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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

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Seven Drinks

Bucky x f!reader

Summary: There's a reason Y/N has never had more than 3 drinks around the other avengers, and they're about to find out.

Warnings: depression, thoughts of suicide, panic attacks, angst (don't worry there's fluff too)

Word Count: 4322

a/n: This is inspired by that episode of Brooklyn 99 with 6 drink Amy (I adopted that concept!) and also Halsey's album Manic. :) I hope you like it. Anything in bold is a lyric from one of the songs on the album!

Please let me know if I messed up the trigger warning tags! I've never written anything like this before, so I just want to make sure I do it right.

Masterlist

"We're having a party tonight." Tony's announcement was met with the usual groans of annoyance at having to schmooze with the typical socialites that attended Tony's party. "You know, you are so ungrateful sometimes. here I am trying to throw you a party, and you're complaining!"

"Tony, we all appreciate the effort you go to, but- at least speaking for me- I don't like people." Y/N's response was effortless, swiftly calming Tony and explaining the reactions.

"That is why-" Tony stuttered when he actually registered the words you said. "That doesn't sound like you at all. And besides, this is a party for just us. It'll be more like team building, but without any pre-planned activities. No "smarmy, rich people" to deal with." He directed his last sentence at Bucky, Steve, and Sam.

The team actually seemed excited at the prospect, albeit skeptical of Tony's motivations.

Unsurprisingly, Nat worked up the courage to question him on it first, "what's the catch?"

"No catch. Just friends, food, and lots of alcohol." His grin quickly shifted into a smirk as the entire room turned to look at you.

You groaned slightly, not wanting all the attention. "Look, there is a reason I cap myself at 3 drinks." Holding up one finger, you started to explain, "One drink Y/N is barely any different from my sober self."

Wanda quickly cut you off, "not true! You get louder." She smirked, happy to have added that tidbit of information.

"Fine." With a laugh, you admitted she was right. "I might get the tiniest bit louder." You held up a second finger to continue your explanation, but were once again cut off.

"It's not a bad thing. It's just your happy, bubbly, and slightly louder than normal personality shining through!" Nat added, seeing an opportunity to tease you for being so positive all the time.

"Thanks Nat. Anyway," emphasizing the rudeness of being interrupted twice, you continued, "two drink Y/N is more touchy feely than normal. Not in a creepy way though!"

"I love two drink Y/N. She gives the best hugs!" Thor eagerly added to the conversation, glad to have dropped by when he did.

"Thanks Thor." With a small smile in his direction, you held up a third finger. "Three drink Y/N is the perfect amount of just past tipsy to have fun without doing anything extremely embarrassing. It makes the most sense to stop there." You finished her little speech with your typical smile and a resolute nod of your head.

"Seriously, you need to relax. Just let loose this one time!" Sam tried to encourage you. With the eyes of nearly every avenger set on you, your resolve didn't last very long.

"Fine! Maybe I'll have a fourth drink." You were met with cheers as you rose from your spot on the couch, trying to prepare for the night that was to come.

As soon as you stepped off the elevator, you had a drink in your hand. Clearly your friends were going to make sure you got a fourth drink. even Steve seemed excited when he saw you, although his golden boy personality didn't disappear completely.

"You sure about this? I don't want you to feel pressured!" Bucky nodded, weirdly enthusiastically, before adding, "Yeah doll, don't drink more than you want to."

"You two are too sweet. Sam's right, but don't tell him I said that." You winked at the two super soldiers, emphasizing the joke. "I should let myself relax sometimes. I'm in a safe place, with friends who won't let anything happen to me. What could a few more drinks really do?" You couldn't help but smile at how true that was. You were surrounded by people who care about you.

"Oh, so now it's a few more drinks? What are we talking here, six drink Y/N? Seven?" Bucky teased.

"You'll have to wait and see, Ducky." You teased right back, knowing how flustered he got at the pet name. Steve laughed at his friend as you walked away, ready for your second drink.

Before long, you had your fourth drink in your hand. It was slightly odd how literally everyone was staring at you, but your were three drink Y/N at the time, so you were drunk enough not to care.

You downed the fourth drink, unprepared for the consequences.

"So, Y/N... how do you feel?" Clint braved the waters, everyone eagerly awaiting your reaction.

"That is so nice of you to ask! I feel great! I don't think I've ever been this happy." You jumped up and down, hugging Clint with a huge smile on your face.

"How did you get even happier?" Tony chuckled, shaking his head slightly.

"Do you not like it?" Like a switch had been flipped, you were nearly crying.

"What?! No!" Tony was so taken aback at the tears pooling in your eyes, he froze, unsure how to fix it. He looked around the room for help, but everyone else was just as shocked as him.

"I'll fix it!" You were at the bar, fixing another drink before anyone fully comprehended your mood swing.

You walked back up to the group, sipping from your fifth drink as if nothing happened. "What?" You questioned the odd looks, but before receiving an answer you squealed, again jumping up and down. "Let's dance!" You turned around, ready to move to the more open area before looking back over your shoulder, "Wanda! Nat! Pepper! Come on!"

The women shared a look, ultimately shrugging before joining you on the makeshift dance floor.

"Bucky, you've been staring at her for 20 straight minutes. When are you finally gonna talk to her?" Steve couldn't help but pester him about his feelings.

"I can't help it. I've never seen her dance so much. I mean, I know she's always happy, but this is a whole new level." He didn't take his eyes off of you, even when he was responding. "I can't tell her tonight, though. This is the most she's had to drink in years."

He watched as you moved back over to the bar, needing another drink after dancing so much.

"Here we go, six drink Y/N." Bucky gestured to the bar. Steve shook his head, but allowed the change of topic.

About five minutes after your sixth drink, you were somehow bounding around with even more energy. You were nearly running around the room, trying to talk to everyone at once.

"Ducky! Have I ever told you I took gymnastics lessons for 7 years when I was younger?" You were bouncing with pent up energy, excited to be sharing more information about yourself.

"No, you've actually never mentioned that." He smiled, enraptured by your childlike enthusiasm, so enraptured that he didn't notice the mischief in your eyes.

"Well, I did! Watch this." You handed a confused Bucky your now empty glass, turning and throwing your arms up. Bucky realized two late what was happening, and with both yours and his glasses in his hands, he couldn't physically stop you.

"Y/N, wait!" His shout had everyone turn and look as you flawlessly executed two cartwheels in a row.

Bucky would swear your smile got even bigger as you turned around to look at him again.

"Normally I can do more, but" you hiccuped, then lowered your voice to a really terrible whisper, "I'm a little drunk." You leaned into him, laughing as if you just told a joke.

Wanda walked up to you with a seventh drink, hoping seven drink Y/N had a little less energy, but happy to see you having so much fun. "Here ya go! One more of your favorites, just like you asked."

"Thank youuuuuu!" You shifted to hug Wanda, leaving Bucky to miss your added warmth.

You sipped your seventh drink slower than the rest, quickly running out of energy. Sliding the empty glass across the bar, you slipped out of the party unnoticed, making your way to the kitchen for some pickles- your favorite drunk food.

Your seventh drink hit you just after you opened the pickles. Gone was the happy, bubbly persona you showed the world. The mask slipped away, leaving you alone to contemplate your life choices.

You made your way to to the lounge just outside of the kitchen, choosing to lay on the floor behind the couch and stare out of the large floor to ceiling windows.

"Where's Y/N?" Bucky glanced around the room, an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

"Huh? Oh, she said she wanted a snack." A very drunk Wanda turned to look at where the food was set up, scrunching her face in confusion when she couldn't find you. "Weird. Maybe she went to the bathroom?"

Bucky, having noticed your absence 8 minutes ago, didn't think you left for a bathroom break. "Maybe." Plus, you always took the girls to the bathroom with you. His eyes flitted about the room, taking one more glance before deciding to go look for you.

He decided to head for the kitchen since Wanda said you wanted a snack. He laughed at the open jar of pickles, knowing you at least passed through this room. He put the pickles away before popping his head into the lounge area.

"Y/N?" He called out, figuring this was the most likely location for you to end up.

