings again, took off his vest, and made his way across the counter, his hips only a foot away from your face. Meanwhile, Diluc had already freed his cock once more, keeping one hand on your restricted arms and using the other to prod your entrance with his tip. The excitement was overwhelming, coursing through your veins as you watched Kaeya slowly unbutton his pants as well with a bit of reluctance.

“Please hurry, Kaeya,” you softly begged, hoping to encourage him to quit holding back since it was obvious he was being overly shy, “Please, I want this so bad…”

“I’m sure you do, darling,” he adopted the pet name from Diluc, “But I like seeing you so needy for me when I’m moving slow like this.”

Letting out an impatient growl, Diluc grabbed onto your hips as he sheathed his cock with your cunt all at once, making you mewl and sigh at the feeling of being full again. He began rolling his hips deeply just as he did before he was so rudely interrupted, never failing to maintain his quick rhythm and making your brain short circuit.

With his slender fingers, Kaeya held your chin in his hand, lifting your face up to look at his and grinning once he saw how your mind was lost as you burned with pleasure. He stared at your flushed cheeks and panting mouth, comparing it to the usual calm and composed demeanor you always seemed to have. He smirked, rubbing a small circle into your chin with his thumb. “So this pretty, helpless face is what Diluc gets to see every single day? I’m very jealous, brother.”

That comment only made Diluc pound into you harder, his weight shifting into his arm to pin you down further. “Cry about it,” he mocked.

Ignoring the comment, Kaeya only pressed his lips together in a pout to tease you, slowly taking out his cock which made your mind boggle at the sheer size of it. He was just as deliciously large as Diluc was, and as he began to stroke it in front of your face, secretly admiring the sight of you being fucked senseless by his brother, you couldn’t help but feel like you were melting in the presence of such dominating forces hovering over you. Without second thought, you left your mouth agape, letting your tongue stick out in a wordless way of telling him you wanted to take him, to satiate your hungry desires that you hid for quite some time now.

“Eager, are we?” Kaeya didn’t seem to ever shut up his teasing, “I was just going to stand here and enjoy the show, but if you really want it that badly…”

One hand on your chin turned into one thumb in your mouth, which you received gratefully nonetheless. He let you suckle sweetly on his finger, cooing at how pathetic you looked drooling all over it when he hadn’t done anything yet. All the while Diluc let go of your folded arms and instead used both hands to firmly grip your ass and pound into you deeper, the sound of slapping skin filling up the room along with his shaky breaths now and then.

A whimper escaped your throat as you looked up at Kaeya’s face, He didn’t need to hear you say the words to know that you were quietly begging for a taste of him by looking at him so innocently, and as such, your wish was his command. He took a step forward to nestle the head of his cock into your mouth, his thumb still on your tongue to make you open up wider and let you salivate over the taste of his skin until he slowly began pushing himself deeper, watching your gag reflex just to find out you were taking him in quite nicely. His heart was aching with jealousy that Diluc was so lucky to have you all to himself, but nonetheless, once he fully bottomed out inside of your throat that he had to remove his finger to fit properly, he saw this as an opportunity to enjoy himself and sighed in pleasurable relief.

Kaeya’s hands found their place on both sides of your head as he slowly fucked your throat, wanting to relish in the feeling of you wrapped so tightly around him, holding back coughs and tears. It was a painfully delightful contrast to the way Diluc was relentlessly abusing your aching hole from the other side of the counter, letting out his pent up frustrations of the night in the form of deep thrusts and shameless pants. Kaeya couldn’t help but leave quiet moans here and there as well while he slowly pushed himself in and out of your mouth, filling your throat up with his entire length just to pull back with a sigh then do it again.

Eventually, Kaeya became more comfortable with picking up the pace, watching as Diluc’s slammed his hips into yours and yearning for a similar feeling. His hands traveled through your scalp, tangling through your hair messily as he leaned in to fuck into your mouth with more intent. You hummed sweetly as Kaeya finally stopped holding back, giving into the pleasure and matching Diluc’s rough pace. The feeling of the two of them ignoring their feud and instead taking out their frustrations on you made your insides twist and knot together knowing that after so long, your fantasies have come to light – or rather, they came to this dimly lit tavern in the middle of the night.

Diluc was the first to release himself in you, filling your drenched cunt with his seed and controlling his staggering breaths as he fucked you slowly to calm down from his high. It made you needy to hear his low groans in their fullest volume, but you knew that that had to be saved for different circumstances. His fingers that dug into your skin so intensely gently lifted off of you has he wiped the slight sweat off his forehead and simultaneously looked up to watch Kaeya fucking your throat. If he hadn’t been so exhausted from work tonight, he would’ve secretly loved to invite Kaeya for another round, knowing how tightly your cunt wrapped around him the second Kaeya started touching you.

Shortly after, Kaeya finally reached his own release too, letting your nose nestle in his trimmed blue hair as he dumped his cum into your throat unceremoniously. His chest slowly rose and fell with each deep breath he took, trying to control himself as he felt you attempt to swallow his seed while he was still inside you. The feeling drove him crazy and craving for more, but as he averted his gaze from you to look at Diluc on the other side, a wave of regret and jealousy washed over him knowing that this was probably going to leave him off on bad terms with his brother – again.

But much to his dismay, as he slowly pulled out of you, Diluc only laughed. He laughed wholeheartedly as he gently caressed your waist, soothing you while you gasped for air. Kaeya stood there confused on the sudden lightheartedness in the air, tucking himself back into his pants and getting ready to leave as soon as possible, slightly ashamed for indulging in such an impulsive moment of vulnerability for you and Diluc.

“Not so fast,” Diluc spoke the first words after the long period of silence once Kaeya started to pick up his belongings, “You’re forgetting your keys.”

With the help of Diluc, you slowly lifted yourself up to lay on your back, keeping your legs spread and incoherently mewling for more. Diluc only grinned at this, shushing you with a gentle look and caressing your thigh as he briefly saw his cum pooling on the counter. Kaeya nervously glanced at you before entering the bar and walking towards his keys next to Diluc’s foot, grabbing them, then standing back up with an averted gaze. The poor boy was so nervous, but you had to admit he tasted so good.

Diluc placed a reaffirming hand on Kaeya’s shoulder, making Kaeya lift his head and look into his eyes. The two shared a moment of eye contact, communicating a shared sense of apology to each other. Maybe it was bad at first, but regardless of how much they seemed to be at each others throats, they always seemed to make amends in the end.

“Okay, get out,” Diluc bluntly said, which followed with hurried footsteps towards the door and a quick, “Alright, alright, I’m leaving!” from Kaeya. The exchange made you laugh, but once Kaeya was finally gone and Diluc had locked the door behind him, you were beginning to get antsy.

“So,” Diluc trailed his eyes up and down your trembling body still splayed out on the counter, “would you, by chance, ever be interested in doing that again? Just the three of us?”

“I want to so badly,” you breathlessly admitted, replaying the past half hour in your head and letting the memory brand into your mind. “Please, Master?”

He thought about it for a moment then grinned.

“I’ll think about it. As long as you know you belong to me in the end, maybe another round with him wouldn’t be so bad.”

#diluc #diluc x reader #diluc smut #kaeya #kaeya x reader #kaeya smut #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #mine #bang #requested

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weebswrites · 4 years ago

Note

How about the demon brothers letting their s/o touch their horns(and other appendages) for the first time?

I love this prompt so much, thank u anon!! (I’d also definitely be down to go more in depth on any of these and write a whole fic for it, drop a comment or request if you’re interested in that heh)

Lucifer

• It takes a very long time for him to be open to the idea

• One day he gets an email with bad news and he’s so mad - boom. Demon form

• You walk in after your classes to check on him and he’s sitting at his desk, wings broadly behind his back and his head in his hands, frustrated grumbling coming from his mouth

• “Lucifer?” you say quietly, not wanting to scare him

• He looks up at you, eyes filled with a deep rage, but he settles a bit at your presence

• You walk over to stand next to him, putting your hand on top of his gently

• You then move to put your other hand on his shoulder, but he instinctively moves away, causing your hand to brush his wing

• A moan of relief leaves his mouth, and he looks up at where you’re standing

• “I- I’m sorry...I didn’t-”

• But he cuts you off, “No no, it’s okay my love” he said, voice still clearly angry but gentle towards you

• “Can you...rub my feathers? It’s...comforting” he asks, not used to showing weakness or his demon form to you

• You do so, slowly running your hands down his feathers, leaning in and pressing a kiss on the back of his head, directly between his horns

• Your hair brushes them, and you turn to admire them

• “Luc-” you start, but it’s like he can read your mind

• “You can touch them, just be gentle. Like you are with my wings” he whispered, voice already much calmer from your gentle touch

• You leave one hand stroking his wings, but move the other to his horn. You run your fingers up it lightly, fingertips brushing against the ridges before you return your hand to the base and repeat the motion

• He could have fallen asleep you were making him feel so relaxed, but he knew he had work to do

• He was humming softly in pleasure throughout this btw

• After a bit of this, he whispers “Thank you my love~ you can stop now if you’d like”

• After a few moments you do, turning him in his chair to face you so you can kiss him

• He smiles into it, and you stay with him until he’s done with his work

Mammon

• You’re drinking together in his room

• Originally you weren’t going to get drunk, since it was just the two of you, but one thing lead to another and here you were

• You were giggling together about something stupidly funny, tears brimming in your eyes

• A few hours pass, and it’s 3 in the morning. You’ve sobered up a bit and somehow found yourselves in a deep conversation, sitting across from each other on his couch

• You were telling him about your ex-boyfriend, and how he left you for someone else

• Mammon was enraged, “What a stupid human! Leaving you is the stupidest thing a stupid little human could ever do!”

• Suddenly he’s in demon form

• “Oh, shit Mammon I didn’t mean to make you mad...”

• He seemed a bit surprised himself, but there he was

• “Mah human...comere” he said, standing up and holding his arms out to you

• You obey (pun kinda intended), standing up and walking towards him, a bit hesitant to get too close since you’d never touched him in demon form before

• He pulls you into a hug, and after a few moments you feel his bat-like wings wrap around you

• They’re warm, and much softer than they look

• You relax into his embrace, and he sighs against your skin

• “I love yah, human”

• You exhale through your nose, not wanting to move a single centimeter from your position in his embrace

• “I love you too, Mammon”

Leviathan

• You’re in his room, watching anime from his bed

• It’s the last episode, and you’re both on the edge of your seats

• Then, it’s over

• Neither of you could have predicted the ending

• It was......horrible

• He was on his feet, screaming at the tv as something crossed your eyes

• It was...a tail? Holy shit...he was in demon form

• “Levi, babe, sit down” you said, trying to soothe him

• He listened, sitting down, but his hands were shaking he was so upset

• “Can I put my arm around you?” you whispered, not wanting to overstep

• He nodded, and you did so. You spoke calming words in his ear as you rubbed your hand up and down his arm, keeping an eye on his tail so you didn’t accidentally touch it

• You could tell your words were getting through to him when his tail rested on the bed behind you, wrapping around where you were sitting on the bed

• A silence fell between you, and you hugged him a little tighter

• “Can I...ask you something” he whispered

• “Always”

• “Can I...” he paused for a moment, debating whether or not he should continue, “put my tail in your lap?”

• “Of course” you whispered, your heart swelling with happiness that he trusted you this much

• You felt it lift off the bed and slowly rest in your lap

• You held your hands up a bit, not wanting to do anything too much

• “You can...touch it” he whispered, taking your hand off his shoulder and placing it on his taik

• It was warm under your palm, and you ran your hands down it, following the direction of the scales

• The two of you stayed like this for a few minutes, stroking his tail tenderly before he suddenly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against him as he spooned you

• His tail wrapped over your hips and rested in front of you, and you slowly took it in your hands, cuddling it a bit

• You fell asleep like that, and when you woke up the next day his tail was gone and he was back to his casual attire

Satan

• You’re in his room at RAD, chatting about the book he pre-ordered that’s supposed to be delivered today

• Suddenly his D.D.D. vibrates, and he looks down to check it

• He reads, then rereads, then rereads again

• “Satan...?” you ask

• “yoU’RE KIDDING ME!!” he explodes with a few more expletives, suddenly In demon form in front of you

• “Satan, what happened” you said, coming standing up but not moving closer

• “Th-the stupid bookstore isn’t shipping the books until tomorrow!!” he said, voice filled with rage

• “Shit...I’m so sorry Satan” you said, stepping forward a bit

• “No..stay away...I don’t want to hurt you...” he warned you, “I’m so mad right now I don’t know if I can control myself”

• You hear him, staying back, but watching him pace in anger breaks your heart

• “Satan~” you whisper, running over to him and wrapping your arms around him tightly

• He froze a bit, but quickly wrapped his hands around you back, giving you a tight hug

• Before you knew it you felt his tail wrap around you two, holding your bodies together

• “I...” he whispered, trying to think of an explanation for his actions

• “It’s okay...I understand” you reassure him, and he presses a kiss against your cheek

• "Can I feel your tail?” you whisper quietly

• “Yes” he responded, equally as quiet

• This was the first time you were even seeing his demon form up close, and you ran his tail between your fingers

• You slipped a hand to the back of his head, and ran your hand through the back of his hair. Your hand moved up more, resting a bit between his horns

• “You can rub my horns if you want” he added

• You do, moving your hand to one of his horns and lightly running your fingers along it

• He exhales against your neck, relaxing into your touch as his tail loosens around your bodies, your touch relieving him of the anger that previously ran through his veins like fire

Asmodeus (16+)

• He’s on top of you, grinding against you desperately and whispering degrading comments in your ear

• You let out a feral moan, fingernails digging into the back of his shoulder blades

• Suddenly his wings appear, and he looks down at you with horns

• You know you’re in for it

• “T-Touch my wings baby~ they’re extra sensitive the closer you get to the tip”

• You listen to him, carefully running your fingers against his silky wings

• He moans shakily against your neck, sucking a mark into you as your fingers trace light patterns against his wings

• “My horns too~” he whispered, smirking into you

• One of your hands flew to his horns, and your finger circled against the tip before swirling down to the base, and you let your fingers massage his horns

• He started thrusting into you, begging you to keep touching his wings and horns

• After you were done (it had been a few hours) he was still in demon form, and you laid together, your head on his chest as one hand played with his hair and horns, the other drawing patterns on his wings

• He whispered how much he loved you and how amazing you are at touching him as you fell asleep In his arms

Beelzebub

• You enter the kitchen to see your boyfriend turned away from you, on his D.D.D. with someone, so you quietly take a seat as to not disturb him

• Suddenly he’s screaming, “This is unacceptable!!! I want my partner’s favorite food damnit!! I will not settle for some demon world crap, I want the best of the best from the human world!!”

• His horns suddenly become visible, and you don't know whether to stay and comfort him or sneak out and give him his privacy

• But you don't have to decide, because he’s angrily tossing his D.D.D. onto the counter and freezing in place when he sees you, sitting there worridly

• “Honey...” he whispers, walking over to you

• “Beel...what’s going on” you ask, “Are you okay?”

• “I don’t want to tell you yet...it’s a surprise”

• You got up and stood in front of him, “Hug?”

• “Hug” he nodded, pulling you tight against him

• His wings were a bit lower than his brother’s, and you were careful not to touch them. You felt surprised enough you were hugging Beel in demon form, but you two had such a deep bond you knew you could trust him

• Almost as if he could tell you were being cautious of his wings, he said “You uh, you can touch my wings if you want..it’d actually feel nice...”

• “Oh...okay...but let me know if I should stop” you said, and then gently placed your hand on one of his wings

• You ran your fingertips across it, being very gentle as his wings felt a bit thin

• “They won’t break, they can’t” he assured you, and he pulled away a bit, turning around so you could fully see (admire) his wings

• You ran your hands over them, admiring the intricacy of their design

• After a moment he turned back around to face you, and leaned down to show you his horns

• “I’ve...never let anyone touch me like this...” he confessed, hiding his blush as he looked down to let you touch them

• You admired his horns for a moment before reaching out to them, gently running your hands over the rigid bumps across them

• After you had finished, you put your hands on his cheeks and lifted him up, pressing a kiss to his lips

• “Thank you, Beelzebub. I love you” you whisper, knowing he’d know how genuine you were by the use of his full name

• “I love you too, [Y/N]”

Belphegor

• The two of you are just about to nap in his room when Lucifer comes storming in, scolding him for something or other

• Belphie takes a minute to register what’s going on, but as soon as he does he’s out of bed in a blind rage

• “LUCIFER!!! SHUT!!! UP!!!” he yells, in demon form

• You wake him up, you suffer the consequences lol

• After a few moments Lucifer leaves, rolling his eyes as he closes the door behind him

• He turns around to look at you, and your eyes are visibly nervous at what might happen

• “Sorry...I didn’t mean to flip out. You know how I get” he explained, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly

• “You’re good” you reassured him, “come back and lay down”

• He did so, positioning himself a bit weirdly as to not touch you with his tail

• “Belphie...if you want...you can...well, you can lay closer to me. I don’t mind touching your tail” you say, knowing it’s more of a him thing than a you thing, but now knowing how to go about addressing it

• He stayed where he was for a moment, processing your words, before scooting closer

• He lays on his side next to you, and gently places his tail across your lap

• You don’t touch it at first, it just being on your lap was a huge step and you didn’t want to push it

• “This means a lot” you say, wanting to make sure he knew the trust he was putting in you

• He nods, and after a moment closes his eyes

• You do the same, placing your hand on your lap, just above where his tail lies, slowly moving It down to rub the soft hair at the end

• By the time you’re both asleep, your hand is wound inside the end of his tail, the smooth hair feeling good against your warm fingers

• Neither of you talk about it after, but you can feel the bond is strengthened between you

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thecoffeenebula · 4 years ago

Text

An officer’s duty

Thank youuuuuuu so much for 107 notes on my First Period fic. No joke I cried. You guys are the best!!!!

I made something else this time, I made my first Star Trek fic. I hope you like this one as well.

summary: Captain Picard checks up on the reader, who was very close to Data. They both need each others support to get through their grief.

Star Trek (Nemesis)

Jean-Luc Picard x Reader

Warnings: angst, it's just sadness really.

(not my gif, google gets the credit)

An officer’s duty

You were sitting alone in your quarters. Your head fell between your legs. You were holding a photograph of Data.

It’s a picture of that one time the two of you were on shore leave. Data didn’t need shore leave but he accompanied you and Geordi down to the planet. It felt like he actually was enjoying himself, even though he didn’t have emotions.

The fact that you would never take shore leave again hit you hard. You felt empty. Emptier than you have ever felt. You didn’t feel like this when Tasha died or when any of your other friends died. Data meant so much more to you than you could have ever imagined.

He always stood up for you. Took care of you when you didn’t take care of yourself.

You taught him what it meant to be human. You needed him. You couldn’t imagine what your life would be like without him. Now you didn’t have a choice but to accept that you will have to live on without him.

Your doorbell chimed.

“Come in” you said softly.

The door opened. Captain Picard’s silhouette appeared in front of you on the floor.

You straightened yourself up.

He noticed what you were doing and put up his hand.

“At ease, lieutenant commander”

Your room was dark. Captain Picard could barely see your face. Just as you he could only see your silhouette.

“It is very dark in here.”

You quickly tried to dry your tears before turning up the light. You had been crying for hours. It was also the main reason you dimmed the lights. You felt a lot less exposed in the darkness. Not that anyone was there, or would walk in. A luxury of being a senior officer. You just didn’t want any unexpected visitors like Picard walk in on you while you looked like a mess. Now you had to do it anyways.

“Computer, increase lights.”

The lights went up. Everything in the room became visible. Captain Picard noticed how red your eyes were. He noticed how wet your face was. You weren’t capable of wiping everything away.

You stared at the captain who was standing in the doorframe. He seemed to be fighting back his tears as he saw your face. Feeling as hurt as you and any other crewmember onboard the Enterprise.

“How are you? Are you okay?”

You showed him a small smile.

“No, sir, I am far from okay.”

The captain didn’t seem like himself. He was probably still working through the shock. The captain had been quiet ever since the event took place. You didn’t blame him. He was there when it happened. Data did the most selfless thing ever. He sacrificed his life for Picard’s.

The captain swallowed heavily before he spoke up again.

“Lieutenant, do you blame me?”

You look up at him in surprise. You could never blame the captain for what had happened, no matter how tempting it might seem to. This was Data’s decision. Picard couldn’t do anything about this.

He could have stopped him… If only there was more time.

You already heard the story at the gathering. You were in engineering when all this took place, working on B4. You were trying to download Data’s memories into B4. He requested you to make some sort of backup. You had no idea why he asked you this. You thought it might trigger B4 to respond and function like Data would. Apparently, Data had other plans. He knew that there was a change that he wouldn’t come back.

“I could never blame you.”

Picard relaxed. Letting out a sigh of relief. You noticed how hurt Picard was. The poor man had been blaming himself for the death of his dearest friend.

“It wasn’t your fault, captain.”

The captain scoffed.

“Wasn’t it? If I didn’t go out there…. If I didn’t give him command, he wouldn’t have come out to the ship to save me.”

“You don’t know that! You know what he is like.” You heard yourself say it. “was…. what he was like.”’

You couldn’t help but break down again. The thought of him was too painful. The constant reminder that people had been giving you. Sharing their stories with them. Sharing their condolences. You couldn’t stand it anymore. The constant reminder that you had been giving yourself. He was always on your mind. Even when he was alive.

Picard seated himself next to you wrapping his arm around you.

“He was more human than you and I could ever be.”

You tried to look at the captain. Your view was blurry because of the tears that filled your eyes.

“You meant the world to him, captain. You were his inspiration. Even if he wasn’t given command, he would’ve come after you. Anything to save you.”

Tears formed in the captain’s eyes.

“And he was mine. Data helped me become a better man.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder.

“What will we do without him?”

“We keep him close, in our hearts. That is where he will live on. That is where he will keep inspiring us to be the people we are. It will just take time for us to get over our grief.”

“I don’t think Will and Deanna can leave just yet. The crew of the Enterprise is in need of a counselor.”

Picard laughed.

“I think this ship needs more counselors.”

Picard noticed a box on the other side of the room. It seemed like a storage box. If he was correct, he could read the name Data on the label.

“Is that Data’s?” he pointed to the box in the corner.

You nodded your head and sat up straight.

“Geordi brought it to me after he cleared out his room. He thought I might like having these. He said there was a painting with my name on it. I haven’t dared to open it.”

The captain stood up. “May I?”

You gave him permission to open the box. They were just filled with some personal belongings, like his pencils and a couple of pictures of you and him together.

Picard took out the painting. It was a beautiful painting of your hometown. You told Data about how much you missed it, so he made a painting of it for you. he hadn’t shown it to you yet. Picard was the first to see it before you did.

“It is beautiful. You grew up in a beautiful place, (Y/N)”

You smiled at the captain. “Why take you, sir.”

“Do you want to see it?”

You hesitated for a moment but nodded yes.

Picard took the painting and walked over to you.

The captain didn’t lie. It was beautiful. The sun that was shining in the painting. The beautiful fountain in the middle of the park. As you looked closely you could see Data’s signature on the bottom right of the painting. The little curve he made in the ‘D’ made you smile.

The captain could do nothing but admire the painting with you.

“Have I ever told you of that one time when Data believed he was Vincent Van Gogh?”

You shook your head.

Picard enthusiastically started sharing his story with you.

That entire night you and Picard shared your own Data stories with each other. Remembering the man, they cared for the most.

#star trek #star trek nemesis #jean-luc picard #data #jean-luc picard fanfiction #data fanfiction #star trek fanfiction #hurt #pain #sadness #God who thought that movie would be a good idea

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puckwritesstuff · 4 years ago

Note

Thanks in advance

2 & 4

8 & 9

13 & 14

46 & 50

Sorry if that too many questions.

That is not too many questions, let’s do this! Answers under the cut.

2. Favourite character?

Of the fics I've written: Drake Mallard, which would seem fairly obvious. Gyro Gearloose, however, is gaining in leaps and strides. I'm having an amazing time writing for him in this most recent fic.

Of all time: oh geez... Belle, Dick Grayson, Slade Wilson, Hermione Granger, Robin Goodfellow, Henry V, everyone on Babylon 5, Jean-Luc Picard, Q, Elim Garak, Josh Lyman, Toby Zeigler, Harry Lime, Eliot Spencer, Mara Jade Skywalker, Grand Admiral Thrawn...

I like a lot of characters ^_^

4. Favourite pairing?

I'm not going to say that I'm captain of the Fendrake ship, but I'm probably pretty high ranked. XD Though, to be completely honest, my favorite couples to write for are OC pairings in my original works.

8. Favourite fic from another author?

I tend not to go back to fics once I've finished reading them, so the term "favorite" doesn't necessarily apply, unless we're talking about "professional fanfic" like Paradise Lost or the Star Wars Expanded Universe or something. That being said, I'm always excited to see a new chapter of "A Rewritten Family HIstory" (and don't tell @1lilspark, but I'm planning on binge commenting once I've finished "Take On Me" so I can give the fic my full attention) ;)

9. Favourite fanfiction author?

I'm not sure where the line between fic and Tumblr RP blurs, but @goodliest has been my writing partner and alpha reader for years now and she writes the best Glinda Upland in the game.

13. What's your most 'overrated' work?

I'm constantly surprised that "As You Come Home" has the hits-to-kudos ratio that it does. It's not that I think it's a bad fic, I love the piece, but other than the basic 5+1 format, it's a fic that almost requires three other (long) fics to really understand and the amount of people that liked that one and none of the others is fascinating to me. I just want to know what they're getting out of it, and what their perspective is reading it.

14. What's your most 'underrated' work?

My r/WritingPrompts series, definitely. Granted, I tried to back-date them all and I didn't want to shove them in peoples faces because they're mostly very simple and kinda dumb prompts that I took far more seriously than I needed to, but I have some good writing in there, and it would be cool to see what other people think of them.

46. Favourite sentence/pragraph you ever wrote?

Oh, damn I am so bad at picking favorites... I will pick one that I really love that I think is not entirely expected and then explain why I really like it.

From "Feelings I Can't Fight":

Drake sat on the edge of the bed. Fenton sat next to him, his head on Drake’s shoulder. Drake had a hand on Fenton’s knee. Fenton’s hands were on Drake’s arm, and Drake could feel them shaking, feel his pulse through his palms. Fenton leaned up and kissed him with a question he couldn’t bear to ask. Drake kissed back, the fear in the grip of his hands on Fenton cutting through the reassurance of his arms around his waist. They fell back onto the bed.

Drake looked up at Fenton, who straddled his hips and tried to ask the question, but the words wouldn’t come. Drake traced along the edge of the faded scar on his chest and Fenton leaned down with a pleading kiss, almost begging. Drake pulled him close, trying to make his desire clear. Fenton could feel the passion and desperation as Drake’s heart threatened to beat out of his chest as he ran his fingers through Drake’s feathers.

Drake came up for air, his chest heaving as he panted. Fenton kissed along his collar as Drake combed through Fenton’s hair with his fingers. Fenton kissed him one last time before lying down, curled up next to him. Fenton’s eyes burned with tears and he could barely look up at Drake to try and ask again.

“Yes,” Drake said quietly, kissing his forehead.

Drake saw the relief in his face and could feel the tension release in his body. Fenton rested his head on Drake’s chest as Drake gently played with his hair. He closed his eyes, comforted by the sound of a steady heartbeat.

Drake wasn’t sure if he was lying.

I love this excerpt because I don't consider myself to be a particularly descriptive writer. I can see the images clearly in my head, but getting them on the page without it sounding awkward is difficult for me. I kneecapped myself further by not having dialogue. Dialogue is the meat of my writing, it's where I do almost everything, particularly when it comes to character emotion. I am very proud of being able to pull of this pivotal scene with only one spoken word, and everything else in sensation.

50. Is there something you often repeat in your fics (a verb, a trope etc)?

My characters get kidnapped a lot. Not sure where that comes from.

Thank you so much for the ask! Links will appear when the tags behave.

#meta #asks #fanficion #take on me fic series #ducktales #anonymous #reply

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franboos · 4 years ago

Text

I don’t want to be your friend i want to kiss you neck

a vds college roommate fic

written by @livsisa and me <3

word count: 2302

chapter three, part 2

previous chapter

“Luc, did you hear me?”

Lucas looks up from the napkin that he’s tearing apart. “What?”

“I asked if you wanted the rest of my brownie,” Sander says with a slight frown on his face. “Is everything okay? You´re awfully quiet.”

He drops the napkin on the table and sighs, looking around the small cafe they’re sitting in. They do this every Thursday afternoon, when their classes end at the same time, they get coffee and a pastry in a small coffee bar a street away from the school.

“Sorry, I’m a bit distracted today,” he says as he reaches across the table for Sanders’ brownie.

“Does it have anything to do with Jens?”

“Jens?” Lucas replies with his mouth full of brownie, some crumbs falling out onto the table.

Sander nods his head, “He said you guys had some sort of argument last weekend.”

Lucas groans and lets his head fall onto the table. Of course Jens told Sander, probably his other friends as well, which means they all know how much of an idiot he was by throwing Jade out like that. As if he wasn’t embarrassed enough already.

ever since that morning, the atmosphere between the two had been extremely tense. They barely spoke, avoided being in the same room together, except for when they had dinner with the other roommates, but even then they ignored each others presence.

Lucas hates it, he hates not talking to Jens, which makes him feel stupid for getting attached so quickly. He hates how much impact Jens has on him, after knowing him for not even a month. He feels like a fool for caring so much about what Jens thinks of him, he doesn’t care about Friso’s opinion, or Annabell’s, not even Ely’s. But Jens is different. He wants Jens to like him, and the thought of Jens being angry with him is driving him crazy.

“Aw,” Sander pats his head lightly, “It’s okay, he felt really bad about it.”

Lucas’ head shot up, “He did?”

Sander chuckles. “Yeah, we talked for a bit and he sounded frustrated,” He takes his hand off of Lucas’ head after ruffling his curls. “I could tell he was sad about it.”

“Sad?”

“Yeah, because you guys are avoiding each other.”

Lucas feels the corners of his mouth turn up into a small smile. Of course he isn’t happy about the fact that Jens is not happy, but it gives him a little bit of hope that he isn’t the only one who’s upset about the situation.

“But then why didn’t he just come to talk to me?”

Sanders sighs. “Jens isn’t the best in expressing his feelings. He always bottles everything up. It’s like he wears a mask. He tries to act chill and like he doesn’t really care about everything that happens around him. It sometimes even looks like he just hopes that his problems will solve them self by ignoring them, but that really isn’t the right way, and I hope you know that too.”

Lucas furrows his eyebrows. “So, he does want to talk to me, but he also doesn’t?”

“Well, yeah. He feels really bad about the situation but he is just too stubborn to face it and go up to you. From what he told me, it looks like he only thinks about all the bad ways it could turn out instead of thinking that you guys could have a normal conversation and solve things,” Sander explains. “He just thinks you won’t forgive him. Would you?”

Lucas is quiet for a moment, progressing the information Sander just told him, then he speaks up again.

“Yeah, at least, i think. I just really want to talk to him at least.” He crosses his arms on the table and leans his head on them. “We both did some things that weren’t right you know, he isn’t the only one who should feel guilty,” he sighs. “How do I get him to talk to me?”

“I think you should go talk to him, although it really should be Jens going to you. I tried telling him that, but he is just too cocky.”

Lucas growns and buries his head back in his arms.

“Ugh, what should I even say? I can’t just go like ‘Sorry Jens, for throwing your girl out and acting like a dick while everything between us was fine, will you forgive me?’” He mumbles into the skin of his arm but the sarcastic tone can't be missed in his voice.

“Why not?” Sander says, as if it's really that simple.

“You really aren’t good at apologizing, are you?” Lucas says, lifting his head up.

Sander snorts. “Well, I painted Robbe a big ass mural when things weren’t good between us. And look where we are now!”

Lucas rolls his eyes. “I’m not going to paint Jens a mural.”

“Again, why not?”

“I should have had this conversation with somebody else, you suck.”

“Auch, you hurt my feelings there buddy,” he says with his hand on his heart and a pained expression on his face.

“Fuck off,” Lucas says, but the smile on his face is bright.

“Okay, but for real, I think you should go talk to him. He would be more than happy if you came up to him because he is so scared that you don’t want to talk at all.”

Lucas looks down at the torn up napkin still laying on the table. He really wants to talk to Jens, but he doesn’t want to fuck it up. Jens is cool, really cool. And he doesn’t feel like ending their friendship just yet, or ever.

“Alright,” Lucas says while looking back up, “I will talk to him, but I want to do it right now because now I have to courage and maybe later I will back out.”

“Okay, then go now Luc.”

“You sure?” Lucas asks hesitant.

“Yes of course, I was going to Robbe’s anyways after we were done.”

“Shocking.” He grins.

“Pff, shut up,” Sander says while shaking his head, “Now go and get your boy.”

“He is not my boy.”

“yet,” Sander says with a smirk.

“Now you shut up. We’re friends, so I’m going now, to talk to my friend,” he stands up, puts his jacket on and pushes his chair back under the table, “bye Sander, and thanks for your,” he holds up his hands makes two air quotes, “advice.”

“Stop insulting me! I gave good advice. And if you wait a second, I’ll pay and than we can leave together.”

Lucas said goodbye to Sander a few minutes ago. He is now cycling on his own, back to his apartment. And he is not going to lie: he’s nervous as hell. He hopes Jens isn’t home yet. He needs to prepare himself for this conversation. As of right now he has no idea what to say. He needs to figure that out, so he doesn't look like an idiot in front of Jens.

He picks up the speed, pushing down on the pedals of his bike that he’s owned since he was fourteen. An old one, that previously belonged to Kes’ brother. Lucas’ parents refused to buy him a new one after he wrecked his going down the ramps in the skate park with Kes.

The wind blows through his hair as he races through to streets of antwerp. He closes his eyes for only a second. There are a million thoughts running through his head, all revolving around Jens. He’s scared of ruining their newly build friendship, if it isn't ruined already. If what Sander told him was true, and Jens wasn't the type to confront his feelings and talk about them, then Lucas will. Because he only just got Jens and he isn't ready to lose him just yet.

He parks his bike against the tree on the other side of the street and crosses the road without looking. Once he’s inside the house he sprints up the stairs two steps at a time and rushes past the living room.

“Aren't you saying hi Luc?” a voice yells from inside.

Lucas sighs and turns around.

He stands still in the doorway to the living room, looking at Isa sitting on the couch with Ely crossed leg across from her on top of the coffee table, which is surprisingly not falling apart having to support the weight on top of it.

“What are you guys doing?” he asks.

Ely holds up his phone, “showing Isa some music I’m working on.” Lucas only just now notices they're both wearing an airpod.

“Cool,” he nods his head, he would love to hear it, but not now. “Is Jens home?”

“In his room I believe,” Isa answers and quickly glances at Ely. “Is everything okay again?”

Lucas looks down at his dirty converse. “No, not yet.”

“Go talk to him, please,” Ely says. “The tension between you two is not amusing anymore.” He sends Lucas cheeky grin, who rolls his eyes before walking away.

“Goodluck!” Isa shouts after him.

He slowly makes his way up the stairs, he’s not in a hurry anymore. Once he reaches Jens’ room his heart is beating louder than usual and he has to take a deep breath before lifting up his arm, he holds it in the air for a few seconds, debating on whether he should walk away, but then he knocks on the bedroom door.

“Yes?” Jens calls out from inside.

Lucas opens the door slightly, just enough so he can peak his head inside, he doesn't want to barge in. “It's me.”

Jens is sitting on his bed, laptop propped up on his lap. He’s wearing his red hoodie, with the hood up, a look that makes Lucas’ heart flutter slightly. He looks up from his screen and stares at Lucas, who tries to read his expression, but Jens’ face is blank.

Then Jens smiles at him, not his usual bright smile that makes his eyes crinkle but a smile nonetheless.

“Come in,” He says as he closes his laptop and puts it beside him on the bed.

Lucas closes the door behind him and walks towards the bed, he wants to sit down but decides against it. He looks around the room, it's the first time he's actually been inside. It's slightly messy, there are some clothes scattered across the floor, books piled on top of his desk. A small keyboard stands next to his bed and there are pictures taped to the wall, of what Lucas assumes are his friends and family.

He looks back at Jens, whose eyes are still focused on Lucas.

“I’m sorry,” He says.

Jens’ face softens and he takes his hood off, combing binghis hands through his hair and then letting it fall onto his forehead. “Sit,” he pats the space on the bed next to him.

“I shouldn't have been so rude to Jade,” Lucas says as he sits down next to Jens. “And I definitely shouldn't have told her to leave, that was wrong of me.”

Jens fidgets with the straps of his hoodie, not saying anything. The tension in the room is high and Lucas has a feeling Jens isn't going to forgive him just like that.

“Why did you react that way?” Jens asks, breaking the silence after a minute or two.

Lucas runs a hand over his face and sighs, he should have expected this question. He had given it a lot of thought, he was surprised by his own reaction. He had never told one of Annabells hook-ups to leave, he doesn't mind when Isa or Ely get home at three in the morning and wake up the whole house. It's just Jens. It's only Jens he doesn't want to bring hook-ups home, he doesn't want to see the pretty girls at the breakfast table the next morning.

“To be honest I don't really know why I reacted like that.”

That's a lie. He knows very well why he reacted like that.

Jealousy.

Jealous of the girl who’s waist Jens had his arms wrapped around, the girl who spend the night in Jens’ bed, who kissed him, touched him and who wore his t-shirt the morning after.

“I guess I was just tired and irritable, I was up until late and didn't sleep very well.”

Jens frowns at him.

“I know it's not an excuse, but I am truly sorry.”

He can’t tell Jens the truth, he can’t just say ‘I’m sorry but I like you and I don't want you to be in bed with someone else.’ Because Jens is his friend. Just his friend. And his roommate. Besides that, he’s also into girls, just girls. He can't let his heart be broken by Jens, that's why he has to lie.

“Thank you,” This time Jens’ smile is soft and genuine. “But I’m sorry too, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything, or yell at you.”

Lucas can feel the grin spread across his face and he nods his head slightly, looking down at the light blue comforter of Jens’ bed.

“That's okay.”

He can feel Jens’ eyes on him, he looks up and when their eyes meet they both burst out laughing, making the tension in the room slip away.

Jens pushes Lucas’ shoulder before letting his body fall back onto the bed. Lucas follows him, laying down next to Jens.

“You wanna watch a movie?” Jens asks.

“Sure.” Lucas answers and he watches Jens as he leans onto his elbows to grab his laptop. He takes a moment to let his eyes travel over Jens’ face, taking in his features, his sharp jawline, his cheekbones and the arch of his nose bridge.

Jens smiles at him and Lucas is really glad they're okay.

#we're back bitches #wtfock #skam nl #lucas van der heijden #jens stoffels #vds #van der stoffels #I don't want to be your friend I want to kiss your neck

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alarajrogers · 5 years ago

Text

Untitled Picard/Q-ish fic

This is very rough -- no beta, we die like women -- and I don’t even have a title for it yet, but I wanted to get it out there because it’s late. It was supposed to be for Tapestry Day, Feb. 15th.

It is very subtle Picard/Q, and could be interpreted as friendship rather than romantic feelings, because that is how I roll. It’s set in the current Star Trek: Picard series (up through episode 5), and explains why Q hasn’t been around to help Picard with things like supernovas killing billions of people (and for that matter other things that are spoilers so I won’t mention them but would affect his son.)

There was someone sitting in his study.

There was someone sitting in his study, and Laris and Zhaban were nowhere to be found. Quietly Picard edged toward where one of the various hidden phasers that Laris and Zhaban insisted on hiding in his study, dining room, bedroom and pretty much everywhere was stashed.

“You’re not very stealthy in your old age, mon amiral,” a voice said. A voice that was familiar, but that he hadn’t heard in… had it been decades? At least twelve years, to be sure.

“Q!” Picard stepped forward into the study, unable to control the joyful smile on his face. As soon as he was close, though, he took half a step back, literally taken aback by what he saw.

Q looked old.

Not as old as Picard himself, perhaps, but his face was lined and worn, his dark hair shot through with silver. He also had facial hair, a mustache and a brushing of beard on his chin and jawline.

“You look almost happy to see me,” Q said. “Well, you did. Now you just look shocked.”

“I never expected to see you age,” Picard said. “But I suppose you can take the form of an old man as easily as you took the form of a young one.”

Q smiled wryly. “I can, yes, but… there’s always been an element of truth in how I appear to you. I’m not doing this to make some sort of commentary on the fact that you’ve aged… a terrible mortal habit, there, but I don’t imagine I’ll break you of it any time soon.”

“No, I think not,” Picard agreed, nodding. “Are you saying you feel old?” He sat down in the chair that faced Q. “I remember when you told me of your new responsibilities in the Continuum, you said they’d age you prematurely, but I took it for a joke.”

“It was a joke. That’s not… why.” Q closed his eyes. “I know you called for me. You asked me for my help, didn’t you? And I didn’t come.”

“I… assumed that your responsibilities had become too onerous to spend time in the company of mortals anymore,” Picard said, carefully.

It had hurt. When Starfleet had refused to help the Romulans, when there were so many stranded and desperate and Picard had no resources to save them… he had called out to Q. Better to owe his omnipotent sometime-nemesis, sometime-companion something than to cling to his human pride and let billions die.

Q hadn’t come. Picard hadn’t seen him since… since several months before the supernova. Q had said nothing, then, to imply that he wasn’t going to come back.

Picard had spent a long time convincing himself not to feel betrayed by that.

“No, no,” Q said. “I’d have made time for you, if not…” He shook his head. “The one time you break down and spontaneously call for my help, and it had to be for this.”

“So there was a reason for it.”

“A very good reason.” Q snapped his fingers, and a glass of something alcoholic appeared in his hand. Another one appeared on the end table next to Picard. “Not the house brand, but I imagine occasionally you indulge in something you didn’t grow yourself?”

“Occasionally,” Picard said. Q would get to the point, eventually, and he had learned patience. He picked up the glass and breathed deeply of the aroma. “This is… actually from Betazed, if I don’t mistake it?”

Q nodded. “Adwana wine. Not particularly strong as alcohol goes, not to humans, but it interferes with telepathy.”

“Are we worried about telepaths?”

“Not… exactly.” Q took a sip. “When I’m in human form, the same brain centers that mediate telepathy in humanoids allow me to connect back to the Continuum. I’m not, currently, an extradimensional being driving a puppet around. This is me, mostly.”

The wine tasted rather like sake, but with a sweet undertone that was distinctly fruity and yet wholly un-grape-like. Almost like… blackberries, he thought. But not quite. “You’re shutting down your powers. Why?”

“I don’t want to have them right now,” Q said. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, the Calamarain’s not going to show up on your doorstep. I can’t possibly fully shut myself down with a drink or two. I just… I don’t want to be so aware of it.”

“I suppose you have your reasons.” Picard set the drink down. It really wasn’t to his taste.

“And you’re just waiting with bated breath for me to tell you what they are, aren’t you?”

“That is why you’re dropping hints, I think.”

“You know me so well.” He twirled the drink in his hand. “Tell me, Picard. You had hypotheses, I’m sure. What did you guess was the reason I didn’t come when you called?”