You hummed in response, not moving from your spot on the floor. Bucky walked further into the room, slightly confused as to why he could hear you but not see you. That is, until he realized you were laying on the floor behind the couch.

"Why are you on the floor?" He smiled when he found you.

"I'm just looking at the sky." Your voice held a melancholy air as it floated through the room. Bucky's smile faltered, not used to hearing you sad. In the three years he's known you, he's only ever seen you sad because of a movie or tv show. Otherwise, you were quite literally always happy.

"Why-" he faltered, unsure how to check on you. "Is everything okay?" he nearly choked the words out, feeling slightly stressed at your sudden gloominess.

"Yeah." You took a deep breath, slowly letting it out in a deep sigh. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just... I don't know." You sigh again, still looking at the sky.

Bucky chances another question, wanting to get you talking since you're acting so off. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel... so sorry." You words were so soft that Bucky could barely hear them.

"Sorry?" He tried to hide his confusion, matching your soft tone as he sat down a few feet away from you. "About what doll?"

"Just... because I feel so sad." Tears pooled in your eyes, but you didn't stop staring at the sky.

"What are you sad about?" It's taking everything in him for Bucky not to hold you right now. He doesn't want to make you even more upset, especially because he's never seen you like this.

"No one around me knows who I am..." He watched as a tear rolled down your cheek, shining in the light from the moon.

Bucky moves closer, just close enough for him to reach out and hold your hand. You squeeze it, instant relief flooding through him that he hasn't crossed any boundaries.

He goes to speak, but you cut him off. "I'm not breaking. I won't take it. And I won't ever feel this way again." Your voice is harder, as if your angry with yourself.

"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay to have feelings. You're allowed to feel like this. Don't push it away. Talk to me. Why don't you think anyone knows who you are? We're all here for you, Y/N." He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand, trying to convey how serious he is.

You let out a dry laugh, wiping the the tears from your cheek. "My self preservation..." Bucky can tell there's more to, choosing to wait for you to continue. "All of my reservations..." You sigh again, sitting up, you scoot closer until you can lean your forehead against his shoulder. "I bottle it up. I'm my own biggest enemy." You let out another dry laugh, shaking your head without moving it from its resting place on Bucky's shoulder.

Bucky wraps his arm around you and leans his cheek against your head. "Take your time. You can talk to me." He whispered, trying to keep you talking without getting mad at yourself again.

"Well, I'd like to tell you that my sky is not blue, it's violent rain." The sounds of your sniffles break his heart. "I just pretend everything's fine because that's what I had to do when I was younger." Rather then interrupting, Bucky continues to rub small circles on your hand and your back, encouraging you to continue when you're ready. "Can I tell you a story? I... I think it'll help explain some of it."

"Of course. Anything you need, doll." He curses himself for the pet name, not wanting you to think he's joking. He just can't help it when it comes to you.

"Thank you, ducky." You chuckle, but your words are just as sincere as his. "You know I have two sisters, and I love them with all my heart, but sometimes growing up with them was hard. My older sister, she put so much pressure on herself to succeed. And, she did. She was so good at everything she did, that I felt like I had to be just as perfect.

With my younger sister, it was like it was effortless. She put just as much, if not more pressure on herself. but, she could do anything she tried to, with almost no learning curve. I always felt this crazy amount of pressure to be just as good.

My parents, they didn't really help with that. I mean, they were so supportive and I'm so grateful to them, but it was a lot of pressure. The summer between my junior and senior year of college, I wanted to get an internship. Ya know, to get some experience. It would set me up better for getting a job after graduation.

I spent months looking and applying, but nothing was working out. So, I went home for the summer. My mom would come home everyday and ask me if I got a job yet.

I spent nearly every waking hour looking for a job, even just a part time one for the summer. So one day, when we sat down for dinner and she asked if I got a job yet..."

Bucky could feel how tense you were telling this story, but he knew you needed to get it out.

"I told her, 'no, not yet' and she just seemed so disappointed. She asked if I was even applying and I snapped.

I yelled at her, something that had never really happened before. I told her I was trying. I was doing everything I could. She yelled at me for yelling and said it wasn't unreasonable to ask for updates.

I yelled right back. I kept saying I spend all day everyday trying and just when I finally get a break, she walks in and brings it all up again. I was stressed enough without her constant reminders.

I ended up running away from the table, in tears. I hid in the bathroom, there... there was a pair of scissors on the counter and I really thought about killing myself that day."

The tears are pouring out of you at this point. Bucky threw caution to the wind. He picked you up, maneuvering you to sit across his lap and lean your head on his chest. He kept rubbing circles into your back, murmuring words of encouragement.

"My younger sister tried to check on me, but I wouldn't open the door. My mom stomped down the hallway to her bedroom. I was full on having a panic attack in the hallway bathroom. I think I stayed in there for an hour before I went back to the dinner table.

My dad was in the kitchen. He put my plate in the microwave to heat up dinner for me. I ate through near constant tears, it only got worse every time he tried to ask me what happened. Why I snapped like that.

I wanted to apologize to my mom for yelling, so after I ate I went to her room. I knocked, and when she told me to come in I opened the door. I just remember her looking so angry.

I apologized. I told her I was sorry for yelling. She said something about not being unreasonable again. I cried again. When she asked what was wrong, I told her I was scared.

I couldn't put it into words though, so when she asked me 'of what?' I just shrugged. Then, she asked me if I was on my period.

God. I wanted to scream. I wanted to yell at her again, To make her understand 'I only wanna die some days. But if I decide to break, who will fill the empty space?' I decided that day that I would never try to tell anyone how I actually felt."

Bucky holds you as you cry. You're not sure how long it's been when you can finally breathe enough to talk again.

"I just, so many people have bigger problems then me. I grew up in a loving household. I went to college and made friends. I got a job after I graduated. So why am I so sad sometimes? I just wanna scream but what’s the use? At night, I lay awake and I stare at the door, I just can’t take it no more."

Bucky continues comforting you when he speaks again. "Just because other people have problems, doesn't mean yours are irrelevant. You are 100% allowed to feel however you feel, even if it seems like there's no reason for it. Have you ever thought about talking to someone about all of this? I know you just said you haven't told anyone how you actually feel for years, but I think it could help." He smiled nervously when you raised your head to look at him.

"I have actually. I joked about it a lot with my roommate right out of college. I always used to say 'everybody needs therapy' as a joke. Of course, I meant it. Most people probably do need therapy." You laughed, moving your arms around Bucky's neck to hug him. "Thank you for listening to me. I like talking to you."

Of course, Bucky noticed your smile didn't reach your eyes. He was confident in his words when he spoke again. "You can always talk to me. I'll always be there to listen." He followed that with a less confident "What's been bothering you today?"

"Oh, nothing that serious. It's just all pent up inside, ya know?" You smiled again, hiding your face so he couldn't see your lies.

Of course, he could still hear it in your voice. "Y/N, you can tell me. I want to be here for you."

"I... It's just, my insecurities are hurting me." You laughed at yourself. "Here we go with the fucking riddles, again. On the plus side, I think I've cried so much I'm back to one drink Y/N."

"Well, it has been 3 hours since I left to come find you." You were grateful for Bucky's joke, needing something to lift the mood a bit. "But, don't try and change the subject. I still want to know what's got you all sad." His words were light, but you knew how serious he was.

You took a deep breath, burying your head in his neck. "How could somebody ever love me?" You spoke into his shirt, not moving your head back even an inch.

"You know I can't understand you when you talk into my neck like that." Bucky tried joking, but even he knew it would do little to calm your fears.

You moved back, lips still grazing his skin when you repeated yourself, "how could somebody ever love me?"

Bucky wanted to scream. He wanted to tell you how much he loves you. He would gladly spend every day of his life loving you, but he didn't think this was the right time. Not when you just poured your heart out to him. So he settled for the almost truth.

"Anyone would be lucky to love you. You are selfless. You put everyone else first, no matter what. You always make sure everyone has a reason to smile, even when things aren't going right. You tell the best jokes. You're great at cuddling." He squeezes you closer to him, emphasizing the point. "You are beautiful, inside and out. Everyone who comes into contact with you automatically has a better day. You are incredibly strong and independent. I've never met anyone so incredibly good. Even Steve. Anyone would be lucky to be loved by you."

His words brought more tears to your eyes, pooling in the corners. "Then how come everyone that I’ve dated says they hate it cause they don’t know what to do with me? I feel broken."

"They were all idiots. You're not broken. Not even a little bit. You're learning how to express your feelings. You just need someone who would take it slow." He pressed a kiss to your forehead, struggling not to tell you everything.

"I wonder if you’d take it slow." Your eyes go wide when that slips out. You hadn't meant to make things uncomfortable. One look at Bucky's face has you freaking out. He looks stunned. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to say that. It just slipped out! Oh god, you've been there for me all night and I go and fuck it up by admitting I'm in love with you."

Your eyes grow even larger. You would move out of his lap, but his arms are still holding you in place. "Shit! Maybe I'm still drunk because apparently I have no filter." You say the last part more to yourself, but he can still hear you.

"Y/N?" Your name comes out of his mouth in a soft whisper.

"Yes?" You cringe internally at messing everything up.

"I would take it slow." He smiles, leaning his forehead against yours while he waits for you to absorb his words.

"Yeah?" You whisper back, a smile ghosting your lips.

"Yeah." You both lean in, exchanging soft, slow kisses and sleepy smiles.

The two of you ended up falling asleep leaning against the back of the couch. The sun streaming through the windows, combined with the noise of the other avengers in the kitchen, wakes you up.

You nudge Bucky, grinning when he pulls you closer.

"C'mon. Let's get some breakfast." He groans again, but eventually stands up.

The two of you walk into the nearly full kitchen, surprising everyone by coming from the lounge rather than the elevators. They share amused expressions, unaware of the emotional hurdles you jumped last night.

You head right for Sam, hugging him tightly before moving on to hug everyone else.

"I just wanted to thank you all. For encouraging me to live a little last night, but also for being there for me." Tears spring to your eyes again, shocking everyone but Bucky. "You're all like a family to me and I'm so glad I have you all to lean on." You made your way back to Bucky, leaning into his side while he poured both of you some cereal.

You smile when you look at him, kissing his cheek before sliding into the stool next to his.

As if broken out of a day dream, Sam sputters out a question. "What the hell did seven drink Y/N do last night?" Thrown off both by your behaviour with Bucky and the short emotional speech.

"Oh, seven drink Y/N is an emotional little bitch. I think I cried eight years of suppressed tears." You laughed, grinning at Bucky when he squeezed your hand. "Also, I think I need a therapist." Your casual admission has Tony spitting out his breakfast.

"What the hell happened last night after you disappeared from the party?" He guffaws, trying to put the pieces together.

"Also, why aren't you even a little bit hungover?" Nat chimed in, upset at missing out on seeing you anything but cheery.

"Well, to answer Nat first, I don't get hungover. Never have, even the one time I blackout out." You shrugged at everyone's slightly jealous expressions. "To answer Tony, I had an emotional breakthrough. Bucky helped me talk through it, something I never thought I'd be able to do. Long story short, i'm going to learn how to share my feelings instead of suppressing them all."

"Suppressing them? What are you talking about? I've literally never felt anything but happiness from you before?" Wanda questioned the new development.

"Well, that's because I'm really good at hiding how I feel. I'd rather not go through it all again, so just watch the security footage from the lounge last night, yeah? I want you all to know, even if it took seven drink Y/N to share it." You quickly finished eating, pulling Bucky to the doorway.

"While you do that, we're going out. Bye!" Before they could question anything else, you ran to the elevator, dragging a very willing Bucky behind you.

"We're going out?" He questioned when the elevator doors shut.

"Yep. Get dressed, I want to see all your favorite places in New York. Even if they're different now. Take me to all your favorite spots." You both smiled, sharing another soft kiss before parting to change for the day.

"Hey," Bucky called, causing you to turn over your shoulder, "I love you."

"I love you too."

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes one shot #tw: suicide #tw: depression #tw: panic attack

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hangovercurse · 3 years

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Nerd Love

After years of working together, Pete still manages to break you.

Request: “Hi! Can I get a Pete imagine where you guys work on SNL together and you have few skits together and during one of them you can’t stop laughing”

Pete Davidson x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

Word Count: 2237

“Live from New York, it’s Saturday night!” You hear Kate and the host of the week announce before Lorne motions that the cameras had cut for commercial break. You and Pete had a sketch together in exactly 12 minutes and 45 seconds, and you were trying to cool your nerves.

You loved your job, writing on SNL was something you had dreamed of since you were in middle school, and now it was your reality. Of course, it was hard, the hours were long and the work was demanding. But having Pete by your side made it all bearable.

You had met on your first day, getting hired one season after him. You two were deemed the “babies” of the cast because you were the youngest, so naturally you got paired up. A lot.

At first it bothered you that you only really ever worked with one person, but after your first few episodes you grew to love Pete. Your energies matched so well, and whenever you wrote together you easily built of each other.

After 6 years of working on the show together, you had become really close friends. You were with him through all of his hard times, and you were one of the few people he let visit him in rehab. In return, he stuck by your side through everything, even when the internet tried to cancel you for an interview that was taken completely out of context.

You couldn’t pinpoint when, but at some point, you had developed real feelings for him. Obviously, you’d never tell him, not wanting to mess up your amazing friendship. But they still flourished, especially when you would be up until 6 am writing sketches and goofing around in the writer’s room. Of course, the comments from fans didn’t help your feelings either. They loved you guys. Anytime you posted Pete on your social media, they were all over it.

But you guys had denied the dating rumors countless times since they’d started 5 years ago. Even though having to hear the words “we’re just friends” over and over killed you.

You were lost in thought when Pete came up behind you, hands grabbing your shoulders and shaking you slightly. “Ready bookworm?” He asked, moving to stand next to you.

“Only if you are, Mr. jock-man.” You laughed, rolling your eyes.

The sketch you and Pete had written was a young couple on a really fancy date to celebrate their 6-month anniversary. Your character was going on the date with Kyle Mooney’s character. Both of you were the stereotypical nerd couple with glasses, suspenders, and everything else. Pete was playing your waiter, who obviously did not give a shit about his job. He was the stereotypical jock character. Your character was super attracted to him and kept paying attention to him. He loved the attention and would do things like show you his (reaaaallllyyy) lame tattoos, tell you about sports, and everything that nerds don’t like. Kyle obviously didn’t like that and kept trying to get your attention in the weirdest of ways.

It was pretty funny in rehearsals, almost too funny. Seeing Pete act so out of character was hilarious to you and having to overdramatically flirt with him felt ridiculous. You barely made it through in rehearsals without laughing, so you had to hope you could do it on stage.

“Y/N, Pete, and Kyle. You’re up.” The stagehand told you, and you grabbed Kyle’s hand, walking to the stage.

The sketch started and you were doing okay. You and Kyle had your conversation about your anniversary and your favorite Star Wars movies. But then Pete walked onto the stage in his ridiculous waiter getup. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the top and wrinkled, his black pants hanging low on his hips, and his apron only half tied. You bit your tongue to keep yourself together.

“Welcome to White Oyster, what do you want?” He said in a very bored voice. You acted interested, eyes raking up and down him. You felt ridiculous and had to swallow a laugh.

Kyle pushed his glasses up on his nose, “me and my girlfriend are here for our six-month anniversary, so we would like the couple’s special.” His nerd voice was incredible.

“Okay. Anything else?” Pete’s voice remained monotone.

You bit your lip, “do you recommend anything else?” You asked, trying to sound nerd-sexy.

You could see Pete struggling to contain a smile. “I mean, whatever. Food here is shitty anyways.”

Kyle’s mouth gaped, “can you not speak like that around my girlfriend, please?”

The sketch continued with you making flirty remarks towards Pete, him being very bored and unaware, and Kyle trying to direct your attention. After your second attempt at flirting with him, you could feel yourself breaking down.

“So, I was wondering. Do you have any tattoos?” You asked him, your elbow on the table, twirling a piece of your hair in your finger.

Pete nodded, pulling up his shirt to show the big MOM tattoo on his side that was drawn on earlier. You felt a giggle slip out, completely out of character.