“I’ve said. I thought your responsibilities—”

“There were other things you thought, though.”

“So I see the adwana isn’t interfering with your telepathy that much.”

Q shook his head. “I’m not reading your mind, but I know you.” He leaned closer to Picard. “Jean-Luc, there has never been a day in your life when you haven’t been considering multiple possibilities for everything that happens.”

“Well, I thought perhaps you were forbidden to interfere. Or—”

“Or?”

“Or that… well, why would you care about humans? You have your own life in the Continuum. You have a son. Perhaps your… interest in me was… a passing thing. Something you have no need for, anymore.”

“Mon amiral. Sometimes you don’t know me at all.” Q sounded mock-hurt. “But then, I imagine the truth would be… impossible for you to guess at.” He leaned forward. “I didn’t abandon you willingly, Jean-Luc. Yes, I had more going on in the Continuum than I’ve had in billions of years, but… in the Continuum, I’m a leader now. People look up to me. I’m not sure I have friends there even now. Allies, comrades-in-arms, but… no Q sees me as myself.”

“Well, by definition I don’t see you as yourself, since you have to take a different form to interact with me.”

“Yes. Ironic, isn’t it? I can most be me with a creature who literally can’t even see me. Worthy of being included in a stand-up comedy routine.” He took another deep sip, and then set the glass down with emphasis. “I was dead, Picard.”

Picard raised both eyebrows, head going back. “Dead? How?”

“Did you ever wonder… how could a supernova of one star, however large, start triggering an instability in space that blows up other stars?”

“Neither Federation nor Romulan science was ever able to explain that,” Picard admitted. He remembered something, then. When the Q killed each other with the weapons they’d used in the civil war… it had caused supernovas. “Good God. Did the war break out again?”

“In a sense.” Q looked down at his hands, folded in his lap in uncharacteristic stillness. “There was a bomb.”

“I assume you mean some sort of metaphorical something that best translates to my perceptions as a bomb?”

“Oh, no. An actual bomb. Made of Continuum-substance, of course, you wouldn’t have perceived it except through analogy, but… something that explosively releases raw energy of a form that disrupts the pattern of anything made of Continuum energy and tears it to shreds? Sounds to me like a bomb.”

“By any other name,” Picard said quietly. “But – you were dead? What do you mean by that?”

“I mean I was dead. Someone set off a bomb in the Convocation and… a dozen Q died. Which is actually a very large number. I realize it sounds like a trivial number to you—”

“No. You’ve told me that the Q number in the thousands, if that, and even if there were trillions of you, a dozen deaths are never trivial.”

“Thank you for that.” Q took a deep breath. “I was one of the casualties. The others… didn’t have a son. No Q was willing to spend the time and energy needed to put a dead Q back together, no Q had a pattern to follow they could use for reference to do so anyway… except my son. He used himself as the pattern and he spent the past… I don’t actually know how many years putting me back together and I don’t even know if I’m the same me anymore—”

“Stop.” Picard put his hands on one of Q’s. “You’re alive. That’s what’s important.”

“I don’t know if I am,” Q whispered. “I mean, yes, I’m alive, but am I me? I spent billions of years trying to preserve my identity, so many other Q trying to influence me, and now…”

“Listen to me, Q. Life changes us all. Being what you are, I imagine you don’t have much experience with the concept of scars, but even you changed over time, just from the demands of life.”

“This is a rather large change, Picard.”

“Yes. It is. But what’s the alternative? You can’t go back to what you were before, can you?”

“I suppose not.” He stood up and went to the window, looking out. “You know I would have come if I could, Jean-Luc, right?”

“I know.”

“And there’s nothing – I can’t fix it. I can’t fix any of it.” He looked back at Picard. “Do you know – of course you don’t. I changed things. We were – having an argument. You and I. Not important what it was about. But the point is… I altered the past.”

“Wait. What did you do?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He walked back toward Picard. “It’s all gone. All the changes I made. Retroactively. Because we can’t do anything in the region of space affected by the bomb.”

Picard stood up. “Tell me what you did that doesn’t matter anymore.”

Q sighed. “We were arguing about whether I actually care about you mortals. You were very upset. You pointed out that Data died and I did nothing, and he saved my life one of the few times I was vulnerable. You said that I live on the scale of a god and I can’t relate to mortals enough to be friends with one. So, I fixed it.”

“You fixed what?”

“I arranged for Shinzon to be adopted by a human scientist and taken off Remus in his childhood. Never grew up with the hatred and resentment of humanity. Resented you, but he ended up going into Starfleet anyway. No attempt to destroy Earth. So Data didn’t die, you didn’t suffer clone angst, Charlie – that was what his name got changed to – had a happier life and didn’t run around telepathically raping half-human women. Everything was wonderful.” He leaned his forehead on the wall. “And then there was the bomb. And every change made by any Q, ever, in that region of space, was reverted to whatever it had been before it was changed. And I was dead.” He swallowed. “And now – I’m back, but I can’t bring him back. I mean, I could, he died in Earth orbit, but how am I supposed to bring him back in a world where you idiots would declare him illegal and there’d be assassins trying to kill him?”

“Q. It’s all right.” Picard walked around a chair, and reached up to his shoulder. “No one expects it of you. Data wouldn’t have expected it of you.”

“You did, once.”

“Apparently that was in an alternate universe. I don’t think you can hold that against me.”

“But you were right.” Q closed his eyes. “I wanted him to live.”

“So did I.”

Q sat down on a sofa that hadn’t been there a moment ago. Picard sat next to him. “Listen,” he said. “I’ve… wanted to tell you, for some time. I never realized, back in the days when you came to visit me frequently… that I’d miss you, as much as I did, if you didn’t come back.” He held Q’s hand clasped in both of his. “I… did consider the possibility that the Romulan supernova represented your civil war resuming, and that I hadn’t seen you because… you’d become a casualty. To be honest, when there were no further supernovae, of course I was relieved because unexpected supernovae are horrible, but it also occurred to me that, if there’d been a conflict among your people, you’d resolved it. And if it was resolved so quickly…” He swallowed. “I thought that meant you were alive.”

Q raised an eyebrow. “What part of me suggests to you that I’m good at resolving conflicts quickly, Picard?”

“The fact that you did. The first time.”

“Obviously not well enough, or no one would have planted a bomb.” He took a deep breath. “So. You missed me?”

“I did. Although I wasn’t going to tell you, if you came back and it turned out your reasons for not coming to see me in so long were trivial.” Picard smiled.

Q laughed. “I suppose you don’t consider death all that trivial?”

“Not at all.” He let go of Q’s hand. “I’m glad you’re alive now.”

“I… suppose I am as well.”

“You suppose?”

“So many died, Jean-Luc. So many. And I’m alive.”

“That’s survivor’s guilt. It’s normal.” He smiled wryly. “There are times when I’m still miserable with guilt that I’m alive and Data isn’t. Or Jack Crusher.”

“Was he as boring as his wife?”

Picard raised a finger and shook his head. “None of that. We’re past the stage where you insult my friends, now. I expect you to keep a somewhat civil tongue in your head.”

Q rolled his eyes. “Oh, how will I ever live up to this overbearing expectations?” He looked at Picard. “It’s like you think I’m a good person.”

“Now that I know something of the culture of the Q Continuum? I do think you’re a good person. About half your flaws are species-or-culture specific, and the other half don’t outweigh the ways in which you try to do what you see as the right thing even when you have to fight your culture to do so.”

Q smiled slightly. “I think you’ve finally gone senile, Picard.” Picard stiffened slightly. “Wait. Did… you get a diagnosis?”

“Assuming that the thing you showed me was a real possible future at the time… I’ve managed to put it off for some years, based on the warning you gave me, but it’s not curable. Yes. I have Irumodic Syndrome. Thank you for the extra years, by the way. I wouldn’t have known to take the treatments that can slow it down or put it off, if not for you.”

“And you’re just going to let this happen?” Q stood up and started to pace, angrily gesticulating with his hands. “You’re all right with just losing your mind? Your intellect, your memories? You’re going to let all that disappear in a haze of confusion and end up in a nursing home drooling applesauce onto your bib?”

Picard turned his hands out and up in his lap, a shrug without shoulders. “I don’t see where I have an alternative. I suppose I could die in the course of this quest, and then I’d avoid it…”

“No.” Q spun on his heel and faced Picard. “There’s another way. Come with me.”

“Come… with you?”

“To the Continuum,” Q clarified.

Picard stood. “Q. You know I have no desire to become something other than human.”

“It isn’t about what you desire.” Q started pacing again. “I know what you want, Picard. If I was making this offer because I care about you and I don’t want to see everything that made you you slowly evaporate before you finally shuffle off this mortal coil and I never see you again, I know you’d say no. ‘I have no desire to be anything other than human, Q’, like being human is the ultimate achievement.”

“It may not be the ultimate achievement, but it is what I am. And if you’re not making this offer because you don’t want me to die—”

“I don’t want any more Q to die,” Q said, walking toward Picard, his eyes completely focused on Picard’s. “You’re a diplomat. You’ve stopped countless wars, talked species who were torn apart by civil war into negotiating with each other. And my war isn’t over, not if someone is planting bombs. And the next one could be my son. Or Amanda. Or my ex. Irritating as she is, I don’t want her to die. I don’t want any of them to die, even my enemies.” He knelt in front of Picard, looking up at him. “Please, Jean-Luc. I’m not asking because I want to make you a god and gloat about how you misuse power – in the Continuum we’re not omnipotent, anyway. I’m not asking because I don’t want you to die – I don’t, but I know you won’t accept a reason like that, and I accepted your eventual death as the consequence of caring about a mortal back when I first figured out that you were more to me than a project. I’m asking because the Q don’t have anyone like you, someone who can compromise but who has the kind of iron will and courage of convictions needed to demand that everyone around you compromise too.”

“My ability to compromise didn’t help the people of the Cardassian Demilitarized Zone, in the end,” Picard said softly. “It didn’t save the Romulans.”

“Yes, yes, are you sure you don’t already think you’re a god? You certainly take the blame like you think you’re omnipotent.” Q stood up. “I know you’ve failed at things. But you’re better at this than me. You’re better at this than any Q in the Continuum. And they won’t listen to you if you’re a mere mortal.”

“But they’ll listen to me if I’m a brand new Q?”

“Yes. Because you’ll make them listen. And because my faction will support you.” He paced again. “You’re worried about misusing your power? We can keep you from coming back to this plane of existence until everyone you cared about is dead, so you’re not tempted to intervene. You’re worried about not being human? Well, when you’re dead you’re not a human being because you’re not being anything at all. If you can contemplate ceasing to exist, how can you refuse to contemplate ceasing to exist as you are, transforming rather than dying?”

Picard took a deep breath. “If you’d come to me a few weeks ago, I might have said yes, but… I have obligations, now. I have to find Data’s other daughter, and protect her.”

Q took a deep breath. “I know where she is, but she’s beyond my reach.”

“So she’s in the Beta Quadrant, somewhere near the area of space affected by the Romulan supernova.”

“Yes.”

“And you can’t save her or help her because she’s in a place where Q power doesn’t work.”

“Yes.”

“I already know where she is, Q. She’s on the Artifact. Bruce Maddox told me, a short while ago.”

Q nodded. “Of course you do. But are you aware that when you came in and found me, you thought you were actually back home with your Romulan bodyguards?”

Cold washed over Picard. Q was right. When he’d sensed that someone was in his holographic study, the one that had been programmed to look exactly like home… he’d thought he was home. He’d thought that Laris and Zhaban were around somewhere and that the phasers they’d hidden about the room were also here. “I… yes. You’re right. I can’t deny it.” Picard took a deep breath. “But it doesn’t change anything. As long as I have enough of my mind here in the present that I can keep fighting, I need to find Soji and protect her. She’s all I have left of Data, and… I couldn’t save her sister. I owe it to Data, I owe it to Dahj to find Soji before the Zhat Vash do.”

“And that’s more important than preventing a war. A war that will cause supernovae and kill trillions of mortals as collateral damage, if it breaks out again.”

“I don’t have long to live, Q. Do I? By Q standards?”

“You could live another sixty years and it would be an eyeblink by Q standards, but… no. No, I think you have less time than that, and you know why.”

Picard nodded. “And you told me that you could, in theory, still resurrect Data, but you don’t want to bring him into a world that has banned his species. Which implies that if I died, you could, in theory, resurrect me.”

“Not if you’re in the dead zone when you die.”

“Yes, true. But if a transporter can create copies of people or hold a pattern in a buffer for 80 years, I’m fairly sure you can copy a pattern and hold it in a buffer as insurance against my death in a place you cannot reach.”

“Are you giving me permission to do that?”

“I’m saying yes. To your request. But not now. I’m still alive now, and I have obligations here. I’m not ready to give up my human existence and leave behind everyone I’ve ever known or cared for… yet. But you’re quite right. The nature of mortality says that sooner or later… I will, whether I want to or not.”

“You’re saying yes?” Q looked stunned.

Picard smiled. “I realize that my saying yes to you is an unusual occurrence, but it’s hardly unheard of.”

“I just…” Q shook his head. “I should have known. I picked you for the ability to think outside the constraints of the human condition. I’ve known all along that I could take you at the moment of your death, assuming you’re not inside the dead zone, but I didn’t realize you knew, and I didn’t think you’d give me permission.”

“There’s nothing about death, per se, that’s particularly marvelous,” Picard said dryly. “As a species, mortality gives us a reason to strive, while we live. As an individual… I can’t live forever as a human, and I shouldn’t, and I don’t want to. But from the perspective of everyone I care for, there’s no difference whether I die and cease to exist, or whether I become a new form of life but break my ties with my former existence. And…” He swallowed. “If there is any chance, any chance at all, that I can prevent what happened to Romulus from happening to other worlds… yes. Yes, very few sacrifices are too great for that. I’m willing to give up my death, and my humanity upon my death, to try to prevent war in the Q Continuum.”

“But you’re not willing to give up what remains of your life.”

“No. Soji is beyond your reach, you’ve said so. I presume the Zhat Vash are mostly beyond your reach as well. And I don’t want you stepping in to solve my problems, anyway.”

“Don’t friends help each other?”

“Yes. But friends also don’t demand godlike exercises of power from friends. You thought I’d be upset with you because you tried to save Data, and you failed, because of the bomb. Data wouldn’t have expected that of you and neither would I… alternate timelines regardless. Perhaps my grief was more raw when I said what I said in that other timeline, or perhaps you made me so angry I lashed out. Here and now, though… I want you to understand. You are not my friend because of what you can do for me, with your powers. I’ve never wanted you to do anything for me with your powers; the only time I ever called on you it was because billions of lives were at stake, and that was worth more than my pride as a human.”

“But Soji isn’t?”

Picard closed his eyes. “If you had the power to snap your fingers and ensure her safety, I might say yes, but you’ve told me you don’t. And I don’t want the Zhat Vash deciding to target the Q, not in your people’s weakened state… yes, I know, I know, you’re still omnipotent, we mere mortals can’t possibly hope to harm you, et cetera… but I know the Borg were attempting to work on a means of capturing and assimilating one of you, and that was before you had a war and invented weapons that work on your kind. I can’t rule out that the Zhat Vash could find a way to harm you if you turned your power on them as a blunt force instrument but didn’t have the power to find and stop them all.”

“I think that’s a silly thing to be afraid of, but I’m touched by your concern.” He said it as if it was sarcastic, but the expression on his face was tender. “But very well. I’ll stay out of your quest. I’ll let you live out however long you have, in your human life. I won’t do anything either to hasten or to prevent your death. And when you die, I’ll repair your mind if I have to, if Irumodic Syndrome has taken too much of it away, and I’ll make you a Q, and you’ll come to the Continuum with me to save my people, and your galaxy.”

“To try my best, at the very least,” Picard said.

Q smiled like a man who didn’t want to smile but couldn’t help himself. “You have no idea how delighted I am to hear that.” He spread his arms. “Hug?”

Picard chuckled. “I don’t do hugs, Q, I’m far too emotionally repressed for that. You know better.”

“I do, yes.” Q laughed… and then leaned in and kissed Picard on the cheek before Picard could stop him or back away. “Is that better? I understand you Frenchmen kiss each other like that all the time.”

“Two hundred years ago. Cultures change. We also don’t use expressions like ‘mon petit chou’ anymore.”

“I can’t call you my little cabbage?”

“Not without sounding hopelessly out of date and archaic.”

“You didn’t seem to mind the kiss, though.”

“I’m too old to let myself get riled up by your pranks,” Picard said, smiling broadly.

“What if it wasn’t a prank?”

“Then I’m too old to let myself get riled up by that, either.” He gripped Q’s arms by the elbows. “But don’t wait to come visit until I’m dead and it’s time for our bargain to come due. I’m going to worry about you if I don’t see you.”

Q shook his head. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

Picard released him. “And if you want to propose to me, you have to wait until we’re on the same form of existence. The stress of trying to arrange a wedding at my age really could kill me.”

Q choked on laughter for a moment. “Well, in English, ‘commitment’ is another term for being locked up in the funny farm, and that about sums up how I feel about marriage. But I’ll be absolutely sure to take you out on a few dates while you’re still human. Wine and dine you while it matters.”

“I look forward to it.” Picard glanced at the holographic replica of a clock. It wasn’t moving. Of course not. “Well, whether you have stopped time or not, apparently I am still growing tired, and the hour was late when you came to visit. I need to return to bed.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to deprive you of your beauty sleep, mon amiral.”

“I think I liked ‘mon capitaine’ better.”

“I did too. You never should have let them promote you.”

Picard shrugged. “Time moves forward. We can’t desperately cling to the past, even if it made us happier. Life gives us no choice but to keep growing and changing. Even you, I think.”

“Yes.” Q nodded in agreement. “Even me.”

“Take care of yourself, Q.”

“I’d tell you to do the same, Jean-Luc, but I know you won’t. Not while there are still swashes to buckle and fair maidens to save.”

“Well. I’ll charge into danger without much regard for the odds against me, but I promise to take care of my health, at least.”

“That’s the best I’ll get out of you, I suppose.” Q grinned, and manufactured a hat, obviously so he could tip it. “Until next time, then.”

And he was gone.

#picard/q #tapestry day #alara posts fanfic #picard #q (star trek)

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houseswolo · 5 years ago

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Day 7 - ‘Tis The Season To Be Thirsting

“That star belongs to me!”

While Rey and Kylo tussle for the star, here are today’s Thristies!

LostInQueue

(Tumblr: @lostinqueue-ffa | Twitter: LQffa | Ao3: LostInQueue)

What got you into Star Wars?

Hubs. I never watched it until after I was married. Let's just say my parents were against us watching TV... "go play outside" was all I really knew until hubs and I were married. Heh.

What made you a Reylo? Lightbulb moment!

That was a surprise actually. I mean, I noticed it in the movies, and hoped it wasn't just actor to actress interests there... but I'm a fabric designer and was looking for references for a handful of characters including Kylo to morph into a specific art style (I can't really contractually talk about) when I came across a Reylo anime style piece and that solidified it for me. The more I researched that the more I realized it wasn't just me that thought Reylo was a thing. I'm still squealing about it every time I read reylo fanfic. <3

Why do you write / make art?

Because it is fun and I'm usually inspired by others to go forward with it. I like the excitement it brings to others too :)

Which part of Adam do you like the best?

His drive. I can get behind that. He's got the looks and that is wonderful, but the drive to be the best and the intensity he's been said to have on screen and on stage is admirable. I'm scared stupid on stage. lol...

Favorite Star Wars Movie

The Last Jedi

What do you like to write / draw / paint the most?

Action in all three. I love the angles, the way the world reacts to cause and effect, all of it. There's an intensity there that I can’t quite explain but I love it!

Your TRoS Prediction

That I'm going to drink too much soda and miss something important.

If you were an aesthetic... (colors, images, feels....)

I'd be warm fuzzy socks and a warm blanket. If I had to be a place though, I think I'd be a tall cliff looking over the ocean at sunset.

If you were a candy bar, what would your name be?

(no idea - totally open for what you guys think)

What's your ideal environment for writing / creating?

A nice warm room - but not too warm because I will fall asleep.

Are you a dom or sub?

Dom in life, sub in the bedroom. If I never met you guys, I would NEVER have had the courage to write that. :P

What's the most exotic/wierd place you've gotten intimate?

Field hockey fence... yes... outside at night...

What's your kink?

arms... eyes... hair... yep, definitely arms. Can't go wrong with feeling safe.

Use three words to describe yourself.

Kind, Optomistic, Strong

Meaning behind your nick / ID name

Oh, I always went by another one and sort of wanted to distance myself from it because it’s my gaming ID. But May is my slow month for work and I just finished a huge project by then, because of this I sort of fell down the fanfic hole and started writing in between projects. When I finally had the chance to make an Ao3 LostInQueue was born. It literally means I'm between work and play.

Are you a big spoon or little spoon?

little spoon.

Do you like it rough or soft?

Rough. I put my all into life, I better get his all... O_O I'm just sayin...

Favorite toy

I can’t honestly say.

Favorite fic you read

Rolling the Dice by our very own MizuPhoenix - It mixes all of the nerdy awesomeness I never knew I needed in a fic.

Favorite fic you wrote or favorite art you made

While I absolutely love Stars... It's a solid tie between Rey's Mechanics and Triggered. Rey's Mechanics was my first go at an AU and that opened up my nerdiness with Triggered. I've had fun in the craft ever since.

Favorite SW character besides Kylo and Rey

Rose, then Finn, can I have both of them as a favorite?

_________

Kaybohls

(Tumblr: @kaybohls | Twitter: kaybohls | Ao3: kaybohls)

What got you into Star Wars?