You tried to cover it up and continue, “wow, you really must love your mom, huh?” Another chuckle leaving your mouth, “that’s kinda hot.”

Kyle looked at you with wide eyes, “Linda!” He screamed the name of your character

Pete shrugged, “Nah, I did it myself. It says WOW, like world of warcraft.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell out of your mouth, and one followed from Pete. This was a disaster. You tried to regain your composure, knowing Kyle was probably really frustrated right now. “I just think tattoos are so cool. You don’t have any, do you Darren?” You asked Kyle’s character, eyes narrowing at him. You heard a chuckle from Pete beside you and you bit your cheek.

Kyle faked looking flustered, “N-no. But I have all 7 of the Harry Potter books and 4 collectors wands.”

Pete nodded, “Oh cool, I have a Harry Potter tattoo.” He pulled up his arm to show his real tattoo.

Your eyes went wide, “Wow. That’s way cooler.” You batted your eyes up at Pete, making him break even more. Watching his face go red and his mouth lifting up with laughter made you squeeze your eyes to hide your laughter.

“But babe!” Kyle was starting to break now too. “You love my Harry Potter stuff!”

“It’s cool, I guess.”

The sketch continued with you and Pete laughing anytime you looked at each other, your energies feeding into one another. You both tried really hard to keep it together, but something about flirting with Pete made you so giddy inside that you couldn’t help it.

Eventually the scene ended and the lights went down. You knew the cameras probably caught an extra few seconds after the close of the sketch, meaning they caught you and Pete breaking down into fits of laughter.

You somehow made it offstage, faces red. “We’re so gonna get fired.” He said through giggles.

“I’m so sorry,” You started, trying to take breaths through your laughs. “I don’t know why I couldn’t hold it together.”

“You looked ridiculous.” Pete laughed, pointing at your glasses.

After the show you made your way back to your dressing room, changing into your day clothes and getting ready to leave. You finally checked your phone, which had been off the duration of the show.

Your twitter feed was filled with clips of you and Pete laughing through the sketch.

They’re so cute together #goals

Love their friendship

Get you someone who looks at you like Pete looks at Y/N

Poor Kyle ☹

The way they can’t get through a skit because they’re too in love

And they say they aren’t dating…

Can’t believe the unprofessionalism

Pete and Y/N are dating… no one can convince me otherwise

The flirting!!! The looks!!!

I would like Pete and Y/N to get married and adopt me please

Your heart melted at all the comments, a sigh leaving your mouth. You watched the video and noticed the way he looked at you anytime you broke character, it was the same way you looked at him all the time.

You shook your head, convincing yourself you were imagining it. You couldn’t afford to think like that, it would ruin your friendship.

A knock at your door pulled you out of your thoughts, “Y/N, wanna go grab a drink with me?” It was Pete.

“You can come in.” You called, and he did so. “I don’t know, I was thinking I might just go home. I’m pretty tired.” You really just wanted to go home and sort through your feelings for the umpteenth time that month.

He nodded, watching as you tossed various items in your bag, “you were great tonight.”

You giggled, “Pete I barely made it through our sketch, it was a disaster.”

He rolled his eyes, walking over to where you were at your vanity. “I messed up too, but it was fine. No one noticed.”

You leaned into the mirror, fixing your makeup slightly. Pete was very close to you, watching you through said mirror. “Trust me, Petey. Everyone noticed.” You laughed, standing up straight again.

Your back was inches from his chest, and you could suddenly feel a different sort of tension in the air. But you didn’t make any move to shift away from him. He gave you a quizzical look through the mirror and you took out your phone, turning to him.

You took in a breath at the proximity. You weren’t close enough to kiss or anything, but his chest was only a few inches away from you. You shook away the thoughts you were having and opened your twitter, letting him scroll through the tweets. He chuckled and shook his head as he read them, eventually handing you your phone back.

“People really like us together.” He said, smiling.

You rolled your eyes, “They have for the past like, 6 years, Petey. We’re funny.” You smiled moving to turn back to grab your bag, but his hand grabbed your hip and made you stay facing him.

Your mind went blank at his touch, trying to figure out if this was real or if you were just really really tired. “That’s not what I meant.” He said, quieter.

You laughed, looking away from his eyes, not really knowing what to say. “I mean, people have always thought… stuff like that.” You mumbled, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

Pete’s eyes were searching your face, taking in every detail. “Have you ever thought about, like, why people think we’re…” He trailed off, but you knew what he was implying.

You blushed, looking down at your toes. “I mean, I guess we’re together a lot and we get on well. People just like to make assumptions, I guess.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure it doesn’t help that I can never keep my eyes off of you, even when the cameras are rolling.” He said, a chuckle following.

You smiled, looking back up at him, your brain trying to process what he just said. After a few moments of silence, you spit out a “why are you bringing this up?” Your voice was soft, almost a whisper.

He sighed, hand moving from your hip and rubbing his face lightly. “I don’t know, I’ve just been thinking a lot.” You gave him a look that told him to continue. “I mean, I think it’s kind of obvious that I like you.”

Your mouth dropped, “obvious? Pete Davidson you have been far from obvious about your feelings.” You really thought you were dreaming, hearing those words from him was just impossible.

“Are you kidding me? How many sketches do I have to write just so I can flirt with you? Have you not picked up on the fact that literally every sketch I write for you to be in we’re playing some sort of couple?” He laughed, stepping towards you, and grabbing your hips again. “Dude, and I thought I was oblivious to this shit.”

“In my defense I’ve spent the past like 6 years trying to convince myself you didn’t feel the same way.” You said, a smile crossing your face.

Pete rolled his eyes, leaning closer to you, “now why would you wanna do that?” There was a playful tone in his voice, but you couldn’t help your serious answer.

“Because I didn’t wanna read the signs wrong and mess up our friendship.” You sighed.

Pete’s smile softened, “Y/N I literally want to kill you right now for making me wait this long.” You giggled, leaning closer to him. “But you’re cute so I guess I can let it slide.”

“If I kiss you will it make up for it?” You asked, batting your eyelashes.

Pete pretended to think about it, “hmmm, maybe. You should definitely give it a shot to see.”

You rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you. Your lips touched his and it was like everything in the universe suddenly aligned. His mouth moved against yours in soft, perfect motions. His hands pulled you closer into him, your bodies molding together like it was meant to be.

When you finally pulled away for breath, he pressed his forehead against yours, a wide grin on his face. “So, about those drinks?”

#pete davidson #pete davidson imagine #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson fluff

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quixotic-writer · 3 years

Text

Sugar Daddy

request: anon

summary: When you first met Q, you had virtually no clue who he was. After a few more pricey dates, he revealed his occupation. Showering you with gifts was his love language, you weren’t about to complain!

warning: smut ahead!

——————————————————————————

The alarm on my phone goes off as it vibrates on my bedside table. My face was mushed into the pillow that my head was resting on, I started coming to and realizing that if I hit snooze once, it would start a cycle until noon and I would be even grumpier and sluggish. I take a deep breath in and grab my phone to turn the alarm off. As I rub my eyes and sit up, I see a text notification and my heart immediately kickstarts. It was from Bri.

B Bear: Hey baby <3 Got work today?

I smile from ear to ear as I see the message. We had been dating for a while now and I was hopelessly in love with him. He was honestly perfect to me in every way. He had a sweet and loving personality, he was super funny and always had this way of making me laugh, he was geeky in the cutest way and loved showing me all his collectibles and telling me all about them, and he was protective and super caring.

The way he shows his love to me is what melts my heart the most. His protective nature got the best of him at a bar we went to together and he ended up throwing his drink in the face of a guy that wouldn’t leave me alone. We got escorted out of the bar and he kept saying sorry that he wasn’t there sooner. Any day I'm sad or in a bit of a mood, he always goes out of his way to make me laugh or smile until I forget what I was even mad about in the first place. Lastly, he constantly showers me with gifts.

Me: Good morning! No work today. Have the day off

I texted him back with a smile as I watched the little thought bubble pop up until his next message came through.

B Bear: Dinner tonight then? Murr has been pestering me endlessly about this restaurant he and Melyssa had gone to and I think it’s about time I see what the fuss is all about

Me: Sounds good!

Just then a notification came in. Brian had sent me money, and it was not at all a small amount.

B Bear: Buy yourself a new dress for tonight then princess. It’s a little more formal wear.

B Bear: I’ll pick you up at 7. Love you

Now, when I first started dating Brian, I had no clue he was on TV or any bit famous at all. When he started treating me to more extravagant gifts and dates, that’s when I asked and he revealed all to me. I felt bad and was always trying to pay for things so he didn’t think I was using him for his money, but he always insisted on paying.

“Princess, we’ve been together for how long? I know you wouldn’t use me. Let me do this for you.” He would always say. After a while, I gave up the fight and just allowed him to treat me. Soon enough I grew a collection of gorgeous jewelry, a whole new wardrobe basically filled with a variety of name brand outfits, and if I so much as mention something I own being broken he is quick to hop on it and pay to have it fixed. At this point, I really do think he is my sugar daddy, and he wasn’t at all opposed to that label. He quite liked it.

Me: You spoil me too much. I’ll see you at 7 then B <3

I throw the covers off of me and make my way to the kitchen to fix myself a bowl of cereal before I get started on my day. What a way to wake up honestly, but I was not at all complaining. I finished up breakfast and got myself cleaned up, gathered up all my things in my purse, and was out the door and headed to the mall to go and treat myself. I often worried that maybe my closet was getting a little too full, I just couldn’t bear to part with any of my outfits. The way Brian made me feel when I wore each one of them made me feel so attached to them too, even if his way of saying I looked good in it was by having it end up on his bedroom floor.

I walked through the mall, doing a little bit of window shopping at first, scoping out the scene and feeling out what I might indulge myself in today as far as fashion went. Sundresses had caught my eye, especially one that was in the window and on display; Flowing, knee length, and white. I passed it by but made sure to take a mental picture of it. As much as I adored having a sort of allowance from Bri, I wasn’t about to abuse it. Besides, that would have been yet another thing I would have to make some kind of room for in my already overstuffed closet.

‘Maybe I could bother him for a bigger closet renovation,’ I joked to myself with a smile. I continue walking through and I see it from a distance: the lingerie store. I subtly bit my lip and was then in a mental tug of war of ‘should I?’ or ‘should I not?’ But as I got closer, the temptation took over and I found myself perusing through their cutest pieces that caught my eye. The least I could do to pay Bri back for the fancy evening, would be to give him a little bit of eye candy and a good time after the meal. Black lace, gorgeous ivory teddies, sensual cherry red garter belts, it was all so nice. After finding a few cute sets, I placed them on hold because I still had a main mission in mind that I came to the mall for in the first place.

I found the perfect dress: A wine red halter top dress. It had a gorgeous waist that hugged a little at my own to give my body some definition and gorgeously flowed down to my knees. I already knew I had the perfect pair of stilettos to go with this to truly complete this boss bitch look I had going. When I returned to the lingerie store, I already knew which set was going to be mine: black lace strapless top with matching high waist garter belt and panties to complete it all.

Me: [img attch.] picked out a cute little something, can’t wait to see you daddy ;P

I had sent him a picture of my dress, nothing more just to keep an element of surprise for the evening. I wasn’t long before I got a response,

B Bear: You look so gorgeous baby

B Bear: Can’t believe someone so beautiful is all mine

Even through text he could get me to blush.

The rest of my day was spent relaxing, catching up on some reading that I had put off for so long, catching up on a few episodes of a series Bess had gotten me sucked into, and just like that, time flew quickly. I was getting myself all dolled up for dinner, butterflies in my stomach because of the excitement I felt and giddy because I had felt so pretty tonight. It wasn’t often where my confidence and self-esteem would sky rocket like this, so I took it in and embraced as much of that energy as I could.

I heard his little knock at the door, the same rhythm as always so I knew it was him. When I swung open the door, he stood there with a twinkle in his eyes and a smile on his face. He cleaned up super well as always.

“You. Look. Incredible.” He scooped me into his arms and littered my face with kisses and I giggled as his stubble tickled the skin on my face. When I stopped him, I connected our lips together, “Shall we get rolling then princess?” I nodded and we walked down to his car.

The restaurant was gorgeous to say the least. Dim golden lighting, waiters wearing tuxes, glimmering chandeliers dangling from the ceiling to illuminate the tables. Even the air felt expensive. I tensed while we were sitting at our table and looking through the menu, even though he’s taken me to countless luxurious locations, I still felt this sense of guilt for being there and almost an obligation to monetarily repay him somehow someway. I guess he could sense my tension because his hand had found its way to my wrist, his thumb stroking my skin gently and his eyes spoke volumes.

‘It’s okay.’ was all I could see in them. He never had to say a word and I felt my muscles relax again as we carried out with our meal.

Dinner was more perfect than I could ever imagine. Perhaps I had an untrained palette, but everything felt like an explosion of intense rhythmic flavor in my mouth. I savored each and every bite. I felt more relaxed as the meal went on, especially as Brian and I talked throughout the meal, we would occasionally break the snooty facade to share a laugh at something absolutely crude that would pop into our heads. I swear, because of how loud we were getting, I almost thought we were going to get kicked out… Which made us laugh even harder and get that much closer to that being a reality as other tables would shoot us a nasty high-class glare.

Our meal was settled away as once again Brian got a hold of the check. And once again I didn’t bother fighting and allowed him to treat me knowing in my head that I had much bigger plans for him once we got behind closed doors and had no one around but each other.

The car ride to his place was spent laughing at how disgusted people looked with our behavior.

“Nothing but sticks up their asses!” He said with his accent coming through thickly.

His hand was on my thigh the whole way there. He would snatch occasional glances of me at red lights or when traffic was pretty clear. The rough warmth of his palm was enough to start an inferno on my skin and cause me to bite my lip and shift in my seat.

We got to his place, he took my hand, and led me through the space that has grown so familiar to me.

“As much as I love that dress on you, I want it off as soon as possible.” He whispered in my ear as we made our way through the front door. His lips attached itself to whatever flesh was within reach which made me grow wetter by the second. His hands traced about my body, refamiliarizing himself with each curve, dip, and fold he craved. His hands were never rough, they smoothed over my body carefully, almost as if I was fragile, something delicate, it made me feel protected.

As we were in the bedroom, he was quick to undo the zipper to my dress and allow it to pool at my feet. The way his eyes lit up at what was now revealed to be hidden beneath my dress was a look that always drove me crazy.

“Did a little extra shopping today with the extra money, daddy.” I said as I pushed him to the bed. He sat on the edge of the bed, eyes full of hunger and awe.

“I need to give you more money for lingerie. You look so fucking hot.” I straddled his lap, mouths attached and moving with heated passion. His coat fell away as I began tugging at his tie and the buttons on his dress shirt. I could still taste remnants of dinner on his tongue, delectable, indulgent, and I savored it all. My mouth began to move; jawline, neck, chest, stomach. I could smell where he sprayed his cologne, and I stayed where the scent was the strongest, drunk on his scent as my desire for him grew heavier with each breath. His hands held me closer to his bare skin as he let a low hum verberate within his chest. I fell away down between his legs onto my knees. He watches carefully, already out of breath and straining in his pants. I carefully remove his belt, take the zipper down with my teeth, and shed away another layer of clothes. I rub my hand over the cloth of his boxers where his straining erection was prominent, I felt him twitch at my touch and groan.

“Let me pay you back for dinner. How does that sound?” Just like a leaf in fall, the final clothing item was shed away, leaving Brian bare before me. He sat there, arms behind him pushed into the comforter of the bed for support as he eagerly anticipated my next moves, hoping it would be one that would satisfy the lustful desire he had coursing through him.

I kiss at his thighs, leaving a few love marks to show that despite being his, he was also mine. My head and hands find their way below, down to his balls where I carefully massaged them and sucked at the sensitive skin. The groans and moans that Brian was making was enough to tell me that he was enjoying himself. I began moving myself up again, kissing up along his shaft, tracing along veins with a pointed tongue and feeling him pulse beneath me as my hands ran along his thighs that would occasionally tense when I hit just the right spot. When I reached the head, I could see the pre-cum seeping out. I gave his cock a nice pump that sent more spilling out and I was quick to lick it all up.