I was raised by a die-hard trekkie. Watching Star Trek was a weekly occurrence and something super special in our family. I have vivid memories of Captain Jean-Luc Picard and pretended to be Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge with plastic headbands over my eyes acting as my visor. When I was still a little girl, I begged and pleaded with my Trekkie single dad to let me see "the space one with the princess" and the rest is history. Headband visors became braid and hair buns, and "make it so" turned into "Help me Obi-Wan Kenobi, you're my only hope." Let's save the discussion of my teenaged obsession with Han Solo for another time...

What made you a Reylo? Lightbulb moment!

I'll admit, I had the tiniest inkling of a feeling during the interrogation scene in The Force Awakens that was instantly forgotten the second that Kylo Ren, hot as he may be, killed my first true, love - Han Solo. It took time and many more viewing to understand more about the character, and by the time The Last Jedi rolled around, the INSTANT the first force bond started, I WAS ALL IN.

Which Adam look do you like the best?

It's hard to say, I love when he's in full Swolo mode, but I really can't describe how much I am loving his slimmed down, "normal" Adam look he's been sporting lately.

Which Adam avatar/ role do you like the best?

Kylo Ben, forever and ever. There's some characters I love as well, some I love to hate, but Ben will always be my top pick.

Which part of Adam do you like the best?

Easy. Dat mouth. His voice. His hands, and his eyes.

Favorite Star Wars Movie

I love ALL Star Wars. Really, I do. They all endlessly fascinate me in their own ways. I can narrow down a favorite from each trilogy, but I am SURE that The Rise of Skywalker will end up at the top of the list.

Your TRoS Prediction

I love to speculate. My friends will agree, and my family will roll their eyes, but the ONLY thing I can predict with absolute certainty, is that I will love it, no matter what. After all, it's Star Wars.

If you were an aesthetic... (colors, images, feels....)

This is probably a question best asked of someone else because, while I am a weaver of words, I find it impossible to do it for myself, haha!

What's your ideal environment for writing / creating?

My Star Wars shrine of an office and zero interruptions. Music is a must. I get an astonishing amount of work done when I’m locked in a dark room with noise-canceling headphones on.

Are you a dom or a sub?

Dom, definitely.

What's the most exotic/wierd place you've gotten intimate?

A charter bus. How, when, and what is a good story for another time.

Use three words to describe yourself

If I hyphenate, can I use more? Awkwardly-charming. Protective. Clever.

Meaning behind your nick / ID name

It’s a combination of my middle and last names because, for a creative writer, I couldn’t come up with anything more interesting. 😂

Are you a big spoon or little spoon?

BIG SPOON. I can't fall asleep without cuddling my husband's ass. I HATE being the little spoon - don't stifle me with your love!

Do you like it rough or soft?

Wouldn't you like to know? Hehehe....The romantic writer in me wants to say soft...but I'm a naughty girl...

Favorite toy

Lelo Sona - The OG Goat!

Favorite fic you read

I've read so, SO many amazing fics, but there's a few that really stand out. The Sword of the Jedi (Like Young Gods/To Kingdom Come) will FOREVER be glued to my heart.

Favorite fic you wrote or favorite art you made

Stardust. Forever and always. I could write a hundred things and this one would still be at the top.

Favorite SW character besides Kylo and Rey

Can I pick two? Yes? Okay good. HAN and LEIA.

____________

Meet the Other Thirsties! Thirst Order Advent Calendar Day:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

cc: @tazwren @drnucleus @ashtyntaytertot @deadlikemoi @nite0wl29 @thereylowritingden @housedadam @houseplaidam @house-crylo @housereysistance @my-jedi-life @shestoolazytologin @koderenn @thoseindarkness @areylofan @lostinqueue-ffa @queenoferebor @kaybohls @cosmo-gonika @roguesinside @wilsonthinks66 @dangertaylor

#reylo #reylo fam #reylo fanfic #reylo fanart

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badchoicesposts · 5 years ago

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Don’t Dream It’s Over Chapter 6

Series Summary: Liam and Ali thought that their relationship was perfect, but their whole world came crashing down when Constantine called him back to Cordonia. Four years later they meet again at Liam’s bachelor party, determined to make things between them work even if it isn’t always easy.

In this AU, Liam and MC (Ali Moonessar) dated for a year in New York while Leo was still crown prince. They broke up when Constantine asked Liam to come back to Cordonia, but they meet again at Liam’s bachelor party before the social season. The story will contain flashbacks, which will be italicized, of their relationship and follow them as they try to navigate the season with Ali as a suitor. I’ve messed around with the timeline a bit so that it fits the story better. I’ve also added in a few OCs of my own.

Pairing: Liam x MC (Ali Moonessar)

Word Count: 3,665

Song Inspiration: Old Money- Lana Del Rey

DISCLAIMER: Some of Bertrand’s dialogue is taken from TRR Book 1 Chapter 4. I’ve also changed up the timeline of the social season a bit to fit my story better. I based it off of some research I did on the British Social Season.

Taglist:@flowerpowell, @kingliam2019, @ao719, @emceesynonymroll, @hopefulmoonobject, @dcbbw, @qammh-blog, @liamxs-world, @drakesensworld, @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @timmagickfrog, @lauradowning29

A/N: This is my first time ever posting a fic. Please let me know if you enjoyed it and would like to read more. I thrive on validation, lol. Thanks for reading!

Catch Up: Masterlist

Ali and Liam were two very different people. There was no doubt about it. They were crazy about each other regardless, but at first glance anyone would believe that they had absolutely nothing in common.

Liam rivaled Luca for the title of the most well-rounded person she had ever met. He was tall, well dressed, and well respected by everyone he met. His blond hair was always annoyingly perfect, even when it had been slept on for the full seven hours of sleep he got every night, and he was good at everything he tried to do. He worked out five days a week and had a natural charm that drew people towards him wherever he went. Liam slept on silk sheets, drank expensive liquor and, worst of all, was a morning person. He was always up early, eager to start his day and be productive. He was typically easy going, but he could take action and control a situation effortlessly when he needed to.

Ali, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. She barely reached five feet tall in the right pair of heels and spent most of her time in sweatpants or leggings because of the insecurities she had about her body. Her workout routine consisted mainly of walking everywhere she needed to go, and she had terrible social anxiety. She had no constant sleep schedule, and at this point, she was practically nocturnal, only being able to get in small amounts of sleep during the day due to her insomnia. She had found her current bed sheets from the discount bin of a department store, and the most she ever spent on alcohol was twenty dollars for a bottle of tequila. She had perfect grades, but she was still constantly stressed about them.

Liam was put together, and on most days she was a hot mess. When she says the words “trust me, I know what I’m doing” there’s about a seventy-five percent chance that she has no idea what she’s doing. However, when he said the same words, she never once doubted him. That is until he decided he could repair the clogged drain in his kitchen sink on his own. Her suspicions were confirmed as she watched the Prince of Cordonia, his nice dress shirt soaked in water, fiddle with a pipe, determined to be “normal”.

“Love, maybe you should just call someone,” she said, raising her voice slightly so he could hear her from where the upper half of his body was lying under the sink.

“I can do this,” he called back, irritation evident in his voice.

“Sure you can,” she mumbled under her breath, taking a seat on a stool in the kitchen. “Have ever even looked at a pipe like that before?”

The banging noises she heard from under the sink was her only response, and she rolled her eyes as she texted Drake to tell him to contact the building’s superintendent. A few minutes passed by in silence before there was a sudden popping sound and Liam’s angry voice filled the room. Ali looked up to see him emerging from under the sink soaking wet, while more water pooled onto the kitchen floor. She wanted to be mad that he had made the situation worse and not given up when he realized that he didn’t know what he was doing, but the sight of him before her made her burst out laughing.

“It’s not funny,” he said, sending a glare in her direction.

“Yes, it is,” she replied when she had finally managed to calm herself down.

He narrowed his bright blue eyes at her, trying his best to stay mad, but he knew that it was a losing battle. He knew that he looked ridiculous.

“I guess we can cross chef and plumber off of your list of potential jobs,” she said, starting to giggle again as she remembered their first date where he tried to cook for her.

“Now stop the water and clean up that mess. The super will be here in the morning.”