“Baby, no more teasing. Please.” He begged brushing my hair carefully out of the way. I looked up at him with an innocent sparkle in my eyes,

“But I know you love how it feels daddy.” With a sharp inhale and his lip caught between his teeth, I finally took the first few inches of his cock into my mouth, pulling away while sucking, only to have it pop out of my mouth. I looked up at him and he was gasping for breath and his legs were trembling. I swirled my tongue around the tip of his cock before once more taking him into my mouth, only to repeat this cycle. I just adored hearing his whines, seeing the veins in his arms pop as he gripped the sheets into a tight fist, feeling his thighs tense and squeeze slightly together anytime a shockwave of pleasure was sent through his body.

I decided he endured enough and began carefully taking more and more of him into my mouth, head bobbing in steady rhythm. “Feels… So fucking good.” He breathed out as one of his hands made its way to the back of my head. He never pushed me further than I could go, or at all. His hand just rested on my head as though he was feeling the rhythm and pace of my head bobbing. The taste of pre-cum began getting more and more consistent, the way his legs began to tremble, “Princess, so close.” I could have came myself hearing his throat raw with desperation as he said those three words. I doubled down and took him all in. His cock hit the back of my throat and the tip of my nose hit his naval until his thighs came together and he was spilling down my throat.

My eyes were watering and my nose slightly runny, but it was always rewarding to see him so pleasured all because of me. He pulled me up and his lips were once more attached to my skin, littering the delicate flesh where my neck and my shoulder met with love bites of varying hues.

“Mine,” He would grunt whenever his lips would depart from my skin and then go right back.

He laid me delicately on my back and I felt his cock – still rock hard – resting against my thigh as he kissed my forehead, “Love you,” he says before kissing my lips, “so perfect,” his fingers pushed the panties I wore aside, not even bothering to remove them which honestly made it all so much hotter, “my princess.” He slid into me easily, filling me whole as my eyes rolled back at the sensation, lips parted as humid breath left my lungs.

“Daddy.” I couldn’t let out anymore as my nerves all stood on end as he began to rock his hips steadily into mine.

“You feel so good around my cock. Something so perfect is all mine.” I wrapped my legs around him, beckoning him closer and deeper. The way his cock curved hit all my sensitive spots and it wasn’t long before I was seeing stars, the noises that wanted so badly to break free past my lips but fell stuck within my throat as I was blissed out in pleasure. My muscles tightened around his cock as I experienced pure euphoria, “god you feel even better when you cum all over my cock sweetheart.” his hips continued working and I felt overstimulated, but I absolutely loved it. “Came that hard and I didn’t even have to touch your clit.”

As my body rocked, but boobs started spilling out of the strapless bra. Brian took notice and was quick to crane his neck down and lick around my hardened nipple. He licked, sucked, and lightly bit around the sensitive buds which only added to the extreme pleasure I was experiencing as my body started building up to another orgasm. I held his head in close with a desire to be as close to him as physically possible, aching to feel every inch of his skin, wanting nothing more but for him to feel exactly what I feel: Lustful love.

His hips started working faster and faster and his rhythm was slowly losing any trace of precise tempo. His hand slipped between us, fingers working at my clit and sending me over the edge once again with a cry.

“Princess… Gonna cum again. Where?” He couldn’t even get a full sentence out as he grit his teeth and words were quickly replaced with grunts.

“Cum daddy. Just do it. Wanna make you feel good!” I said as his head was buried in my shoulder, my arms wrapped around his neck bracing for his inevitable climax. With a few more harsh thrusts, he was buried deep within me as I felt warm spurts filling me, my legs holding us close together, intertwined as we pant and catch our breaths.

“I love you so much baby. I love you.” He said with a final kiss and our foreheads pressed together.

Once he had come down from his high, he went and grabbed a towel for me and helped clean me up.

“Thank you for tonight.” I said softly as he held me close in his arms.

“Anything for you princess. You deserve the world.” He kissed the top of my head and brushed my hair out of my face. “You have amazing taste in lingerie also.”

#suki writes #q x reader #brian quinn x reader #smut

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luimagines · 3 years

Text

They react to you having a breakdown Part 2

Masterlist

Part 1

Part 2 will include Time, Twilight, Wind and Four.

Content until the cut!

Time

Time... had an off feeling.

There was a charged energy in the group but he couldn’t pin point where it was coming from or how to break it.

It was just this looming mass of some metaphorical dark cloud over some of the group. There was a tense atmosphere and it was enough to make him uncomfortable- enough to make him feel like he was walking on eggshells.

As the group traveled, it grew in intensity and he was sure he was approaching the source of the tension.

It was you.

Weirdly.

Time was immediately concerned. He knew you to be the most calm and mild tempered of the group and typically in a good mood. If something was bothering you, it must have been beyond important and he wanted to help in whatever way he could.

He tried to maneuver what he could around the boys and single you out, taking you aside and staying at your side for a trail.

The mood of the boys lifted somewhat but Time could feel the intensity of your emotion now that he was right beside you. He moved the both of you to the back of the group and let the boys move ahead without the two of you.

Time had stopped and placed a hand on your shoulder, stopping you as well. “Are you well? What seems to be the problem?”

Your head fell, as if it was only being held by a string that had just been cut. “I’m fine.”

You, in fact, not fine.

Your voice was the smallest Time had ever heard, it was not as strong as you were trying to convey and it sounded only seconds from breaking entirely.

Time takes in a control and long breath.

“What did I say about the lying?” Time gently turns you around so that you’re face to face with him and places his other hand on your other shoulder.

“Only do it if you can pull it off.” Your voice cracks.

Time hums a bit, trying to not laugh too much at your answer. That is not what he said about lying. But he’ll let you have this one.

“Not quite.” Time dips down a bit so he can look in the eyes a little more properly. “If you have any grievances, now’s the time to get it off your chest. I won’t tell the others.”

You sniffle and try to continue to hold yourself together. But it’s in vain.

Within seconds you crumble and all but throw yourself into his arms, wrapping your around his torso with a vice like grip. Your sobs are quiet to even Time’s ears but the strength you use against him and to pull in your breaths is enough to tell him that perhaps you’ve hurting for a while.

He hugs you back without hesitation and places his head on top of yours while you cry.

Twilight makes a come back as Wolfie but Time’s quick to shoo him away.

The last thing you need an audience.

But it’s ok. He’s got you. Let it out. He’ll hold you until you’re done.

Twilight

Wolfie was patrolling the perimeter during his night shift when he sees you storm away from the camp. You’re breathing heavily and there’s an iron grip on your fists.

He pauses and watches you from the shadows.

You take a long breath and press the heels of your hands into your eyes. You stay in that position for a moment before he hears you whine and fall to your knees.

He pads over to you quietly and steps on a twig or two to let you know he’s near.

You don’t react, so now he knows you’re in a state.

He whines quietly and pokes your hands with his nose. You sniffle loudly and pull your hands away. “...Wolfie”

Oh.

Wolfie doesn’t know how he can fix this.

He gulps slightly and pushes your hands even further away with his nose. You pet him absentmindedly and gulp in a breath.

Twilight doesn’t like seeing you in pain but he has no idea what might have caused this. Nightmare? Bad memories? He was sure you were asleep earlier.

“I don’t know what to do Wolfie.” Your voice cracks and you break down into sobs. You’re not even trying to be quiet or hold back anymore. Twilight doesn’t know what exactly you’re talking about. You were fine ealier... But he supposes that this is merely an accumulation of built up emotions.

Twilight forces himself into your personal space and presses himself against the crook of your neck.

You’re quick to hug him with as much force as you can manage and sob into his fur.

Twilight feel his heart bleed for you and lets you hold him. You run your fingers through his fur and press your head into his with as much force as you need as you cry.

Twilight almost wants to transform back to him you properly but he holds back. He doubts that Twilight would get as much as an reaction as Wolfie would and he seen enough of Wild’s episodes that this is something only an animal would be able to properly fill the role for.