Liam watched as his girlfriend ran out of the room before he could get another word in.

~~~

Ali frantically walked back and forth between her bed and her closet, Lana Del Rey’s Old Money playing softly in the background. It was 12:57 AM and Liam’s plane would be leaving in less than ten hours. She had been packing and unpacking her suitcase for the past two hours. Every time she made up her mind to go, something told her to stay, and every time she made up her mind to stay, something told her to go. She looked down at the text on her phone from Maxwell giving her the flight information and started piling things into her suitcase again. She was just about to close it and try to get a few hours of sleep before the flight when she looked over at her nightstand and saw the framed picture of her and all of the Larson siblings that she always kept there. They all had their arms wrapped around each other and were smiling happily into the camera.

“Nope, not going,” she mumbled to herself, hastily pulling things out of the bag and dropping them on the floor.

The sound of a throat clearing behind her caused her to stop what she was doing and turn around.

“Oh, hey, Luc. I didn’t know that you were still up,” she said.

“Yeah, I was just about to turn in for the night when I saw your light on. I assume by this mess that you haven’t made a decision yet.”

“I’m not going,” she tried to say firmly.

Luca sighed and made his way further into her room.

“You should go,” he said softly.

“I should?” Ali asked, sitting down on the bed.

“If a part of you didn’t want to then you wouldn’t be having such a hard time making the decision. If it all works out you could have everything you’ve ever wanted. You owe it to yourself to go.”

Ali groaned and dropped to her back, her legs still dangling off the side of the bed.

“What if we’re too different? It’s been forever since we were together. What if it doesn’t work out? What about everything here?” she asked, staring up at the ceiling.

Luca walked over to her and grabbed both of her hands in his before pulling her back up into a sitting position.

“You worked so well together because you were different. You balanced each other out. You made each other happy. Besides, if things still don’t work out, you’ll always have a place to come home to,” he said softly.

He kissed her forehead lovingly before leaving the room, the door closing behind him quietly.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ali was clutching the handle of her bag tightly in her hand as she ran as fast as she could through the airport, cursing herself for being so out of shape. After speaking with Luca she still hadn’t been able to properly make up her mind until the last possible second and now there was only five minutes until the plane left. She caught sight of Charlie’s red hair and sighed in relief when he turned around and saw her.

“I knew you would come,” he said, a bright smile breaking out across his face. He was standing next to Bastien, both dressed in grey suits.

“Yeah,” she huffed out, trying desperately to catch her breath, “Back on duty, I see.” She motioned to his uniform with one hand, the other clutching her side as she gasped for air.

“Yes, but we can talk about that later. There’s someone waiting for you on that plane,” he said, motioning for her to board the plane.

“Right,” she said, taking a deep breath and beginning to walk slowly.

Bastien and Charlie were following closely behind her, and the reality that she couldn’t turn back was now hitting her. Upon entering the private plane she saw Drake, Ben, Maxwell, and Leo all lounging casually on large leather seats. Liam had been anxiously pacing up and down the aisle but had immediately stopped at the sound of their footsteps. A large smile broke out over his face at the sight of her.

“You came,” he said.

“Yeah, I did,” she said, fighting her own smile as she launched herself into his arms.

He held her tightly and for a moment all of the doubts she had about leaving New York disappeared. Leo and Maxwell shared a pleased look as the two took their seats next to each other. The plane began to take off, and Ali felt surprisingly calm as she looked out the small window.

“Are you excited?” Maxwell asked her happily, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Um, yeah… that’s one word for it,” she said awkwardly.

“You’ll be amazing,” Liam said, bringing her hand up to his lips and gently kissing her knuckles.

“You two are disgusting,” Ben joked, prompting a laugh from the group.

They were well on their way to Cordonia now and Maxwell took the opportunity to begin explaining to her what would be happening when they arrived.

“For the next few weeks you’ll stay at the Beaumont estate in Ramsford with my brother Bertrand and I,” Maxwell said.

“Is your brother anything like you?” Ali asked him.

Drake scoffed slightly, causing Ali to raise her brows in question.

“What Drake means is that Bertrand can be kind of… strict. He’s not exactly happy that I’m bringing in a suitor that doesn’t know anything about court or nobility,” Maxwell said with a cringe, “But that just means that we’ll have to spend the next few weeks turning you into a proper lady of the court.”

“Sounds like fun.” Ali tried to force a smile on her face, but it came out as more of a grimace.

“That’s the spirit!’ Leo laughed, ending his sentence with a good-natured clap to her shoulder.

“Once the social season starts, we’ll be spending most of our time at the palace. Most of the nobility live there during the season, including the ladies vying for Liam’s hand,” Maxwell continued.

“Yeah, living under one roof makes it easier to attend the rose ceremony later,” Drake mumbled under his breath.

Ali snorted before stopping to pull herself together.

“Sorry, that probably wasn’t very ladylike,” she said sarcastically.

“You’re no lady of the court,” Drake said.

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” she said.

“Trust me, it is.”

The two locked eyes for a moment, having a silent conversation. Drake had played a part in convincing her to come, but she also knew how he felt about court and the people there. He always said that Liam was the only one of them that was worth a damn. She knew that Drake wanted to protect her, but there was also a certain edge to his voice as he said those words that she couldn’t quite place.

“Drake,” Liam said, a warning tone in his voice. Ali looked between the two for a moment before Maxwell broke through the tense silence.

“As I was saying, the social season typically lasts for about five months. There are usually a few large events like balls that the entire court attends and there are some smaller events like dinner parties that are invitation only.”

“Not gonna lie, that sounds like… a lot,” Ali said.

“Trust me it is,” Drake said, running his fingers through his hair.

Everyone began to break off into their own conversations and Ali turned to Liam to find him already looking down at her.

“Liam, I’m kind of scared,” she said, chuckling half-heartedly.

She looked down at her hands and began anxiously picking at the skin on the side of her nail.

Liam tilted her head so that she was looking up into his eyes before moving his hand to cup the side of her face, his thumb gently stroking her cheek.

“I know, but I meant it when I said that you’ll be amazing. This is a big adjustment, and I’m afraid I may not be able to be with you as much as I would like to, but you will always have my support. You are the strongest and most capable woman I know, Ali. I don’t doubt for a second that you’ll do great things,” he replied.

Ali smiled and leaned into him as their lips met in a gentle kiss. She rested her head onto his shoulder and felt her eyes closing before falling into a dreamless sleep.

She opened them a while later to the feeling of Liam shaking her awake. Her head was still on his shoulder and their fingers were entwined together. At some point during her nap he had removed her glasses and was now trying to hand them to her.

“We’ll be landing soon. If you look out the window you’ll see Cordonia,” he said with a smile.

She turned her head sleepily and gazed out the window at the land below them. In her still half asleep state, she could just make out twinkling lights against the landscape.

“Wow.”

“Home sweet home,” Drake sighed, looking out the window as well.

Ali groaned as she watched everyone begin to exit the plane one by one. The position she had been seated in had put a strain on her back, and as she tried to stretch it out, the pain only intensified.

“Maxwell, can you give us a minute alone please,” Liam asked politely, pulling her out of her thoughts as she continued to stretch. The other man, who had been waiting for his new friend, nodded and exited.

Even though she knew they were alone, the thought of everyone else just a few steps away gave Ali the feeling that she was being watched. She didn’t have much time to ponder on this fact, however. Liam grabbed her hips and pulled her so that her body was pressed flush against his, all thoughts of the rest of the group automatically leaving her mind. His lips crashed roughly into hers, and she found herself grabbing onto his arms to steady herself. She moaned softly against his mouth as she felt his tongue against her bottom lip.

“Um, guys?” Charlie said hesitantly.

They jumped away from each other immediately, Ali’s hand going up to cover her mouth as she looked anywhere but at the red-haired man in front of her and Liam loudly clearing his throat. Charlie stood there uncomfortably for a moment before speaking again.

“We need to head out.”

With one more gentle kiss and whispered ‘I love you’, Ali got into the large black car with Maxwell and stared at Liam’s retreating form.

“You’ll see him again,” he said, patting her shoulder in a comforting manner.

“Yeah,” she said, staring out the window at the passing trees, “I know you said your brother isn’t exactly excited that I’m going to be representing House Beaumont, but what exactly am I walking into with him?”

Maxwell seemed to ponder her words for a moment.

“Well, Bertrand’s been a little more stressed than normal lately, so it may take some time, but I’m sure he’ll warm up to you eventually.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t exactly make me feel any better.”

Conversation with Maxwell flowed easily. Even though she had only known his for a few days, Ali found herself completely comfortable with him, and she felt as if she could tell him anything. The car ride passed by in a series of laughs and before she knew it, they were pulling up to the large Beaumont Estate.

“Wow,” Ali found herself saying for the second time in an hour, “Maxwell, this place is gorgeous.”

The grounds of the large house definitely looked like it was fit for nobility, and Ali stepped out of the car trying to imagine what the inside looked like. Maxwell had already made it to the trunk of the SUV and was trying to somehow carry all of his bags and her own at the same time.

“Yup, that’s home,” he replied, his voice strained as he tried to support the weight of their things.

“Max, you know I can carry my own bags, right?” she said with a laugh, making her way over to help him.

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I let a lady carry her own bag?”

Ali playfully rolled her eyes and took her luggage from him.

“I promise I won’t tell anyone,” she said sarcastically.

The large front doors of the house were made of intricately carved wood and pushed open to reveal a large foyer. The ceiling rose high above her head, and an antique chandelier kept the area brightly lit.

“Follow me. I’ll show you to your room, and then we can find Bertrand,” Maxwell said and began leading her up the large staircase.

As he led her through various hallways, Ali had to mentally keep track of every turn that they took so that she wouldn’t get lost later. However, as large and spectacular as the home was, she couldn’t help but notice that there were no people in sight.

“This is my room,” Maxwell said, gesturing to an unopened door as they passed it, “And that’s yours.”

He pointed to a door that was right down the hall from his and allowed her to walk ahead so that she could open it.

“Oh my god,” Ali said, taking the large four poster bed and the bedding that probably cost more than she made in a year at the bar.

“Yes, I’m sure the room is probably quite spectacular for someone of your tastes,” came a voice from behind them.

Ali turned around, not sure whether or not to be offended. The man who had spoken looked like every boring history professor stereotype that she had ever heard combined into one. He was covered in tweed from head to toe and had large, leather elbow patches on his jacket. There was a scowl on his face as he looked her up and down.

“He doesn’t mean anything by that,” Maxwell said quickly, trying to cover for him. “Bertrand, this is the one I was telling you about… Ali!”

“This is the girl you’ve chosen to represent our house?” Bertrand asked.

A skeptical look crossed his features, and Ali suddenly became very aware of the fact that her curls were ruffled from sleeping on the plane and that she was wearing an old hoodie that she had taken from Cole and was probably three sizes too big. She tugged at the hem of it self-consciously and smiled awkwardly at the man in front of her.

“Yep! Nailed it right?” Maxwell said, smiling widely. “Ali, this is my older brother, Bertrand.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Bertrand,” Ali said politely.

“The proper way to address a duke is ‘Your Grace’,” Bertrand responded stiffly.

“Oh, right! I’m so sorry, Your Grace,” Ali said, her cheeks heating up. She hadn’t even been in Cordonia for an hour and she was already making mistakes.

“At least it looks like you can be trained.”

Ali clenched her jaw at his words.

“Trained? I’m not your pet!” she said, anger rising in her voice.

Bertrand met her gaze and the two stared at each other for a moment.

“Maxwell, a word in private,” he said, turning and walking out the door.

Maxwell shot her a strained smile and followed his brother, shutting the door behind them. She could just barely hear their voices through the door, and although their words were muffled, she knew that the conversation was about her. Ali sighed and looked up at the ceiling, wondering what she was getting herself into. The door reopened, and a flustered Maxwell and a red-faced Bertrand reentered.

“It seems that we’re stuck with you,” Bertrand says, once again looking her over.

“If me being here really is that much of an issue I can just go, and your family can choose some other girl to sponsor,” Ali said, crossing her arms.

She didn’t expect things to be easy. She knew that there would be people who didn’t support her in Cordonia, but Bertrand was supposed to be her sponsor, and she was getting tired of his attitude. They had only known each other for five seconds, and he was already saying that she wasn’t good enough.

“No! You can’t go. We’ve already chosen you, so if you leave we’ll have no one. Besides, you could be Liam’s only chance of finding actual happiness. I’ve seen the way you look at each other. You’re the only person that he’s ever loved,” Maxwell said, pleading with her.

Ali uncrossed her arms and sighed, her features softening at his words. These actions didn’t go unnoticed by the duke who was now looking at her curiously.

“Perhaps Maxwell didn’t fully explain this to you, but if our house puts forth the Prince’s choice, we’ll win fame and recognition,” he began.

“Something we could really use right now actually, ‘cause we’re kind of broke,” Maxwell finished.

“Maxwell! You overstep,” Bertrand said angrily.

Ali looked between the two brothers.

“There’s no shame in being broke,” she said softly, “Do you guys get money if I marry Liam?”

“Not… directly, but we can leverage the prestige to great effect. It would be a scandal if word got out of our financial ruin,” Bertrand said.

Ali could tell that they were in a difficult situation, and although Bertrand only seemed to be concerned with her marrying Liam so she could help with their finances, she could tell that Maxwell had pure intentions.

“I love Liam and want to be with him, and I want to help you guys as much as I can. So, if that means not talking back to Bertrand and learning how to be a lady of the court then fine. I’ll do it,” she said.

#the royal romance #trr #the royal heir #trh #liam x mc #the royal romance fic #trr fic #liam x mc fanfic #liam #king liam #my fics #choices fics #choices #playchoices #playchoices fic #king liam fanfic #the royal romance fanfic #liam fic #playchoices fanfic

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thursdays-fallen-angel · 7 years ago

Text

A birthday gift for @hily-shot, who put the idea of a secret admirer fic in my head forever ago, even if she probably doesn’t remember it now. Happy birthday, my smol friend. <3

(destiel, punk!Cas and jock!Dean, hs!au, 3k)

AO3

For the third day in a row, there’s a sticky note on Castiel’s locker. It’s innocuous in and of itself, but also bright pink and impossible to miss what with the way the color contrasts with the dull, grey lockers. Castiel sees it long before he reaches it, the sight both making his blood boil and sending butterflies bursting through his stomach.

He hates it.

He snatches the note off of the locker’s metal surface as quickly as he can, knowing Meg isn’t far behind him and not wanting her to see. He shields the small paper with his palms while he reads it.

Cas—

Your hair looks good today. It looks soft. I want to run my fingers through it.

Castiel rolls his eyes, even as his cheeks burn with a blush. He can’t decide if this one is better or worse than the last; it certainly isn’t as embarrassing as the first had been. But that doesn’t mean he wants anyone to know about them—he opens his locker and shoves the note into the back, stashing it behind a never-used chemistry textbook with the previous notes. He doesn’t want to see them, doesn’t want to acknowledge their existence.

He’s not sure which of his ‘friends’ is behind the stupid prank, but he’s taken a ‘guilty until proven innocent’ stance for the time being, and hates them all for it equally. He knows it’s not Meg—she’s sweet on him, she wouldn’t mess with him in this way—but it could very well be Balthazar, or Raphael, or Bart, or Uriel, or even some combination of those dicks working together. He wouldn’t be surprised.

After all, it’s not like anyone would seriously leave these kinds of messages for him (no matter how endearing the sentiment might be, or how his stomach still twists like it is real, despite his belief of the opposite). Castiel isn’t the only ‘punk’ in the school, the only one with tattoos and piercings and a unique ability to make teachers hate him—his ‘friends’ also tend to fall in that category, to various degrees, which is the only reason Castiel aligns himself with them in the first place. He is, however, the only one who’s gay. He’s not the token in the school, but he’s the token in his own clique, and that’s what brings the hellfire down on him. His friends aren’t homophobic, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t other ways to harass him.

But no one on the outside of their group would ever take an interest in him, and certainly no one would have such nice things to say about him.

Castiel pulls his books for English out of his locker with jerky movements, rushed, thanks to the kinetic nervousness making itself at home in his gut. He doesn’t notice Meg coming up behind him, and he startles when she suddenly speaks, dropping his copy of Slaughterhouse-Five with a dull thump.

“You alright there, angel-face? Lookin’ a little… stressed.”

Castiel whips his head up to glare at her, a thunderous expression which only serves to earn him a raised eyebrow. He drops to pick up his book and shoves it into his bag. “It’s nothing,” he bites out, “don’t worry about it.”

“…Right.” Meg shifts to lean against the wall of lockers beside him, her hip popped out and arms folded. “So other than the fact that that’s total bullshit, should I be concerned?”

“No.” Castiel slams his locker shut, and turns on his heel, away from Meg. She makes an offended sound, but not even that stops him from storming off toward his first class.

If he doesn’t talk about it, he can go on pretending it isn’t happening. And, most importantly, he can go on pretending he doesn’t wish it was real.

The following morning, Meg is already standing beside Castiel’s locker when he arrives. He doesn’t think twice about it at first, but as he approaches, she grins and holds out her index finger. There’s a bright pink sticky note stuck to it.

Castiel’s stomach drops.

“Looks like you got a fan, Clarence,” she coos, the sweetness in her voice at-odds with her wicked grin. She holds the note out to him and recites it from memory, adopting a dreamy, love-struck tone. Even from a few feet away, he can read the neat, blocky letters that line up with what she says. “Cas, your smile lights up a room. You should do it more.” She glances slyly at Castiel. “Looks like you’ve been keeping secrets. Who’s the lucky lady?”

Castiel rips the sticky note away from her and, once he’s managed to quell his shaking hands long enough to get his locker open, shoves it in the back to join the growing collection of notes there. His cheeks burn and Meg’s amusement isn’t helping anything. He tries to ignore her. He wants to pretend she doesn't exist. He wants to pretend he doesn't exist, for god’s sake. He doesn't want any of this to be happening.

Meg’s continued teasing doesn't make his pretending easy. She's too skilled at reading him for her own good.

“Oh, dear,” she says, tone sweeping and dramatic, with no little amount of amusement, “you don't even know, do you, angel cake. A secret admirer—and here I was thinking I'd seen all of the best cliches. Gotta say, whoever this kid is, they're good. They must be pretty damn crazy about you, if they're leaving you stuff that tooth-rotting.”

Castiel slams his locker closed with a scowl. He thought his stomach was in knots before—it's only getting worse the longer Meg goes on. He doesn’t know what to do with the thought of anyone being crazy about him. Him, Castiel Novak. He considers himself lucky to have people he can call friends, what could he possibly have done to be worthy of potential romantic interest?

“Maybe this’ll be that chance you’ve been waiting for to finally get laid, huh?” Meg adds, and the last of Castiel’s resilience crumbles away to nothing. He doesn’t want to deal with this shit any more.

Fuck it. Who needs class, anyway?

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he growls, pointedly ignoring her smug grin as he turns away. He shoves past some meathead in a varsity jacket who was standing much too close to his locker, and beelines toward the exit. He doesn't give a damn who it was, and he pays them no attention. After that, everyone sees him coming and steers clear, parting before him like the Red Sea.

He doesn't look back to see the varsity jacket boy staring after him in mute shock.

He wouldn’t care, anyway. He’s just anxious to get home.

His locker is note-less the next morning. After the scuffle he had with Meg over it—a scuffle which was later continued over text, much to Castiel’s chagrin—he's grateful for the reprieve. He can tell that she still wants to make a comment when the two of them reach the blank metal door of his locker, can see the wicked glint in her eyes, but he silences her with a glare, and for once, it has the desired effect.

He resolutely tells himself that he’s not disappointed that his so-called ‘secret admirer’ looks to have been scared away—he’s just surprised, is all. A note-leaving pattern of close to two weeks has been broken. That’s all it is. Even if this is Raphael or someone, it’s odd. Obviously. There’s no other emotions, there.

God, he’s like a prepubescent girl.

He listens with half an ear while Meg talks his head off about some incident with Luc, her on-again-off-again boyfriend from the other side of town, and keeps his answers to monosyllabic grunts. His lack of enthusiasm doesn't deter her, and she continues on well through their shared first period. His second hour is a blessing of silence, as is his third, but there's a trickle of tension in his gut that inspires him to keep to himself even more than usual. Through all of his classes, he keeps a book propped open on his lap beneath his desk, and reads to escape his thoughts.

It works well, until he gets to English.

“Vonnegut, huh?” a voice to his left says, and Castiel startles so hard that the book falls closed in his lap. He’s sure he can find his place again, but logic isn’t enough to quell his burst of irritation as he turns a glare up at the speaker.

Said speaker turns out to be a boy Castiel is vaguely familiar with. Or--okay, very familiar with. Everyone in the school knows the captain of the wrestling team/varsity tight end on the football team/ASB vice president, Dean Winchester. And alright, maybe Castiel has, well, taken note of him in the past. Several times. Often. Maybe he’s caught himself staring a few times.

So he knows exactly who Dean Winchester is. Who doesn’t?

But whether he knows of him or not, this is definitely a first. They’ve never spoken, Dean and Castiel. Jock and punk don’t exactly mix well, at least in the eyes of the broader social sphere of a high school. He can’t quite understand why it’s happening now—which is why his surprise is quickly hidden behind a mask of disgruntlement.

“Vonnegut,” he confirms a beat later, eyes narrowed slightly. He doesn’t know what to do here; does he go on the defensive, or assume that Dean’s comment is good-natured? He hedges neutrally, “You’re… familiar with his works?”

For all of Castiel’s paranoia, however, Dean just seems genuinely enthusiastic about his choice in novel. His eyes (so very green; Castiel rarely allows himself the opportunity to look at them, not eager to be caught staring) are bright with excitement. “Hell yeah, I know his works! My favorite is Cat’s Cradle, but Slaughterhouse-Five is a damn close second. I’ve got a copy at home that I’ve read, like, a dozen times.”

Castiel blinks. Dean Winchester, a reader? And of pulpy sci-fi at that. Sure, they share an AP English class, but he’d always assumed…

Well. He’s not quite sure what he assumed, actually. Maybe he should feel guilty for that.

He wets his lips and searches for something to say in return. He comes up woefully short, but eventually settles on, “I’m not a huge fan of Cat’s Cradle. The ending was too bizarre for me.”

Dean laughs, loud and bright. It makes Castiel’s heart swell. “It's not for everyone,” he concedes. There's a moment of hesitation, then, and though Dean’s good mood remains in place, he starts to look a bit nervous.

When Castiel raises a pierced eyebrow, Dean’s nervousness takes on a degree of embarrassment. He bites his lower lip, and the sight definitely should not hold the entirety of Castiel’s attention like it does. He's so distracted that he nearly misses it when Dean eventually speaks.

“You weren't in class yesterday.”

“I was sick.” The lie falls from Castiel’s tongue without a second thought. It's only once he's spoken that he recognizes the implication that Dean noticed his absence. His cheeks warm. “I—”

“Do you want the notes?” Dean asks. He's already flipping back a few pages in his notebook, and rambling on as if his lines were already prepared long before Castiel even gave his answer. “I can take pictures of what I have and text them to you, if you want? Or, I mean, you can take pictures yourself, but sometimes I'm not always clear with what I write, so I could explain things, and we talked about the next project we’re doing, so—”

“Mr. Winchester,” a voice calls from the front of the room, and Dean immediately falls silent. His eyes, unfortunately, leave Castiel as he turns to the front of the room, looking cowed. Castiel would know; he can't tear his eyes away.

Mrs. Mills continues sternly, “If you and Mr. Novak can't behave yourselves and stop chatting, I will be forced to both separate you, and discipline you. This is supposed to be a quiet work time. So help me god, Dean, I will make you run lines at practice today if I have to.”

Castiel wonders if Mrs. Mills targeted Dean instead of himself because she's his coach (for which sport, he hasn't the slightest idea) or because he was clearly the instigator, but regardless, he's oddly glad for it. Dean’s blush is a beautiful sight to behold. He doesn't mind getting yelled at by his teachers, but lord, this is so much better.

“And Mr. Novak.”

Damnit.

He finally turns his attention forward, frowning to let his teacher know just how displeased he is with the development.

She isn't fazed. She never is. It's admirable, really.

“I have a task for you. Come up here, please?”

Castiel represses an eyeroll, but goes obediently to the front of the room. The ‘task’ turns out to be a trip to the library to pick up a copy of their new assigned reading book. It’s a bit obnoxious, having to go all the way across the school, but he does need the book, so he shuts his mouth and goes.

When he returns to class twenty minutes later, there’s a pink sticky note protruding from between the pages, and Dean is gone. The sight of it shocks Castiel to his core. He pointedly ignores the way his hands tremble when he reaches for the book, and flips it open to the marked page. His eyes go to the note, first.

Cas—

I should’ve worked up the courage to talk to you a long time ago.

It’s okay if you’re not interested in me. I get it. But just know… everything I said in the notes is true.

Castiel can’t breathe. His gaze slides to the illustration on the opposite page, and his heart clenches.

Everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt.

The following morning, he stakes out early.

It takes some careful maneuvering, admittedly—he has to make sure Meg is occupied, so that she can't blow his cover, and he has to actually beg Gabriel to drive him to school earlier than usual, since his elder brother is typically half-asleep at their normal time. But in the end, Castiel manages to pull it all off. And that’s how, at seven o’clock in the morning, Castiel finds himself the only student in the hallways, lurking in an alcove and mostly-hidden behind a bank of lockers, just down the way from his own.

At this hour, the school is almost unnaturally silent. It gives him too much space to think, to ruminate over what an idiot he’s probably being, because there’s still a good chance he’s being pranked—but it also gives him time to think about how this might possibly go down, and, more importantly, it gives him the ability to hear every set of footsteps that approaches.

He really, really hopes he understands what’s happening here, correctly.

For the first fifteen minutes of his stakeout, not much happens. A few teachers walk past him in either direction, but aside from one exchanged, “Good morning,” with Castiel’s AP Bio teacher, none of them pay him any mind. A number of students start to filter through, as well, but there’s still not much going on.

Until a telltale varsity jacket hurries past his hiding place.

Castiel’s heart just about stops in his chest, but thankfully, he isn’t seen. He holds his breath for a few seconds, remaining as still and silent as he can, and then carefully turns and peers around the edge of the lockers beside him to spy down the hallway.

Even through the heavy fabric of his jacket, the set of Dean’s shoulders looks nervous. He glances left, then right, then slides his backpack off of his shoulder and reaches into the outermost pocket. When he draws out a stack of pink sticky notes and a pen, peeling one off and starting to scribble a message across it, Castiel pushes off of the wall he’s been waiting against and closes the distance between them with silent feet.

When he reaches him, Castiel grabs Dean’s shoulder and flips him around, then boxes him in against the lockers with his arms. They’re so close that Castiel can taste Dean’s surprised exhalation, can hear the almost-whimper that he clearly tries to stifle.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks, and Dean just makes that sound again.

“I…” The other boy—the most perfect boy in the entire school, probably in the entire world, if Castiel is being honest—seems at a loss for words. He swallows audibly, his eyes wide as they sweep across Castiel’s face. “I told you yesterday that I mean it, I don't know—”

“You said,” Castiel interrupts, “that it's okay if I'm not interested in you. Was that to say that you are interested in me?”

Dean’s face is bright red with embarrassment. It takes him a moment, but he nods.

Castiel’s stomach swoops in a way it never has before. A part of him wants to ask why, wants to figure out how, not just anyone, but Dean Winchester could have feelings for him—but the larger part of him is tired of drawing this out. He presses closer to the boy, and is thrilled when he doesn't so much as lean away.

“You're right,” Castiel says, “you should have talked to me sooner.”

He seals his lips against Dean’s, then, kissing him before he can talk himself out of it. Dean’s lips are soft and plush, and he eagerly kisses back, once he gets with the program.

“Fuck yeah, I should’ve,” Dean breathes when they part. He cards his fingers through Castiel’s hair, but only seems to recognize the significance of the action after he's done it. He looks overjoyed, then pushes both of his hands into Castiel’s locks, purely because he can. “Jesus Christ, I knew it’d be soft.”

Castiel can't help but laugh. “Keep saying nice things to me, and I'll let you touch it whenever you want.”

Dean’s eyes somehow light up even more at that. “How about this Friday? Can I touch it then, maybe after some burgers and a movie?”

It's a bit rash, but Castiel is helpless but to kiss him again. He needs to remind himself that this is really happening, and it's far more effective than a pinch to the arm would have been. When he pulls back a few moments later to give them both the chance to breathe, he grins. “Friday sounds great to me.”

The notes continue after they start dating, of course. They’re not always daily, but Castiel still finds them often enough, and the sight never fails to fill him with happiness. Only now, he doesn’t hide them in a crumpled pile at the back of his locker. No, the notes from Dean, so precious and loved, have a special place at home, tucked neatly away in his desk drawer.

Cas—

You're gorgeous when you talk about your passions. You shouldn't hide them as much as you do.

Cas—

You’re kinder than you let on. You’re better than you think you are.

Cas—

You outshine everyone here.

Cas—

I wish you could see how incredible you are.

Cas—

I love you.

Castiel considers himself to be very fortunate in his life. And he always makes sure to express the same sappy sentiments in return—only, he always says it to his boyfriend’s face.

Dean’s blush always makes it worth it.

#you're welcome in advance Emma #this is one of my finest works #destiel #destiel ficlet #punk!cas #jock!dean #secret admirer!au #hs!au #makenna's writing

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madelinecoffee · 7 years ago

Text

The Right People Ch. 2

Summary: Its Junior Year of college and after the break-up with her ex-girlfriend Riley Matthews wants to focus on school and her friends, most especially her new friendship with Lucas. She’s hoping that with the right people this year will be a great one. Fancast: x A/N: In this Riley is bisexual, and this fic does deal with emotional abuse. If you’re sensitive to that proceed reading this fic with caution. Next time: Girls’ Night In, Riley gets some texts, Girls’ night gets crashed Word Count: 2,651 Ch. 1

A large part of Lucas liked Wednesdays, he had class with Riley and it was the day they met up to do reviewing and their partner assignments for their shared class. They were in the middle of the third week of classes and Lucas and his friends had fallen into a schedule, they almost always ate diner together and they would mostly each lunch together. But every other day usually ended up being Riley and him and one of their friends, usually Farkle. He of course loved hanging out with his friends, and being with Riley anytime was great. He was sure she was quickly becoming his best friend. But he loved when it was just the two of them and she would talk with him. They were never at a loss for things to say and he felt like he could tell the pretty brunette anything. And their assignment they were working on today would involve a lot of back and forth, idea bouncing, one on one time with Riley and Lucas could not wait.

What he could wait for was his science class he had Monday, Wednesday and Friday in the morning. The class itself was interesting but his current lab partner was the devil re-incarnate, he was sure of it. She had red-ish blonde hair that was straight as a pin and was constantly turning her head and hitting him in the face with it. She also never did her share of the work, always trying to get him to do it. And she never stooped talking. Today she was rambling on to Jessie and his partner Abby who sat across from them about this girl she had hooked up with this past weekend.

“So we’re getting back to my place and things are getting heated…” Lucas tried to tune her out as he got his stuff out, he really didn’t care until Jessie spoke up,

“Wait…I thought you already had a girlfriend? I liked her she was always nice” Lucas liked Jessie they had previously had classes together and Jessie too seemed to want to stop hearing up her sex life as much as he did.

His lab partner scoffed, “No. We broke up before summer. And of course she was nice to you, she probably wanted to get in your pants. Thank god we’re over she was awful. She was so insecure and was always doing the wrong thing. I mean man she was so gorgeous. Those cheek bones and her legs. But her looks couldn’t save the insecurity that dripped off her. Plus she was bi and I just don’t need to deal with that.” Lucas couldn’t help but scoff at her statement and speak up.

“What do you mean she was bi and that was an issue?”

“Just ya know, bi girls are usually cheaters. They can’t be happy with just one gender they’re greedy and want it all.” Lucas was about to loose it, but he counted to ten and kept his temper under control.

“Well I don’t think that’s true at all a few of my best friends are bi girls and neither of them is a cheater.” Before his lab partner could respond the class started. Of course they were assigned a group project. Lucas was thankful that after this project they would be switching up partners, and that Abby and Jessie would be working with them too. They had to rush off to class but talked about meeting up later that week to start.

An hour or so later Lucas was in his room fuming once again at his lab partner. She was being so uncooperative in making plans for their project and he was still pissed about her earlier comments. It was just boiling inside of him and this was the last straw. He tired to do his coping skills but the rage took over and before thinking forcefully punched the wall.

“Fuck!”

“Oh my god Lucas!” Riley ran over and grabbed the hand he had just used to punch the wall, in his fit of rage over his lab partner he had forgotten that Riley was coming over. Zay or Farkle must have let her into the apartment. He felt so embarrassed he didn’t want Riley to see him like this. But she was already sitting him down on his bed before brining her backpack over. She ducked her head into it and came back up with a white box.

“Let me see your hand, we gotta clean up these cuts.” Riley gave him a small smile as she cleaned up the wound.

“Not that I’m not grateful for this Ri but why do you carry a first-aid kit?” Lucas asked as she dapped his knuckles. Riley gave him a knowing look,

“Luc. You know how clumsy I am, after a while I just stared carrying one around. It’s helpful. Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry for just taking care and” She looked mortified as she realized what she was doing

Lucas cut her off before she continued, “There is no reason to apologize Riley, and I really appreciate it. And I like the take-charge Riley, she’s pretty cool.” He gave her a wink and a nudge enjoying the light blush that coated her cheeks. As she started to wrap his knuckles she gave a sigh,

“Paula hated it when I took charge so I kind of re-learned not to. But I’m working on it…” Riley looked away as she shrugged, she always felt like she had to explain her apologizes to Lucas because he hadn’t known her before Paula and she really hadn’t told him the whole story yet. Lucas knew not to ask he tried to subtly once but she had just shut down and gone cold and he didn’t want to see her like that ever again.

Riley finished wrapping his hand and gave him a smile as she put her first aid kit back in her bag. “So do you want to tell me why you punched the wall?” Riley asked giving him a hopeful look, she loved talking to him and loved learning new things about him. He was quickly becoming her best friend and favorite person to talk to and if she could help him not punch any more walls she would.

Lucas sighed deeply before facing her, “Um. It was a few things. I’m stressed about this group project for Bio 2 and my lab partner was being awful today. Like extra awful she was making some biphobic comments and I just urgh. I did try to correct her biphobic comments but either way she still made them and it made me mad”

Riley gave him a look, “Okay that explains why you were stressed and mad but not why you actually punched the wall.”

Lucas took a deep sigh, “So when I was in middle school I had really bad anger problems. I got into fights constantly half the time just because some dude made a snide comment at me. When I was going into 7th grade my parents put me in therapy and it helped, a lot. I didn’t fight in school as much, but when I was stressed or upset I still took that emotion out with my fists.” Lucas had started play with Riley’s fingers well he told his story and Riley couldn’t help but grin at his gentle touch, “So I kept going therapy and eventually got some coping skills to help with the anger. But its still like at the surface when stuff like this happens and usually I’ll go to the gym and beat the living shit out a punching bag. But I just couldn’t take it anymore. I’m trying not to deal like this but old habits die hard ya know?”

Riley nodded her head, “Yeah I know what you mean. Um when I get overly anxious I don’t really eat. Like I can only hold down toast and like I don’t want to eat anyway. And like I’m trying to be better and Maya knows so she’ll make sure I eat my toast. But like days like today…I’m anxious for no reason and I don’t even want to eat. And just haven’t been able to anyway. So I get the old habits die hard.” She gave him a smile hoping to reassure him that she understood the ‘old habits die hard’ but it slowly disappeared at the look on his face

“You haven’t eaten today? Its like 2 pm Riley.” He pulled up her and brought her to the kitchen still holding her hand as he sat her at the table, “I’m making you some toast and you’re going to eat it.” Lucas told her leaving no room for argument.

Riley tried to keep the fluttering of her heart at bay but she was so touched by the worry of Lucas, she simply gave a quiet okay as he made her toast. Once it was made it cut the two pieces into eight little triangles and sat down next to her. She looked at the toast for a moment and then at Lucas.

Lucas saw her give the toast a look and he sensed her discomfort she had, she was anxious for no reason but he hadn’t done anything to ease that he was too hung up about the fact that she didn’t eat. He wanted to make her smile so he took a piece of the toast and started flying it through the air like an airplane,

“Open wide for the airplane Ri, its needs a landing patch” He smiled at her giggling form as he fed her the toast enjoying the feeling of taking care of her like she had done for him moments before She took over once the first triangle of toast had been eaten slowly and continued to eat the rest at her slow pace.

As she ate in comfortable silence with Lucas a thought popped into her head, “Lucas? Can I tell you something I haven’t told you before?” Lucas gave her a curious look before gesturing for her to go on

Riley took a large breath before subconsciously grabbing his hand hoping for some comfort, “I’m in therapy.” She took a peak at him waiting for this reaction

He just gave her a look, “Okay?”

“I just… I haven’t told you and I wanted to, even before you told me you had been but… I was…never mind it’s dumb”

“No no, Ri. What is it? You can tell me anything” He gave the hand she had placed in his a reassuring squeeze

“Um so I was just wondering if like I could sometimes talk to you after? I try to talk to Maya about it but she’s never been before so she doesn’t get it. But some days are just really hard and…” Riley trailed off worried of Lucas’ response

“Of course Riley, you’re my best friend you can tell me anything. Do mind me asking why you’re in therapy?” A look of fear crossed Riley’s face “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just want to help you in anyway…”

He was cut of by Riley, “Paula.”

“What?” Lucas asked unsure of what she meant

“Paula, she wasn’t…. she wasn’t always the nicest to me. Plus I have some anxiety issues anyway…so after we broke up I started therapy. It helps.” Riley shrugged

“Well Riley whenever you want to tell me what went on with Paula you can okay? I’m here for you.” Riley nodded

“I know Lucas, thank you.” Riley flashed him a smile, “We should probably brainstorm like we were supposed to do. Isn’t it due in an hour or so for class.”

Lucas was about to answer when their phones both went off with emails. Their professor had canceled class because she had a meeting she had forgotten about and needed to prep for. She sent her apologies and hoped it wasn’t an inconvenience to anyone.

The pair high fived, “Awesome! How about this; we do our brainstorming. We’re supposed to figure out 4 topics that our class could write a personal narrative on right?” Lucas asked confirming with Riley when she nodded he continued, “And when we’re done we can just watch a movie or something. It’s obviously been a day for the both of us so why don’t we relax. Its our last class anyway.” Riley agreed and they brainstormed quickly, and then went to decide on a movie.

Riley was looking through their movies, “Oh! 21 Jump Street I love this one! Can we watch this one?” She bounced on her toes a little as the excitement took over Lucas couldn’t held but admire how cute she looked bouncing her brown and purple locks pumping up and down with her.

He chuckled a yes and popped the movie in, as they got comfortable on the couch. Lucas had learned very early on that being friends with Riley meant physical affection and snuggles, not that he was complaining. She quickly put her head on his shoulder and about an hour into the movie he looked over and noticed she was asleep and after admiring her for a few minuets he too drifted off himself.

When he woke up about an hour later he had never more comfortable in his life. Riley had snuggled herself into his side and was still sleeping soundly. Just then Zay had walked into the living room to get something from their fridge, talking at a quiet volume he gave Lucas a look,

“Well don’t you to look mighty cozy” Zay said, “Also good lucky waking with Princess Snuggles over there. Remember we’re all getting diner together in like 2o minuets so you better start” Zay gave Lucas a wink before retreating back to his room.

Lucas spent another minutes watching the peaceful fall of Riley’s chest, she never looked this peaceful awake. She usually looked like something was weighing on her shoulders.

He started by softly saying her name, “Riley, Riley” then using the arm she wasn’t on top of he slowly started to shake her and her eyes started to peel open as she grumbled. Riley hated waking up, it was one of the worst parts of her day especially from an unexpected nap. But waking up snuggled into Lucas side felt nice and being woken up by him wasn’t so bad either.

“Mmmm” she snuggled further into his side completely hiding her face, “I just want to sleep forever don’t make me wake up.” Lucas laughed at her muffled speak

“Hate to break it to you Ri, but you’re already awake.” Lucas smiled down at the brunette who grumbled as she sat up “We gotta go meet the rest of the gang for diner, Zay’s here too.”

Riley started stretching and grabbed her backpack ready to go as they waited for Zay Riley turned back to Lucas, “Thanks for letting me sleep all over you, Paula always yelled at me when I did stuff like that.” Riley gave him a smile

“Well you are quiet cozy so of course and you don’t have to thank me its no big deal.” Lucas stated with a shrug slightly bothered by her statement. Riley started joking with Zay as they walked leaving Lucas to his own thoughts.

He definitely didn’t like this Paula at all, how could anyone yell at Riley she was so kind a nice and pretty. The more he thought about it and the more he thought about Paula the angrier he got, her name sounded really familiar too but he couldn’t place it. But Riley pulled him out of his thoughts and his anger as she pulled him down to sit next to her telling him excitedly about the odd dream she had while they had napped. He smiled softly at her getting lost in her brown eyes.

#rucas fanfic #rucas fic #my writing #the right people

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shrack · 7 years ago

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the coffee kingdom

note: this is my first fic for taz, and its about a small character that needs more love. thats the funheist brand, friends. ill be adding a second part soon, i just wanted to spread it on tumblr as well! coffee shop au that nobody asked for.

Lucas needs money for his experiments. Taako doesn't mean to be the worst customer. [ AO3 mirror ]

If Lucas had a choice, he would spend every day working on his experiments. He's close, the robots he's been tinkering with for so long are coming together, No. 3113 may look scrappy but he's proud of her, his first steps toward making a difference in this garbage world, but...robots cost money.

He debates selling his work, but that goes against everything he's worked for. Goes against the Miller family name. Lucas wants to be able to help, to teach kids things that his mother taught him. Hodge Podge could do that, he knows it, but his supplies have run low (and that might be because he's trying to build so many other things, too).

He begrudgingly gets the job at the uppity coffee shop in the middle of Neverwinter, the 'Help Wanted' sign taunting him every time he would walk past and get himself groceries. It's been a few months, and he's made a few...acquaintances at the shop, but he's not there to make friends. They're nice, his manager is a woman that he would be scared of in any other circumstance--a tall, orc woman named Killian who he goes out of the way to smile at because if he doesn't, he's positive he'll get suplexed through the counter.

"Hey, Luc!" Killian says cheerfully as he walks in the back door, and he flashes his best not-annoyed smile at her as he grabs his apron off its hook. Motherfucking robot couldn't just work, had to blow up in his stupid face; he's just glad that he got his arms over his face before pieces of metal went flying everywhere.

"Rough night?" Lucas grunts in agreement, fixing one of the band-aids on his forearm with a sigh.

"Just your average robo-explosion."

Killian chuckles and pats him on the shoulder, muttering something about that not being normal, but Lucas doesn't pay it any mind. He didn't sleep at all, his eyes hurt from being open for so long, and his head throbs in time with his heart. If he can just get to a coffee machine before--

There's a line before he can even say hi to his coworker. He has to stop the groan that threatens to come out as he's told to start making orders, puts on his best I-don't-want-to-stab-myself face, and starts shouting orders.

By the time he can breathe again, his hands are shaking. Should he sit down or something? He glances at the line, just one person now, and makes himself a black iced coffee to down in record time. When he looks up again, Carey and another guy he hasn't bothered to learn the name of are staring at him like he has four heads, and he just raises an eyebrow back.

"Yes?"

"I don't know if I should be impressed or worried," Carey says on a laugh, looking at the other guy, who nods.

Lucas glances between the dragonborn and the now-empty cup, and back up at Carey as he fills it up a second time and starts to drink it. Carey makes a face and gags, shaking her head.

"Jesus, dude, have you ever slept in your life?"

"Probably."

He's forced into small talk as he starts to clean up the counter, a taller man named Avi coming over and clapping Lucas on the shoulder, telling him that "you drink coffee the way my dad drinks beer!" which he...is not sure how to respond to. But the guy seems nice, smiling too much and sipping out of a hot coffee cup that Lucas can tell is not full of coffee.

Lucas is left alone up front when Avi and Carey head to their breaks (Lucas insisted that he could handle it on his own, rarely did people come in at this time), and he's adjusting one of the bandages around one of his knuckles when someone enters, the bell making him jolt up and put on his best face. Which immediately drops, when the person walking in is clearly not paying attention. He speaks loudly on his phone despite it being right next to his mouth, and Lucas isn't going to let himself get angry. He's had a long morning, he hasn't slept, his hands are shaking, but he's not going to get angry.

He's not going to get angry when the elf says, "Hold on, bubbeleh," to the phone and puts it down, flashing a toothy smile at Lucas. He's not going to get angry when the elf peruses the menu for a solid five minutes and creates the most convoluted, disgusting order known to man. The elf finishes his order with a drawl, and Lucas is about to repeat the order, when he gets cut off.

"I'm confident that you're gonna get it right, my guy. Slap the name T-double-a-k-o on the side and you got yourself a masterpiece."

He's not going to get angry.

Lucas grits his teeth against the sugary stench of the creation he's making, debates why this guy would even get coffee if there's barely any coffee in it, and then. And then.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm back, sorry. Gotta get my dose of sugar and caffeine before I brave you and Barry being gross all day, you know how it is."

Lucas wants to drop the whole fucking drink into the garbage.

"Taako," he says, loudly, staring the elf in the face. He's not paying attention. Awesome!

"Taako!" he tries again, louder, and Taako jumps before turning and taking the drink off the counter.

"Thanks..." he follows Taako's eyes as they look for his nametag, and part of him wants to hide it, "Lucas. Lucas! Thank you."

He slides a gold piece onto the counter and leaves with the concoction in one hand and his phone in the other. His anger has subdued a little, enough to notice how well-dressed this elf is on his way out, and he doesn't know why it makes him feel so bad about his stained jeans and fucked up t-shirt, but it does.

God, he needs to sit.

The next few times Lucas sees Taako, he seems...apologetic. He comes in around the same time, orders a drink that's still disgusting, but Lucas learns that he doesn't really taste it so he likes to switch it up. He always tips well, and after the sixth time (who's counting?) he doesn't move when Lucas slides him his drink.

"Tell me about yourself, Luco."

It catches him off-guard--the nickname, the question--and he realizes he doesn't know how to answer. Has he ever even told anyone...about himself? Killian asked because she interviewed him and he had to, but that was all the standard stuff. He works in his lab alone, he needs money for more parts, and that's about it.

"I...make robots, I guess."

"Wow, your life is real fuckin' interesting, huh," Taako muses, taking a sip of the drink that makes Lucas cringe, and he flashes that toothy smile again.

"I don't know what you're expecting. I work here to make money for my experiments. I have a lab on the outskirts of town. That's pretty much it."

"Woah, slow down, I got lost in the story." Lucas laughs and he realized that...he hasn't done that in a while.

Sure, he chuckles when No.3113 accidentally bumps into the doorframe when she's adjusting to her new modifications, or triumphantly when something doesn't blow up in his face. He busies himself with a machine to hide the fact that he's so surprised by something so mundane.

"What about you then? You have a story that'll blow my mind?" Lucas tries, stumbling over his words only a little bit, and he's interrupted by the door opening and people walking in.

When he gets to look over after the family of four leaves, there's an empty cup on the counter. He's about to get mad, but when he picks it up, there's a phone number and a name scrawled neatly across it. Obviously magically done, but Lucas still looks around for any sign of Taako or Killian before pulling out his phone and punching in the number. Does he wait? Does it seem to eager if he sends a text right then and there? No, he's at work, he should be responsible. But...he wants to talk to Taako. That's a first for him.

Lucas knows a lot, but he doesn't know the first thing about feelings.

Their conversations aren't too in-depth over text, but Lucas looks forward to it. Sure, it slows down his progress on Hodge Podge a lot, but he likes having someone to talk to. No.3113 notices and tries to bug him about it, will make comments when Lucas drops a screwdriver and grabs his phone when it buzzes, and Lucas comes to two more realizations.

He has feelings for Taako. And he feels incredibly lonely.

It's weird to look forward to going into work. He walks in and Killian notices that he's actually eager to go out front, he doesn't take much pushing, and it takes all of two seconds to figure out why.

The door opens, Taako enters, and Lucas visibly perks up. Killian shares a look with Carey, who doesn't hesitate to step in.

"Hey, Taako!" she says cheerily, and Lucas jumps when Killian comes next to him and leans down to whisper in his ear.

"You should go for it."

Lucas yelps and blushes deeply, turning around to look at Killian, who's laughing. "Wh-I don't-what?"

He turns back around only to be met by Taako staring at him incredulously, that stupid toothy grin on his face, and Lucas is pretty sure his face is on fire.

"You good, my man?"

"Great!" he says too quickly, picking up a large cup and a pen, "What can I get for you?"

He misses when Carey and Killian high-five behind him, but he nearly drops the cup a couple times in trying to get Taako's order written out on it.

Lucas can feel Taako watching him as he makes the drink, and he has to make sure his hands are steady as he goes through the steps that he has memorized by now. All the drinks have the same components, just in a different order, and he doesn't mind that this order is particularly long because he doesn't know if he can face Taako after that.