He stays in that position for what feels like hours and it takes him a second to realize that you cried yourself back to sleep.

He transform back to his human form on the spot and picks you up in his arms. You’re light and the tear steaks hit him differently than he thought it would when he gets back to the fire light.

He gently puts you back on your bed roll and pulls your blanket up to your shoulders. Twilight makes quick work of tucking you in and makes sure that you’re still warm even if you were to shift in your sleep.

He stands up with a sigh and dusts his pants off.

He looks around the camp.

I’ll stay, he thinks to himself.

The perimeter was secure anyway, he’s not sure if anyone else will wake up tonight and need a shoulder to cry on.

Wind

Wind was busy exploring the immediate area around the camp since Time said they were allowed to.

Which basically means that two thirds of the group split up and scattered.

He had a laugh on his breath as he dashed through the various trees and tried to not get too lost. Wind didn’t want to be too far from the group but he also found that there was too much just in the horizon that was calling to him.

That is... until he thought he heard something.

Wind instantly stops in his tracks and strains to hear through the environmental noises around him.

No, yeah, he wasn’t hearing things. Someone is nearby and crying

Where though?

Wind is a little, ok very concerned by the sounds. So he crept through the foliage towards it. He knew that Wild had told him of some Yiga people who tried to lure him by crying and getting him to ask them what’s wrong....and he didn’t feel very equipped to deal with them right now.

He crept closer and held his breath.

Only to gasp when he saw that it was you who was crying.

He bit his lip and thought about what to do. It was obvious that you came all this way to be alone and not be seen. But it didn’t sit right with him to leave alone now that he’s seen you. He knows that he’s a bad actor and there’s no way that he’d be able to pretend that he didn’t see anything.

He steps on a twig.

Your head shoots up and you manage to look directly at him.

“Oh.” You gulp and begin to wipe your eyes as fast as you can, as if that would change what he’s seen and get rid of the evidence. “Wind... I didn’t see you there. Does Time need something? Do we need to head back?”

He looks behind him in case anyone else is nearby. When he sees no one, he takes a step towards you instead and takes a seat next to you. “Not to my knowledge, no. What’s wrong?”

“It’s not-” You take a breath. It’s shaky and you can’t seem to complete the sentence before you curl into yourself again and let a whine.

Wind feels awkward. He can see how tense you are from trying to hold yourself back, and he knows it’s because he’s there. He wants to let it all out and feel better but he’ll awful if he leaves you now.

Wind gathers his courage and maneuvers so that he’s kneeling in front of you. He puts his hand son your shoulder and pushes you upwards. You let him with a saddened but curious expression. There’s more tears on your cheeks and Wind nearly wants to cry from the sight of it alone.

He shoves his way forward and hugs you as hard as he can. It’s quiet between the both of you for a hot minute before Wind dips his head into the crook of your neck. “...It’s ok to cry... I won’t tell anyone.”

It breaks the dam and you hug him back. Not as hard as he’d be willing to let you or as hard as he thinks you want to, but he’ll take it.

His shoulder instantly begins to dampen and he holds you through it.

He doesn’t know what caused this and he doubts you’ll share it with him, but at least he can let you know that he’s there for you.

Four

Four has been walking by your side for a while and he’s been the edge the entire time.

He doesn’t know why he’s so uncomfortable and for a moment he thinks he’s imagining things. You’ve always been a source of comfort and a great conversationalist, there’s rarely a moment of silence when you’re around and it’s something he feels well acquainted with.

But now you’re silent.

Four wants to ask you something, anything, to make sure that you’re ok and that you’re not upset with him. But he doesn’t know where to start or how to not make it awkward.

“Hey.” Four says your name and pulls on your sleeve gently to get your attention. “What’s up? You ok?”

You nod and smile.

It doesn’t reach your eyes.

“You don’t look like you’re ok.” Four gulps and grabs your hand before you can start moving away.

He can see your jaw flex for a second before you shrug and look away from him. you shake him off slightly and begin to walk away. “Stop looking then.”

“No, no, no, you’re not getting away from me that easily. But seriously, what’s wrong?” Four begins to chase after you. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“It’s nothing Four. I’ll be fine. Drop it.”

Well he doesn’t like that at all.

He only filled with concern and spite and he’s determined to be a decent friend even if it kills him in the end.

“Well... If you ever want to talk about it...” Four trails off and shrugs in return, keeping your pace with ease.

“I don’t think I could if I wanted to.” You mutter to yourself. He’s sure that he wasn’t supposed to hear that but it’s too late.

Four leans over to look at your face through your hair over your eyes. “I’m here if you need me.”

“Thanks Smithy, I know.”

You both continue to walk in silence for moment longer before he sees that your pace is slowing down considerably. You’re beginning to curl in yourself and grip your belt tightly.

Four is concerned even more now and places his hand on your back. He’s at a lost for words at what’s happening to you. You don’t seem to be hurt physically given how long you’ve already been traveling but now he knows he’s right.

Something’s wrong.

“What’s wrong?”

“So much.” You choke up and fall to your knees. Four collapses with you and bring you against his chest. He’s quick to hold you tight as you descend in loud and unrestrained despair. Four can’t get any more words out of you even if your emotions are laid bare for both him and the heavens to witness.

He’s glad that the other’s aren’t around at the moment but someone’s going to come check on you eventually. Whether it’s one of the two pairs behind you or someone turns back to investigate the amount of nose you’re making.

It’s not looking good either way for a lack of audience but Four’s not inclined to rush you. It’s not good to rush these things.

So he lets you cry against him and he run his fingers through your hair, rubbing circles on your back at the same time to try and calm you.

It’s fine. You need a moment.

You’ll get your moment. Four will make sure of it.

If anyone asks, they’ll answer to him and you can avoid people for as long as you need.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader

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diegos-butt · 3 years

Text

Electricity Chapter 1

Summary: For the first time in her life, Melody Williams is moving out of her hometown to Minnesota where she got a job as a crime journalist for the Minnesota Daily. But this city does not only have a new job for her to offer. What will happen when she crosses paths with detective Walter Marshall? Heads up, a little electricity is involved ✨

Walter Marshall x Melody Williams (curvy OFC)

Warnings: none

Wordcount: 2.5k

A/N: So, I wrote something for the first time 👀 Pls be kind haha. This is written with a plus size/curvy OFC in mind because all my curvy babes, like me, deserve some love 😘

“Thanks for calling me. I will call you back with my decision soon.” I hung up the phone and stared at it in my hand. A woman from the newspaper in the city a few towns over had just called, telling me they were offering me a job at their crime department. I sat at my desk at my current job, a local journalist for my hometown newspaper. I started working there during college and they offered a job after I finished. I happily accepted, because that meant I could move out of my lovely parents’ house and start my own life.

As I sat at my desk I realized I had never really left this town, and I had always fantasized what it would be like to live and work in a different town. I loved my hometown, don’t get me wrong, but it is small and everyone knows each other. Every day is basically the same here. Miss Johnson walks her dog at exact 3pm, the Millers go to the supermarket at 4pm to buy dinner and the whole town eats at Al’s diner every Sunday.

Also, the men in this town aren’t something to write home about. The decent men are taken by the perfect housewives and the ones who are left, are the type of guys who you don’t want to meet in a dark alley. And unfortunately, no nice men have decided to move here in the last couple of years. The only guy I dated (we were only together for a couple of months) decided I wasn’t good enough and eloped with a pretty, skinny blonde bitch.

While the town doesn’t seem to change, neither does my job. I have been covering the local news for a couple of years now, and it feels like I have been doing the same thing over and over again. Nothing really happens here, and honestly it makes me feel stuck at my job. I feel like my job and this place aren’t helping me to move further. I want to learn more and see something else than this town.

Still staring at the phone in my hand realization washed over me. This was my way out. This phone call could change everything. Not thinking twice, I called the woman (I had forgotten her name, Stacy apparently) back telling her I was accepting their offer. This was my chance of starting something new.

In the weeks after the call, I quit my job and started looking for a new place. Luckily, I found a cosy, affordable apartment. Not too big, not too small. Perfect for me and only me. Not wanting to wait, I moved in quickly with the help of my parents and made the place feel a little like home.