"Um, Tay-ko?" Lucas jokes, pushes his glasses up and pretends to squint to read the name that he doesn't have written, and Taako laughs loudly.

"That was a joke! You made a joke! I'm so proud!" Lucas bites his bottom lip and smiles, sliding the drink over and watching Taako wipe at his eyes dramatically and take it.

"Thanks. First one ever." Taako grins and Lucas heart flips, and suddenly he's blushing as hard as he was a few minutes ago.

"I'd like to take you out sometime," Taako says after a moment, and Lucas gapes at him. This gorgeous, confident elf, taking him on a date? Somebody pinch him.

"Close your mouth, you'll get bugs," he teases and Lucas does, and Taako winks at him, "I'll text you the details, sugar."

"I-uh-y-yeah! That's...awesome!" Nice. Nailed it.

Lucas watches him as he leaves, and he doesn't even notice Carey come up and grab his shoulders. "Holy shit, Luc!"

"Did that just happen?"

Lucas' heart leaps that night, when he's writing notes down in the dim light of his bedroom and his phone buzzes next to him.

call out tomorrow. i have a plan.

Lucas is terrified.

#the adventure zone #taz #taako #lucas miller #taako taaco #im trying to catch on with what the kids tag these nowadays #fanfiction #GOD #my fic

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maydei · 7 years ago

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tagged by @lovelytitania <3

Last–

Drink: macintosh maple hard cider

Phone call: mama

Text message: the biological paternal

Song you listened to: Uso To Honto

Time you cried: oh fuck idk

Have you–

Dated someone twice: no

Kissed someone and regretted it: ye

Been cheated on: ye

Lost someone special: yeh

Been depressed: fuckin always

Gotten drunk and thrown up: i wasn’t drunk yet but tequila is too harsh for my stomach

Made new friends: i should fuckin hope so

Fallen out of love: yeah goddamn

Laughed until you cried: ye

Found out someone was talking about you: LOL YE

Met someone who changed you: yep

Found out who your friends are: fuckin right

Kissed someone from your Facebook list: oh gross no

Kissed a stranger: no

Drank hard liquor: ye

Lost glasses/contact lenses: yes but i found them again

Turned someone down: yep

Sex on the first date: hell nah but i did get drunk and hook up once whoops

Broken someone’s heart: yeah, sorry ‘bout that

Had your heart broken: yes

Been arrested: nah

Cried when someone died: yes

Fallen for a friend: yep

Kissed on the first date: nope

General

List 3 favorite colors: green, blue, gray

How many Facebook friends do you know in real life: all but like three

Do you want to change your name: YES ASAP FUCK MY DEADNAME

What time did you wake up: 7:30am

What were you watching at midnight last night: reading fic

Name something you can’t wait for: Destiny 2

When was the last time you saw your mom: the other day idk

What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: $$$$

What are you listening to right now: The Louvre by Lorde

Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: my gramps and my uncle and my cousin so definitely, ye

Something that is getting on your nerves right now: bleeding

Most visited website: tungle

Mole/s: many thousands of freckles and a few moles

Mark/s: smol scars from surgeries and a bruise-like birthmark on my back and one under my chin shaped like the USA and a freckle on the side of my big toe

Childhood dream: i wanted to time travel and fight people with swords. no lie. i have receipts.

Do you have a crush on someone: who fucking knows i certainly don’t

What do you like about yourself: my eyeballs are ok

Piercings: ears and nose and cartilage. used to have my lip but it fucked my teeth.

Blood type: O Neg

Nickname: Luc

Relationship status: ridin solo

Zodiac: cancer on cusp of leo

Pronouns: they/them but whatever

Favorite TV show: YOI

Tattoos: two

Right or left hand: right, but also fairly ambi

Surgery: appendix, gall bladder, stomach, wisdom teeth

Hair dyed in different color: i’ve had every color but currently growing it out natural

Sport: was a varsity ice hockey goalie, also a swimmer, soccer player, rugby, currently too broken to do any sports

Vacation: europe

Pair of trainers: high tops

Current and all-time best friend name: well my wife best friend is bethany but i got LOTS of best friends including baylen and kim and lots of very close fandom friends <3

Eye color: blu

Favorite movie: idk Star Wars: Return Of The Jedi or Star Trek 2009 probably

Which is better?

Hugs or kisses: hugs

Lips or eyes: eyes

Shorter or taller: taller

Nice arms or stomach: who cares

Sensitive or loud: sensi

Hook up or relationship: all about them ships

Troublemaker or hesitant: what kind of fucking comparison is this they are nothing alike

Do you believe in–

Yourself: sure whatever

Miracles: sometimes but i believe in omens

Love at first sight: infatuation at first sight maybe but love? fuck no love is hard fuckin work

Santa Claus: i believe in jack skellington

#lifeblogging with luc #about #ask games

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feyre-archerons-scrapbook · 8 years ago

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Endless Autumn - Lucien x sweetheart fic chapter 1/6

My interpretation of the story of Lucien and his doomed sweetheart. I hadn’t got my hands on ACOWAR when I started, so this story is not influenced by any new knowledge about Lucien, the Autumn Court, or his lost love. I even named all his unknown bastard brothers...

A massive huge thank you to @pretendthisiswitty / @rhysand-vs-tamlin for being my beta tester again; you’ve been vital to this story developing!

CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6

Find me on AO3

The first time I saw her, I was on a walk through the forest.

The low autumn sun shone brightly through the trees, shards of light piercing through the cool air and warming my skin.

As I walked amongst the weathered barks, the sound of my brothers laughing like fools in the formal gardens mercifully dying down, I stumbled upon her standing beside a reflecting pool. The water was a mirror in which she gazed upon herself, her long dark auburn hair swept over one shoulder, her simple but flattering deep purple dress swaying gently in the breeze.

I took a step out of the trees and stopped. She looked so melancholy, and yet so serene. I moved again, my boot landing on a dry twig. The snap echoed around the clearing, before being swallowed up by the dense forest. My eyes were wide.

Slowly, and unfazed by my presence, she raised her head to look at me, and smiled. Gods above, that smile was like pure unfiltered sunlight. As I gazed at her like a fool, she dropped her head and returned to staring into the water, as if searching for something.

I contemplated turning around and walking back the way I came, but something brave, or perhaps reckless, pushed me forward. I padded round the water’s edge – mindful of the slippery leaves – and halted once more.

I watched as she lifted a hand and brushed her delicate fingers into her hair, pushing it behind her ear and revealing a distinctly pointed lobe. Faerie. Her pale skin shimmered with purple and blue and green tones, like a beautiful pearl. My breath hitched.

“Hello,” she smiled, her focus remaining on the still water, her voice a delicious purr.

“Hello,” I replied, and took another step. “Have you lost something?”

“No.” Her response was short, but kindness filtered through.

I must have pulled a face of confusion, because she raised her head to me again and laughed a soft, delicate laugh. She turned her body to face me fully and clasped her hands together.

I felt that bravery swell again and shove me in the chest. “May I ask your name?”

“Thea.”

I set off walking towards her. “It’s nice to make your acquaintance, Thea,” I said, letting her name roll around in my head, absorbing its beauty, before I released it into the crisp air. I placed a hand on my chest and continued, “I’m Luc-”

“Lucien,” she interrupted, with a nod and another smile. “I know who you are, my lord.”

I pulled another face. “You do?” She nodded again. “How?”

“I am the daughter of the castle fire keeper, my lord. I live in the cottage on the edge of the forest.”

“Oh.” I took a step closer still and pulled my hands behind my back. “Harven is a fine worker, very clean and tidy.” I scowled at my poor attempt at conversation, but she giggled again, the corners of her eyes crinkling, and suddenly I didn’t feel so ridiculous. “Honestly, if it weren’t for him, we’d have all frozen to death by now, of that I’m certain.”

“Your father can create fire out of thin air,” she smirked, “but thank you, my lord, I will pass on your compliments.” She gave a small bow, which I reciprocated, and gazed at me. My heart fluttered, perhaps even skipped a beat.

“You don’t need to call me that, by the way; my lord. I’m not the kind of male who requires others to stand on ceremony.”

“While your brothers, on the other hand…” She raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“Yes. I wish I could say the same for them but…” I sighed and stopped a few feet from her, “Alas, they are great champions of tradition.”

“Is that what you’re calling it?”

I chuckled. She was sharp as a pin; those emerald eyes and soft, full, very kissable lips merely a lovely façade for her fierce intellect. “Besides, I’m not a lord.”

She frowned, “But you’re an heir to the Court.”

“Yes, but technically speaking, my father is the High Lord; and then Eris, Aristide -” I counted on my fingers, “- Terrell, Corentin, Drago, and Magnus come before me. So at best, I’m seventh heir to the title.” I leaned towards her slightly and grinned, “So please, just call me Lucien.”

“All right then.” Her eyes fell back to the water, which from this side reflected the towering gold and red flecked trees. “Lucien.” She whispered my name to herself, and goose bumps rose on my flesh.

She released a sigh of contemplation and smoothed the skirt of her dress. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. In that moment I wondered what her childhood was like, what she dreamed about…who she loved.

A chill fluttered through the forest, making her shiver. I immediately began unbuttoning the gold thread adorned tan jacket that I’d worn to practice my sword skills that morning.

“No, that’s not necessary,” she smiled, placing her hand over mine and halting me in my task. I felt a surge of energy, of emotion pass between us. I’d never felt anything so powerful and exhilarating. She must’ve felt it too, because her deep green eyes widened. She opened her mouth to speak again, but remembered where her hand was and swiftly removed it.

“I didn’t mean to be presumptuous, Thea,” I gulped out, like I had forgotten how to speak.

“I should get back to the castle,” she smiled hesitantly, “My father will be starting his afternoon rounds, and he needs my help to carry the kindling.”

“Very well,” I nodded, “I should return to my own duties, too, I suppose.”

“What exactly do you do, Lucien?” she asked. The way she said my name was so intoxicating, I didn’t think I’d ever tire of hearing it.

I huffed out a sigh and shoved my hands into my pockets, “Good question. The High Lord usually sends me on a pointless errand of some kind; to collect taxes, or some minor trade discussion. But nothing too demanding for the runt of the litter.” I winked at her, but only to disguise the knot in my stomach at saying the words out loud. I had no official place in this court, I knew that. The past few decades had been spent almost entirely in the bedrooms of the most beautiful High Fae females.

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as that.” Thea said a moment later, as if reading my thoughts.

“Care to wager?”

She dropped her head and released a breath. “Perhaps next time.”

I arched an eyebrow, “Next…time?” I was such a stuttering fool; no one would ever have thought I’d spoken to a female before.

She nibbled her bottom lip, holding back a grin at my apparent naivety, and flicked her eyes in the direction I came from. “I’d wager we will speak again, Lucien; seventh in line to the Autumn Court.” She winked, and didn’t wait for my stammering, flustered face to calm down before she bid me good day and walked away.

I watched her hips sway gently as she trundled through the leaves, whipping them up with her dress as it skimmed the ground. She lifted a hand up to pull her beautiful thick hair over one shoulder again, drawing my attention to the sweeping curve of her neck.

I knew immediately that she would be my unravelling.

I spent the next few days wandering around the castle in search of Thea, hoping to glimpse her just for a moment. I could’ve winnowed, but the walk gave me time to think about what on earth I might say to her. Keep it casual, or charming, or perhaps a little of both?

The castle was vast; a pale stone structure with courtyards and many towers, that jutted out of the earth and high above the tree line with confidence - arrogance, even. It seemed very fitting for my father. I guess for me too.

I had grown up in this castle, yet it still left me in awe at its sheer scale, at its luxuries and its bravado. The Autumn Court had always been one of the wealthiest, steeped in tradition – sometimes almost crumbling under the weight of it – and ruled by show-offs.

Each hallway I roamed was ten feet wide, with a highly polished oak floor and an ornate red carpet running down the middle. Elaborate candelabras of peryton antlers stood on polished golden legs at either side, in-between imposing oil paintings of my ancestors.

There were so many rooms to search in; dining, living, bathing, music, galleries, and bedrooms in abundance – perfect for inter-court functions where the High Lord liked to boast that he could accommodate everyone.

Continuing my search one morning, I climbed yet another sweeping staircase, casting my eyes over every fireplace in every room, down every servant staircase I came across, until I heard the faint sound of logs being thrown into a basket. I spun around, and my shoulders sank. The sound was coming from the High Lord’s bedroom. The only room I’d ignored.

I headed over to the open double doors – solid oak and very heavy – and peered inside. There she was, kneeling before the hearth with her back to me, transferring silver birch logs from a wheeled cart into a large basket beside the fireplace.

She wore a brown cotton dress with a delicate spotted pattern running through it, and an apron over that, tied in a bow at the back. Her hair was braided and pulled over the same shoulder as last time, and as I stepped into the room and leaned against the door, I wondered if that was done on purpose, or by instinct.

What other little quirks did she have? My heart surged at the thought of finding out.

She began laying kindling on a pile of logs in the grate. “Are you going to talk to me, seventh in line to the Autumn Court, or just stare at my behind for the next hour?” she asked. Even with her back to me, I could tell she was smirking as she said it.

“You know,” I said, sucking in air through my teeth, “That’s a very difficult choice to make.”

“Very funny, Lucien,” she replied, and sat upright on her knees. She glanced over her shoulder at me, those green eyes lowered slightly, and tipped her head to beckon me over.

Without a word, I pushed off the door and meandered towards her, taking in the room as I went. I could probably count on one hand the number of times I’d set foot in here.

Its amber-hued walls depicted scenes of Autumn Court battle triumphs in vivid, gory detail, and I often wondered how anyone could sleep surrounded by it. My mother hated it too, and her own suite of rooms couldn’t have been more different; warm peach tones and gold accents. I’d spent countless hours in that room as an infant.

I stopped at one side of the fireplace – large enough for me to stand inside – and looked down on her. She placed her hands on her hips and surveyed her work. “Is this the first one of the day?”

“Yes,” she nodded, and rocked back on her ankles, bringing herself effortlessly to her feet. “Only another fifty-nine to go.”

“By yourself?” I winced. It looked like very hard work.

“No, father is doing half. He gets the south wing today.” She brushed her hands on her clean apron and smiled, “I think he’s hoping to run into your mother; she always takes the time to talk to him.”

I smiled. “That doesn’t surprise me at all.”

She pulled a long match out of a pocket in the front of her apron and struck it against the stone mantel. She crouched down and lit the fire, blowing the new-born flame gently until it burst into vibrant orange life.

“It’s strange isn’t it,” I pondered, “In the castle of a High Lord who can manipulate fire, that we still light these things with a match.”

“Don’t complain,” she said, rising to her feet again. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have a job, and we never would’ve met.” She smiled at me and dropped her eyes, gazing back up at me through long eyelashes. “And wouldn’t that have been a shame.”

“Indeed it would.” My hands tingled, and I felt a pull of something strong, something I could not resist, that moved me closer to her. She didn’t step away. In fact, she seemed to plant her feet solidly on the floor, and stared right into my eyes. Those deep green irises shone like the most precious jewels, and I knew it was a rare privilege to get to see them so close. My next words came in a soft whisper, “How come I’d never laid eyes on you until a few days ago? Where have you been hiding?”

“Aside from the fact that until recently you spent hardly any time in this court?” She chewed her bottom lip, pondering the words. “I grew up in the cottage with father, and spent many years running around the forest…”

“You did?” I frowned.

She gave a single nod and continued, “But I was a very shy child, always afraid to make friends. I would hear you and your brothers playing and I would hide behind a tree trunk a safe distance away, watching you firing arrows at each other amongst the trees, kicking up dry leaves.” She sighed. “I wanted to say hello so desperately, and I was going to one day when I saw you alone - because your brothers frightened me - but then I…” She stuttered a breath, her eyes glazing with tears, and clamped her lips shut.

“You…what?” I asked. That force that had pulled me toward her tugged sharply, and I moved closer until we were sharing air. “Thea?” I whispered, lifting my hand to sweep a stand of hair away from her face. She didn’t flinch, didn’t move at all. I tucked it behind her ear and I felt her lean into me, ever so slightly. My breath hitched. “What happened?”

She shook her head as if waking from a dream, and stepped back just a little. “Never mind.” She adjusted her hair and loosened her shoulders. “Anyway, to answer your original question; I spent a lot of time working in the village nearby, until father asked for my help here.” She released a shaky breath and stared at me. I stared back, and we memorised each other’s faces. She pulled her gaze away from me first, over my shoulder, and hurriedly said, “And then we met. The end.”

“Oh, okay,” I nodded, and watched as she gathered up her things at lightning pace and loaded them into the cart.

“I err, have a busy day ahead, Lucien.” She said my name with barely a whisper, “So I will bid you good day and get back to my work.”

“Thea, wait…” I frowned at her rapid speech, at her fumbling, and spun around as she flew past in a blur, dragging the squeaking cart behind her.

There in the doorway stood our housekeeper and the reason for her hurried exit; Gagnon. I sucked in a breath, puffing out my chest as Thea rushed past him with a faint nod of acknowledgement and disappeared down the hall.

“Gagnon, my good man,” I lied. He was anything but. Old enough to have served 3 high lords of the Autumn Court, the portly faerie stood a foot smaller than me in his suited uniform, his short white hair wispy around his pointed ears. His orange-hued face was set in a permanent scowl, the teeth which he bared to me in a low growl slightly yellowed. He’d always hated me, and vice versa. My father, meanwhile, revered him. “Did you want something?” I asked, clasping my hands behind my back and sauntering towards him, towards the doorway and my exit from this horrible room.

“That boy from the Spring Court is here, my under-lord.” I almost snorted at that title. Obsessed with protocol. “He’s waiting for you in the great hall.”

“Excellent,” I said, keeping my voice as light and airy as possible. His face showed nothing but contempt. “I won’t keep you, then. I’ll escort myself.”

“That’s not how it’s supposed to work,” Gagnon sneered.

“Well seen as I’m so lacking in decorum, it’s a good job I’m at the back of the line, isn’t it?” I winked at him and went to pat him on the shoulder.

He grabbed my wrist and pulled it towards him with surprising strength for such an old fae. “Keep away from that girl, under-lord,” he growled.

I yanked my hand away and glared at him, “I have no idea what you’re referring to, old man.”

“Better for me to see than my High Lord.”

“Always hoping for trouble, Gagnon, that’s your problem.” I waved him off with a look that could set him on fire, and stepped around him into the hallway, “And by the way, that boy is now the High Lord of the Spring Court, so you will address him as such. You know how much my father demands respect for his peers.”

“That boy is no peer to the High Lord I serve,” Gagnon grumbled behind me as I walked away, but I ignored him.

I strained my ears to listen for the cart, but silence was all that greeted me. She was probably in the next room – my father’s private living room – but I thought it best to leave her to it. The look she’d given me when she was about to say something she shouldn’t…it was burned into my mind.

I dawdled for a moment, waiting for Gagnon to reappear, but he never came out. I rolled my eyes in annoyance at his meddling, but my stomach twisted in knots as I winnowed out of the hallway.

“Tamlin, my friend,” I beamed, opening my arms wide as I re-appeared in the great hall. The vaulted ceiling allowed my voice to echo the length of the room.

The High Lord of the Spring Court sat proudly in my father’s plush green velvet armchair by another enormous fireplace, one leg balancing on the other, and running his hands along the wide curved arms. His blonde hair was luminous, his pale green attire delicately stitched with spring flowers and birds, outlined in exquisite gold thread. He looked every inch the High Lord.

“Lucien,” he said with a weak smile and pushed up out of the chair. We met in the middle of the room and embraced. “I’ve missed you. How have you been?”

I patted him on the back and we parted. “Well, very well. And how is the Spring Court at this time of year?” I winked.

“Insufferably pleasant.” His words – though humorous – felt slightly empty, and we stared at each other for a good few moments before he laughed and I felt comfortable enough to join in.

It had been a long time since Tamlin and I had laughed, or even spent any time together at all, with him just having become the High Lord. The animosity between the Spring and Night Courts had come to a violent head, and with Autumn stuck in between, father had demanded we keep out of it, going as far as to stop me seeing my best friend. I still didn’t know for certain what had happened that led to his father’s death, and Tamlin wasn’t yet ready to tell me. One day he would though, I was certain.

When the laughter eventually died down, I moved over to one of the imposing full-height windows that looked out over the treetops. A sea of oranges, browns and golds greeted me, shifting in waves as the crisp autumn winds blew. “Everything’s changing, Tam.”

“I know,” my friend replied behind me, “And I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.”

I sighed, “Some things are certainly getting better.” I turned back to him and smiled.

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow, and moved to stand beside me, “In what way, may I ask?”

My eyes darted all around the room. There were many people in this castle who would benefit from listening to my conversations; my father, any of my brothers, even Gagnon… I dropped my head and whispered, “Not here.”

Tamlin immediately patted me on the shoulder and said, “Let’s get out of here, get some clean air into our lungs. I’ll spare you my beast form today, we’ll take the horses instead. What do you say?”

I nodded, and we winnowed to the stables.

The air was crisp as ever, the leaves softly crunching under hooves as we strolled through the grounds of the castle. My chestnut brown horse almost disappeared against the autumnal backdrop, whilst Tamlin’s black stallion dazzled in the morning sunshine.

“So…what’s her name?” he asked softly.

“Thea,” I said, trying and failing to hold back a wide grin.

“Gift of god,” Tamlin said under his breath, taking it in. He bobbed his head sideways in approval and returned my smile. “A human name.”

“Indeed, but she’s fae.”

“High fae?”

I shook my head, “She’s Harven’s daughter.”

Tamlin’s horse came to a shuddering halt as he yanked on the reins. “Harven? The fire keeper?” I nodded again. “Lucien.”

“I know; you don’t have to say it,” I whispered, turning my horse back round to face him. My eyes darted all over the forest, at every shadow, every tree trunk. My fae ears twitched, listening for eavesdroppers. My breath shuddered through my chest. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

“But what will Beron say when he finds out you’re falling for a servant girl?” My friend said those last two words with such fear? Surprise? Disgust? I couldn’t tell.

My stomach felt like lead. “I don’t care what he thinks. There’s something about her that’s just…enchanting.”

“Oh for goodness sake,” Tamlin growled, a faint rumble of his beast voice causing a flock of birds in a nearby tree to take flight. “You’re the son of a High Lord, Lucien, you have to think about how this would look.”

“How what would look, Tam?” I squared my shoulders, as my horse stepped left and right. I pulled on the leather reins and steadied him. “I don’t even know if anything is happening, so I’ve not thought that far ahead,” I huffed, “And besides, I’m seventh heir of this godsdamned place, so I’m sure father can stomach me continuing to be the family disappointment in the background!”

“You’re giving your father entirely too much credit,” he scoffed, and rolled his eyes. “Fifth, sixth, or seventh in line; it doesn’t matter one bit to a male like your father.”

I frowned and sat up straighter, “Why are you not supporting me? Why is my best friend being so flippant about something as important as this?”

Tamlin’s face snapped back to mine. His eyes glazed over immediately. “Because I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes.

He swallowed a lump in his throat. “Find yourself a High Fae, Lucien -”

“Why, just so I can please my father?” I scoffed.

He ignored me and continued, in an infuriatingly calm voice, “There are many beautiful ones.” His eyes followed me as I pulled a face and continued looking around for spies. “The Dawn and Winter Courts have a number of females you’d like.”

I scoffed, “Cauldron, boil me! Have you picked one for yourself, then?”

His throat bobbed.

“This isn’t a meat market, Tam!”

“I know that.”

“Then why are you trying to force one upon me?” I scowled, throwing an arm out wide.

“You never had a problem acquiring other females before, Lucien.”

“I like Thea, and that’s that!”

“Fine.” Tamlin shrugged. “Tell me more about her. How long have you known her?”

“What?”

“How long?”

“A few days -”

“Days?” He ran his fingers through his hair and looked up at the canopy of golden leaves that shaded us. “By the Cauldron, you’re a child.”

“Excuse me?” I snarled.

“Just…” He sighed and dropped his head against his chest. He silently ordered his horse to move towards me and came to a stop beside me. His eyes had softened, his shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry, old friend, I didn’t mean that. Just please be careful.”

“Learn from your mistakes?” I asked.

Tamlin nodded and a small part of me sank. He wasn’t suggesting anything I hadn’t already thought about myself, but it still felt like an ash arrow to my heart.

I shrugged, “Well, like I said; we’ve only known each other a few days, and it might not turn into anything…but I’ll keep your suggestion in mind.”

“Good,” he said with a weak smile. He patted my shoulder and looked away, “I am happy for you, though, if you think you’ve found someone, Lucien. Please know that. I’m just looking out for you, that’s all.”

“I know,” I bobbed my head in acknowledgement, “And I know it won’t be easy, but I want to try. I have to.”

Tamlin stayed with us for a few weeks, and I wondered if part of the reason was because he wasn’t ready to face his responsibilities as High Lord. He spent many hours with my father discussing Court politics; the Night Court and its swaggering new High Lord came up frequently.

I was grateful for my friends presence for many reasons, but particularly as it allowed me precious respite from being watched all the time; two High Lords under one roof meant the servants were constantly busy - especially Gagnon – so I was left alone. I took the opportunity to see Thea as much as possible.

One night, she found me in the library at midnight, and we sat discussing books until the sun began to peak from behind the surrounding hills, filling the room with a hazy shade of orange; it made her look even more beautiful, if that were possible.

We spent time by the lake again on another day, in the exact same spot where we had had our first conversation, and, just like that first encounter, she spent a lot of the time gazing into the glistening pool, as if looking for something.

“What did you lose?” I teased, prodding her arm.

“Nothing,” she laughed, and lifted her eyes to mine. “I don’t own a mirror, that’s all.”

I pulled a face in mock surprise as she grinned, and said, “Well in that case, carry on. Your hair is quite a mess.” I tucked a loose strand behind her ear and ruffled her hair.

She gasped, swatted my hand away, and pounded my arm with surprising strength, but the giggles that followed were infectious, resonating around the clearing. I couldn’t stop myself from joining in with her laughter, savouring the moment of pure joy.

“You really are beautiful, Thea,” I said through my glee. Her pearlescent cheeks blushed.

She bit her lower lip. “I think I’m falling, Lucien,” she whispered, and brushed her fine fingertips up my palm. I felt a shiver dash up my spine. No other words were necessary.

A week later, we arranged to meet in the wood store in one of the grey stone courtyards. Light rain fell from the cloudy sky, coating everything I passed with a fine mist of moisture that sparkled in the intermittent sunshine.

I arrived first, and, headed inside the large stone room, piled high with silver birch logs, scuttles of coal, and baskets of kindling. I closed the door and leaned against a small window, beside a wide flat-topped trunk that must’ve been used as a chopping block. The air smelled fresh and blended with the soft pitter-patter of the raindrops on the slate roof, soothing my anxious body and mind as I waited for her.

A fair few minutes passed before I heard the cart squeak on its approach to the store, and I found myself holding my breath as the door opened. Silhouetted in the doorway, she paused, her hand grasping the door handle. She wore a deep red cloak with a hood that completely obscured her face. She stepped inside, and leaned against the door, clicking it closed.

Without saying a word, she lowered the hood and gazed at me. Her hair was pinned up, displaying the sweeping curve of her long neck, the sharp point of her faerie ears. My breath was completely stolen. “Hello, Lucien,” she breathed, and dropped her gaze to the floor before flicking those vivid green eyes back to me.

“Hello, Thea.” I inched towards her. “Look at us both, getting caught here in the rain.”

“Such terrible weather,” she tutted, arching a sculpted brow, “Shame on it.”

“Indeed.”

“All these jobs to do, all these tasks to accomplish, and yet we’re trapped here…alone.” Her eyes danced.

I almost burst into flames.

She sloped her head to one side and smirked, “What are you thinking?”

I couldn’t speak. I felt powerless before her. I covered the space between us and pressed one hand against the door, right beside her head. Her eyes flicked up to me as I looked down at her, our breathing coming in gasps. I could feel sharp pulses of energy flowing between us.

“Are you going to kiss me, Lucien?” she asked. The way she said it made me realise she was not being coy, despite her teasing, she was nervous.

A hint of a smile pulled at the corner of my mouth as I whispered, “Would you like me to?”

She blinked slowly, her long auburn eyelashes suddenly damp with emotion. Her breath stuttered, and she pressed herself against the door. “I think I would, yes.”

“Are you sure?” I said, tipping my head slightly took catch her focus. “We’ve only known each other a short while, and I don’t want you to feel like I’m rushing -”

Thea reached out and grabbed my tunic. Her eyes flashed with mischief before she pulled me towards her, but despite her assertive display, we didn’t crash together. My lips landed on hers with an immediate tenderness, my free hand instinctively slipping under the cloak and around her waist, tugging her close.

Her fingertips brushed against my cheeks, and pushed up into my hair, as she opened her mouth to mine, her body trembling as a soft moan escaped. We shared the same air, the same space in this world, and in that moment, I felt more alive, more wanted than I had ever in my life before. Thea was all I could feel, taste, and - even with my eyes closed – all I could see.

My fingers curled in the soft fabric of her dress, pulling her ever closer. I didn’t want to let go, didn’t want to let the moment end. I could feel her heart pounding against mine, and committed the rhythm to memory; that’s what I did to her, how I made her feel. It was euphoric.

Her breath shuddered in my mouth, and a tear fell from her cheek onto mine. We began to part, but in one final display of need her hands grasped my hair, then my shoulders, and finally my hands as she rested her forehead against mine.

We stood in silence for a minute, catching our breaths as the rain fell heavier outside. “I guess that’s it,” she said, eventually, “No going back now.”

#Sam scrapbooks #lucien #autumn court #fan fiction #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #sarah j maas #my writing #tamlin #endless autumn

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apartments4rent · 8 years ago

Text

The Letter

so i had a twitter poll back in february to write a “fic” for valentines day starring a pair that yall got to choose!! and lucwill won!!! so here it is haha it got kinda long, i hope u guys like it :^)

Lucas had a quiet life.

Keyword: Had.

He used to go to bed at 6am every day, wake up at about 6pm, head to work at 10pm, and come back in time go back to sleep. To some, this sounds pretty boring; and to be honest, sometimes it was. But Lucas liked it that way, it was routine. Familiar.

Now. Now, things were much different.

Ever since that scruffy-looking, hot headed, motorcycling kid came into his life.

They met in the mini mart.

Lucas was used to seeing a lot of strangers. He worked at the only gas station near the highway for miles. They would come in, usually use the bathroom, buy their stuff, and leave. There were a few regulars from in town that Luc would see; only a couple of night owls here and there.

One chilly November night, he came in. A cute kid - couldn't be older than 20; shaggy, dirty blonde hair and freckles. He grabbed a chocolate protein shake and three bags of almonds, then promptly left after asking for the time: half past eleven.

Luc was intrigued, but thought nothing more of it. After all, Luc was used to meeting strangers all the time.

But he came in again the next night. Same thing: a chocolate protein shake and three bags of almonds.

“D’ya have the time?”

Then, gone.

Again and again, night after night.

Till one day, he didn't show up at all. A couple nights passed with no sign of the handsome stranger and Luc figured that was all they would be seeing of each other. But, after the fourth night, Freckles came in again, as usual, as if nothing happened.

And this became their routine; almost every night, they would see each other, until they wouldn't, again and again.

After too long, Luc needed to know just what was going on.

He didn’t know this would lead to opening up his home to the kid. It's not like you know him that well, he laid awake that night, thinking, how could you be so stupid, there's no way this is gonna end well.

Lucas always was the worst worry wart.

Turns out, things would go wrong, but not in the was he was anticipating.

No, it was much, much worse.

Things were still quiet in the beginning, it was awkward for them both; two virtual strangers, now living under one roof. They mostly kept to themselves, each not wanting to bother the other.

Then they started to open up to each other, started to learn new things about each other. They found out they had such good chemistry and a lot in common, too.

Soon they became almost inseparable. Will would make Luc get out more, actually explore things around the neighborhood; “You've been in this town for six years and you never once been to the boardwalk amusement park?” Luc would show Will all the things he loved doing indoors, introducing him to new tv shows, movies and videogames; “What do you mean you've never even heard of Majora’s Mask? It’s a classic!”

When they first met, Lucas knew he felt some type of way about Will; some way that interested, if not frustrated, him. Getting to know Will; the real Will, his flaws, his hopes, his dreams; it made Lucas realize exactly what that way really was.

And it terrified him.

A crush.

Lucas had a crush on Will.

As a few months passed, Lucas hoped the feelings would wither; if he pushed past them long enough, they'd go away, right?

Alas, it was not the case. Surprisingly, spending more time with someone who has your heart in the palm of their hand will not make you like them any less. Who knew.

“Sounds like you've got it baaaaad,” Ollie, ever the realist, was doing their best to comfort Luc in these trying times.

Luc let out a groan of agony and forcefully rested his head on Amber’s dinner table, “I don't know what to do, man. This is really getting out of hand.”

“Why don't you tell Will? Y’know, since it kinda concerns him too?”

This snapped Luc back upright in his seat, “Excuse me? Are you nuts? I can't just… tell him!” Luc was baffled at the thought, almost speechless. “We’re…” Luc searched for the right word, and couldn’t come up with anything better than, “We’re bros. And roommates! It would only make things... weird. Plus, Will isn't the best when it comes to romantic advances.”

Ollie blinked and furrowed their brow.

Luc sighed, “He's dense. And just plain uninterested in romance. Which is understandable, seeing how utterly bad this feels right now…” Another groan and he was back on the table, face buried in his arms.

After a moment of silence, Amber, who’s apartment the two were borrowing for this impromptu therapy session, returned from running a few errands.

“Hey, Amber,” Lucas said, muffled through his arms and the table.

“Oh,” she said, “Lucas, how lovely of you to stop by. What’s got you resting on my table like that?”

Just as Lucas was about to excuse himself from her apartment, not ready to share the truth behind this visit, Ollie blurted out, “Lucas finally admitted he has a crush on Will.”

“Ollie!” Luc shot out of his seat. He was beyond offended that Ollie would betray his trust so easily.

Amber seemed to ignore Luc’s protest, “Oh, that's beautiful Luc! You two make a lovely couple.” She sighed dreamily, “It's been so long since I've seen sweet love blossom!”

“Ew,” Ollie said.

“Please don't say things like that,” Luc crossed his arms, “this isn't a good thing. These feelings need to stop.”

“What? Why?”

Luc groaned again and turned away from Amber, ��You don't understand, it's not simple ‘sweet love,’” he collapsed onto her couch, “it's complicated.”

Amber paused for a moment, thinking. She walked over to the couch and sat down next to Lucas. “Sweet love is rarely so simple.” She stroked his hair reassuringly, “Wanna tell me about it?”

Lucas hated to admit it but, if anyone would be able to help him out, it'd be Amber. He sat up, ready to tell her everything. And it was everything. He didn't know what it was about her that made him spill his guts; maybe it was the physical contact or maybe it was the Trustworthy Mom Voice.

Whatever it was, after about 30 minutes she was all caught up, and then some.

A long thoughtful pause after a solemn nod made Luc a bit worried.

“Want some tea?” Amber offered.

Tea did sound good right about now. Luc nodded, surprisingly exhausted after pouring out his heart twice in one day.

She got up and hurried into her kitchen. Opal, Amber’s cat, rubbed up against Luc and looked up at him. Luc smiled. The cat hopped up and curled into his lap. They say stroking a cat has its health benefits. Luc wondered if it included mental health.

Amber returned with two warm mugs of tea, “You wanna know what I think?” she continued without waiting for an answer, “I think you should tell him.”

Luc’s heart sunk. He could think of a million and one reasons why that was a horrible idea. How could she think that was a good solution?

“Now, now,” Amber could read the betrayal all over his face, “Let me finish.” She sat down.“I think you should tell him, but I understand the trepidation. ‘You could ruin what you already have,’ I get it, it's all too much. But you need to let this go somehow and a confession is the most effective way to do so,” she paused, expectantly.

A lot of things were going through his mind but absolutely none of them made sense. Amber hung her head in exasperation, as if it was his fault he couldn't read her mind.

“Write him a letter!” she said, as if it were obvious.

Luc cocked his head.

“Confess to him in a letter, address it to him, just don't give it to him! You know how helpful it is to write your feelings; you will definitely feel better after writing a love letter,” she said so matter-of-factly.

“Sounds kinda dumb,” Ollie voiced Luc’s opinion from across the room.

Amber scowled, “I wouldn't expect you to understand.” She turned to Luc with a hopeful look, “At least try it? You never know what might happen.”

Her smile was so warm and genuine, Luc almost felt better about the whole situation.

Almost.

Luc left the apartment feeling better, but only marginally. He slowly shuffled to his apartment, only feeling more confused than before. So many things were still swimming in his mind.

I guess writing them down couldn't hurt…

When he got to his apartment, he opened up his laptop and stared at the blank word document for what seemed an eternity.

Maybe I should do it freehand?

He shoved his computer off his lap went to hunt for one of his many notebooks.

Dear Will…

He chewed the cap of his pen. What was he supposed to say? “Hey bro, I think I love you?” That was way too heavy handed, and he didn't even know if that was true.

It was gonna be long night.

Luc decided, since Will wasn't going to read this anyway, he could say whatever he wanted. Once he got past that barrier, it was actually a lot easier to write. No inhibitions, not holds barred, just his feelings and the paper.

It was a stream of consciousness of sorts; he just wrote what he was thinking, even if it didn't make sense.

And he did feel better. A lot better.

He quickly scanned over the whole two pages, front and back.

Wow, I've got a lot of issues.

He ripped the papers out of the notebook and folded them up. He wasn't really sure he had an envelope in his house.

I'll just hide it somewhere, it'll be fine.

Indeed it had been a long night and, luckily, he wasn't scheduled to work either. Absolutely exhausted, Luc decided to crash early and quickly drifted off to sleep.

The letter helped Lucas organize and understand his feelings but, as months passed, those feelings all but faded. One could argue they only grew stronger.

Valentine's Day was right around the corner and it got him thinking about some… things.

One particularly chilly night, on a whim, Luc Googled, “how to confess to your best friend”. For absolutely no reason at all. He went through almost every article on the first page of results. He almost went to the second page but no, he wasn't that desperate.

The thought of confessing still wracked him to his core, but the thought of living his whole life keeping these feelings in agonized him even more.

I’m going to to do it, he decided.

I'm gonna tell him.

“You're really gonna do it?” Ollie sounded particularly enthused by the idea.

“Yeah, I am,” I hope.

“Oh, Luc, I'm so proud of you,” Amber was beaming. “I guarantee you’ll only feel better after you do.”

Luc wasn’t sure he actually believed that, but it’s what he kept telling himself.

“The only problem is… how should I do it?”

“On Valentine's Day, of course!”

“Yeah, but… how?”

“Hold up a boombox playing his favorite song outside his room window,” Ollie suggested.

“I don’t have a boombox,” Luc laughed, ”and I don’t think it’ll have the same effect if I use a Bluetooth speaker.”

“Meet him at the airport and confess just before his plane leaves.”

“What? Why is he at an airport? Where’s he going?”

“Oh! A confession in the rain is always romantic! Everything’s all wet...”

“Don’t listen to them, they’ve been watching too many romcoms with Opal,” Amber said, “You could send a bouquet of flowers with chocolates and a sweet note.”

“That’s too- wait,” Luc interrupted, “Note…”

Amber seemed to get the idea at the same time. “The letter,” They said in unison.

“Thanks for the support, guys!” Luc was out of that apartment faster than you could say, “Lucas and Will, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

He had put the letter in the safest place he could think of in his room. Someone would have to be VERY lucky to find it. Shoved between two random books in his bookshelf, it took even Luc a good while to find it.

Reading over the letter, in its entirety, surprised Luc. I wrote this? It was so honest and so deep, this came from my mind?

No, this won't work, he decided, this is way too much to lay on Will all at once. Plus, it barely makes sense, even to me.

He felt the room’s temperature drop.

“What’cha doin’?” Ollie said in an oddly sing-song voice.

“I'm going to rewrite the letter,” Luc said, looking for another piece of paper.

“Why? I thought it was pretty good…”

“You what?”

“I liked it?”

“You read it!?”

“Yeah…”

“What!? But I- How? Wh-” Luc groaned and pulled at his face.

Why am I even surprised, at this point?

“Ok, Ollie,” Luc took a deep breath, “Please don't read my personal writings from now on, okay?”

Ollie crossed their arms, “Alright…”

“Now, could you please leave? I don’t want you breathing over my shoulder while I rewrite this private letter.”

“Fine…”

Lucas turned away from the ghost and the room’s temperature went back to normal.

Oh, boy. Here we go.

It took quite a few tries to get it right; several crumpled up pieces of paper lay strewn about his room. He managed to get everything on only one piece of paper, now that he knew exactly what he wanted to say.

Luc scavenged for a proper envelope and slipped it in, putting it back between a couple of books along with the original letter. Maybe he’d want to look back at it one day and laugh.

Now we wait.

With only about a week until Valentine's Day, Luc had plenty of time to worry about whether this really was a good idea or not. Several times he contemplated throwing out the letter; if he gave up, there would be no chance of it going terribly wrong.

No, you have to. You can't keep ignoring your feelings. You have to do something about it!

So the letter survived till Valentine's Day, a Tuesday. Will was working at the garage till the late afternoon.

All day Luc hyped himself up and contemplated all the good things that could come out of this experience while simultaneously pushing away all that bad things he would think of.

Will would be home any minute. It was time to put the letter on his bed. Luc walked right into the room; Will hardly left his door closed anymore.

Oh God, here we go. He could feel his palms get sweaty; they were almost shaking, too. He gently put the letter on the pillow, as if an alarm would go off if he made too much noise.

Deep breath.

He couldn't get out of that room fast enough.

Minutes passed, though it felt like hours. Luc was starting to get worried; he was pacing in his bedroom and Will still hadn’t gotten home. Was he always this late? Luc could have sworn he had always come in just before 3:30pm and it was already 3:50pm.

Just then, he heard the gentle click of the door unlocking. Lucas emerged from his doorway to greet his roommate.

“Hey,” Luc said softly.

Will whipped around to look at Luc, “Oh, hey! You're awake?”

“Couldn't sleep,” he shrugged. This whole ordeal kept him up all morning. “How was work?”

Will gave a sympathetic smile then rolled his eyes, remembering his day in the garage, “Oh my god, you wouldn't believe the morning I've had.”

Luc laughed to himself and followed Will as he made his way around the apartment, venting about his day and going about his afternoon ritual. Luc got more nervous every time Will got close to his room; he did a number of fakeouts before he finally went in. He was still really into what he was talking about, so he didn't immediately notice the letter.

Wait, thought Luc, what am I gonna do when he finds the letter? Oh my god, why didn't I think of that? I can't just stand there while he reads it; that would be so embarrassing. Oh god, oh, oh n-

“What's this?” Will held up the letter.

Shit.

Luc didn't know what else to do, so he ran.

Ran to the only place he knew he could go. “Lucas?” Amber opened the door after an urgent barrage of knocks. “Aren't you supposed to be with Will?”

“I panicked!”

“You gave him the letter, right?” She opened the door wider to let him in.

“Yeah, he has it, I just didn't know what to do after that… I panicked! So I came here.”

“Now Lucas, how are you supposed to see his reaction to your beautiful, heartfelt words if you’re not down there with him?”

“Oh! He can use your crystal ball!” Ollie appeared suddenly, surprising both.

Amber scowled at the ghost.

“You have a crystal ball? For real?” Luc almost lit up at the idea.

Amber sighed, “I wouldn't call it that but yes.”

“You gotta let me spy on Will.”

Amber bit her lip, clearly uncomfortable do the idea, “Well…”

“Come on,” Luc was exasperated and desperate, “What else do you use it for, if not to spy?”

Amber huffed, “Fine! I don't condone this ridiculousness, but fine.” She went to go get the crystal ball from a very secret place-

“Underneath the sink? Why would you keep it there?”

She just shushed him and placed what looked to be a simple hat box on the coffee table. The three sat on the couch and gathered around as she pulled a dazzling crystal ball out of the box. Amber whispered some stuff under her breath and closed her eyes as a faint image of Will reading the letter on his bed started to appear.

“Oh my god, it's working!” Luc started to hop up and down on the couch, then moved in closer for a better look.

Will was just sitting there, reading the letter very intently. He was looking all over the paper, even going back and forth between the pages.

Pages.

Lucas cocked his head to the side.

“Is that… two sheets of paper?”

The other two moved in closer, too.

“Oh my god.” Luc whispered, eyes very wide.

“What's the problem?” Amber asked, looking between the crystal and Luc.

“Oh my god,” he said again, standing up.

“Lucas.”

“That's the letter.”

“Luc?”

“The first letter I wrote! The original? I rewrote it because it didn't make sense, it was too rambly, it was so… so much!”

He started to pace, thinking, biting his already short nails.

“Lucas, it's okay.” This was not going to end well.

“I rewrote it, I am sure I did! It was only one page, I know it was. How could it have- I wouldn't have- Oh, god. He's gonna laugh.” Luc couldn’t keep it in; it was like word vomit. Everything was just coming out again and he was powerless to stop it.

“Now, Luc, please listen,” Amber wanted desperately to soothe Luc’s nerves but she knew it would be futile; nothing she could say would help. Luc’s nightmare scenario came true and there was no bringing this boy back from that reality.

“No, worse! He's gonna tell everyone about it and get the whole town to laugh. He'll leave town and tell his home town friends about his dorky, desperate roommate that was madly in love with him. God, I'm such a joke.”

“Luc…” Amber’s heart was breaking for the poor kid; he was reacting so badly to this turn of events. She could relate. Sometimes screw-ups like this really did feel like the end of the world.

“I can never show my face around him again. Maybe I should leave town.”

“Alright, Luc!” Amber grabbed her panicking house guest by the shoulders, holding him squarely in place, “That’s enough. Lucas, you have to think clearly. You know none of that is true. None of it. Will isn’t like that, he would never,” she sighed and gave him a hug. “You can go lay down in my room, ok? Clear your head.”

So Lucas did just that. In fact, he may have even took a nap - he had been up for almost 20 hours already.

After a little less than two hours, Amber came in to check on him.

“How’re you feeling, dear?”

Luc’s moan was muffled by a pillow.

Amber sighed and sat down on her bed. “You should give him a chance.”

He curled into himself more.

“Really, you should.” She paused, clearly withholding information. “You know you left you phone out in the living room?” She held out his phone so he could clearly read it.

5 missed calls.

3 texts.

Hey where are u

Hello?

Meet me in the garden before 6 pls

Luc sat up in bed and clutched his phone, reading the messages over and over. He looked up at Amber, worry written all over his face.

She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently. “It's almost six.”

Lucas didn't want to go.

But his feet were taking him downstairs already.

Every fiber in Lucas’s being was telling him this was a bad idea, that this was bound to end poorly.

But he kept going.

He stood in front of the doors that led to the garden for hours, days even, or maybe it was only a few seconds.

Deep breath.

When you count to 10, you'll open this door.

He closed his eyes.

With a hand on the door handle ready to turn, a sudden force pushed to door open seemingly out of nowhere.

“Lucas,” a surprised yet relieved voice said, a voice that Luc never got tired of hearing. The way that voice said his name made almost every fear and anxiety melted away.

“Will,” Luc had to force the words out of his mouth; he felt breathless.

They spoke at the same time.

“I was beginning to worry you weren't gonna-”

“I'm really sorry I didn't come sooner, things just-”

They laughed.

“We can,” Luc gestured, “go back outside, if you want…”

Will smiled.

Amber laughed, all alone in her bedroom. Lucas had left so fast, it was hard to believe he was moping in here just a few minutes ago. He was worrying so much about what he thought would happen, he couldn’t let himself think about what actually would happen.

Or what did happen to bring them to this point.

Amber sighed.

Ollie.

She stepped out of her room to see the guilty spirit, still looking into the crystal ball.

She cleared her throat and put her hands on her hips, “Well?”

Ollie sunk further into the crystal ball, clearly invested in what they were looking at and not at all trying to avoid the gaze of the angry witch standing above them.

“Ollie, I know you were they one who switched Lucas’s letter.”

“You have no proof!” The ghost sat up defensively.

“Oh, come on, who else could it have been? No one but Lucas had any reason to be in his room, let alone know where those letters were.” Ollie was about to defend themself but Amber didn't let them, “Hold on, hmm… who do I know that can access any room in this building that they so please?”

“Listen, sister. He made it so easy! He didn't even seal the envelope the letter was in! How could I resist?”

“Ollie, we've been over this. You can't meddle in other people's business. It's rude! And contrary to your belief, you don't always know what's best for everyone.”

“Come on,” Ollie gestured to the crystal ball, still focused on Will, who was now talking to Luc in the garden, “look at how well this turned out.”

Amber sighed. Anyone could see that this was exactly what Luc needed - a push out of his comfort zone.

“That might be true, but my point still stands. You really freaked him out. I'm 89% sure he was having a panic attack.”

Ollie knew she was being serious but they couldn't help laughing a little. Luc was really freaked out.

“It's not funny, Ollie. He was really heartbroken.”

“Nothing happened.”

“Ollie.”

Amber’s voice reached a tone Ollie always hated hearing.

“Alright, I get it,” they got up from the couch, “I won't do it again. Jeez.”

“Ollie, please. I know you haven't been alive in a long time, so you may have forgotten what it's like to have feelings, but you have to be more sensitive to how you actions can hurt others.”

“Ouch,” they placed a hand over their chest, “I'm pretty sure you just hurt my feelings.”

Amber sighed a deep sigh. It was going to take a while to get through to this one, she could feel it.

“Hey, look what's going on in the garden!”

“So what I guess I’m trying to say is…” Will looked especially nervous, which was surprising as he had gone through this whole conversation pretty smoothly otherwise, “Marv gave me this extra ticket to, uh, the Valentine's boardwalk fair? Did’ya wanna go with me?”

Lucas’s head was running a mile a minute at that moment. After all, he had just heard that his roommate, and crush, had been harboring the same sort of feelings for him. For almost as long as he did!

Will said he didn't know what to make of those feeling because he had never really given much thought to anything related to romance ever, so he just brushed them aside. But, because of Luc's silly little love letter, Will knew he wasn't alone; that these feeling were real and valid, that he didn’t need to hide them anymore, that they could figure things out together.

And now, they were going out.

On a date.

With each other.

Before Luc knew what he was doing, before he could stop himself, he tackled Will in the tightest hug. The force of the hug made Will spin with the momentum to avoid toppling over.

It was a warm hug; a good hug, a hug with promise.

It was the beginning of something beautiful.

Will pulled out of the hug and grasped Luc's hand tightly. He pulled Luc forward and started running towards the beach boardwalk.

They were both still very unsure about what hey had just done, but didn’t regret a single thing. Because, as long as they had each other, they knew they were gonna be alright.

#writes #camacho speaks #valentines 2k17 #luc #will #ollie #amber

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