It was a cute apartment with one bedroom and a tiny kitchen. I had everything I needed. A comfy couch, my kettle, my books, a tv for my binge-watching nights and lots of cosy blankets and throw pillows.

After moving in and settling down, I finally had a chance to decorate the place with a lot of fairy lights and plants. I stood in the middle of the living area, wiping some sweat of my face after moving around some heavy plants. Yeah, this is starting to look like home. I thought as I looked around the living area, satisfied with the work I did.

I sat down on my couch and looked at the clock on the wall. It was 8pm. I was tired and hadn’t eaten yet. Tomorrow was my first day at the Minnesota Daily and I couldn’t wait. I was a little nervous, but because I was so tired, I didn’t have the energy to be too nervous or to make dinner.

I decided to make a grilled cheese sandwich and go to bed early. Tomorrow was the first day of a new start and I needed to look good. Might need a full 12 hours of sleep if I want to look a little decent, I thought to myself as I stared into the mirror and noticed my messy hair and the bags under my eyes.

After I ate my ‘dinner’ (I decided two grilled cheese sandwiches counted as dinner), I went to my bedroom and picked an outfit for tomorrow. A simple jeans and a baby blue blouse would do it. Afterwards I brushed my teeth and removed my make up. I put on my pyjamas and fell asleep as soon as my head hit my pillow.

After parking my car in the parking garage underneath the building the Minnesota Daily is located, I checked my make up one last time in the rear-view mirror. No uneven eyebrows and no smudges of mascara. Let’s go make a good first impression.

I stepped out of the car and grabbed my purse. I walked out of the parking garage and made my way to the front desk where I was greeted by a friendly older looking receptionist.

“Hi, I’m Melody! It is my first day here and I was told to ask for Stacy,” I said.

“Welcome dear! I’ll let Stacy know you’re here! She’ll be here in a sec,” she said with a smile. I nodded and looked around. People were walking in and out of the building, most of them talking on the phone. They all looked like they were in a rush.

Stacy appeared within a minute. She was taller than me, and I’m not exactly tiny, and her long brown hair was tied up in a bun. She walked towards me with her hand reached out and I quickly took it.

“Hi, you must be Melody! I’m Stacy, but everyone calls me Stace. Come, follow me, I’ll show you where we will be working!” she said while we walked to the elevator. While the elevator brought us to the 8th floor, she asked me how my new apartment was and if I liked the city. Before I knew it, the elevator reached the 8th floor.

“Everyone, pay attention! This is Melody and she will be joining our department as you all know,” Stacy practically yelled the second we left the elevator. I already saw some friendly faces looking at me. “Hi, I am Melody, but please call me Mel,” I said while Stacy walked over to a desk and started to introduce me to my new co-workers.

After I met everyone from the crime department, I made my way towards my new desk. Everyone seemed friendly and there was a relaxed atmosphere. Which was a little surprising to me considering this was the crime department. I looked around and thought: yeah, I made the right call to accept this offer.

Yet, I had no idea what this town had to offer me. Or better said, who.

In the first week I worked there I became friends with some of my co-workers. Carmen Garcia practically forced me to go to lunch with her and Gia Park on my first day. They had both been working at the Minnesota Daily for a couple of years now and they were one of the few women in the department. So, they were glad I was recruited to give them another ally in the office.

While we had lunch, they informed me about everything I needed to know. “You seriously need to stay away from creepy Greg, he works for the finance section. Make sure you never go down there alone. He always looks at women like he wants to drag them into an empty alley,” Gia said while pretending to throw up.

“Oh, he is the worst! But Megan, the receptionist, is the best ever. She is so sweet and kind. If you ever need anything, just ask her and she will help you,” Carmen added.

“Definitely! And if you ever need free tickets for a sports game, just let me know and we will visit the guys from the sport section,” Gia told me with a wink.

“I will keep all of this in mind,” I said while taking a sip from my cappuccino. “but tell me something about yourselves!”

Next thing I knew Carmen and Gia told me where they grew up, where they went to school and how they ended up working for the Minnesota Daily. I noticed how easy it was to talk to these girls and we had a good laugh while they told me about their most recent dating disasters. I nearly spilled my cappuccino not once or twice, but thrice while Carmen told me about how she escaped from one of her dates through the bathroom window.

During my first week I spend a lot of time with them. I helped them finish their articles and I got to know them pretty well. Carmen is tough, but sweet and straightforward, while Gia is soft and has a very short span of attention while working. She has visited my desk every half hour just to “catch up”. But I didn’t complain. It was nice to have them as my co-workers, although they began to feel more like friends.

It felt like my life fell into place again. I was making new friends, and I did a pretty good job so far. Still, sometimes I forgot to do basis tasks like getting groceries. So now I was parking my car in the parking lot of the grocery store.

As soon as I stepped out, I felt the cold chilly air around me, making me pull my leather jacket closer around my body. Hastily I stepped through the doors of the store just a few minutes before they would close. Quickly I grabbed a basket, knowing I should grab a cart, and started to walk through the aisles.

It was quiet inside, just a few people were doing some last-minute shopping like me. I waved hello to the woman at the cash register as I made my way to the first aisle.

So just the basics, some bread, apples, veggies, chocolate. Hmm maybe no chocolate. Okay yes, some chocolate. I deserve it today. What else, milk and cereal obviously. Girl gotta eat some breakfast. I thought as I threw some products in my already way too full basket and made my way to the cereal aisle. I walked passed the apples and picked some up, holding them in my hands.

Walking through the aisle I stopped in front of the many boxes of cereal. Above me I noticed a flickering lightbulb, reminding me I still needed to watch the last episode of Stranger Things. Maybe I should watch it tonight.

Staring at all the different kinds of cereal, I couldn’t decide which one I wanted. After a minute of just staring at the boxes lost in my own world, I grabbed one.

Except, I suddenly wasn’t the only one. Quickly I turned around and bumped into a warm, broad chest which made me drop the apples I was carrying. “Oh shit,” I whispered before I looked up into the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen and stared at the man. He had a beard and dark, brown curls. One of the curls dangled in front of his eyes and I had to fight the urge to not wipe it out of his face.

“It didn’t look like you were going to make a decision soon, so I just grabbed the one I wanted,” he said while crouching down to pick up the fallen apples.

“Oh no, no it’s fine,” I stammered, completely overwhelmed by him. “I guess I was zoned out there for a moment.”

While he was picking up the apples, I decided to take a quick look at him. He was a tall, big man wearing a dark blue sweater. Damn it, he is gorgeous. Don’t mind bumping into him more often.. no don’t go there, pull yourself together! I thought as I felt my cheeks burning all of a sudden. I couldn’t even remember the last time I talked to a man this handsome. Get it together Mel.

As he stood up and handed me the apples, I noticed how tired he looked. There were dark circles underneath his eyes, making me wonder when it was the last time he had a decent amount of sleep. Or if he ever had a decent night of sleep.

“Thank you for picking these up,” I said while holding up the apples, making them almost fall again. His reflexes were fast as he grabbed my elbow, helping me keep the apples balanced. The warmth of his hand made my legs suddenly feel a little weak.

“No problem,” he chuckled tiredly making me smile a little. “Maybe you should have gotten a cart instead of a basket, might be easier,” he said while still holding onto my elbow. He pointed with his other hand to my basket that was way too full.

“You are probably right, but my stubborn ass thought I could carry it all, so here we are,” I answered with a timed laugh, feeling a little embarrassed. He looked at me with those blue eyes and I noticed he had a “don’t mess with me” vibe, that somehow made me feel safe.

As I looked at his hand on my elbow, I suddenly became aware of how close he was. I could smell his musky cologne. He noticed I looked at his hand, and he abruptly let go of me while taking a step back. I immediately missed the warmth of his hand.

“I, uh, I need to go. Take care and don’t drop those again,” he told me with a small smile pointing at the apples in my hands. He grabbed his own basket and started to walk away. As he walked away, I took a good look of him. He was a very muscular man, and I took a mental picture of his ass because that was a sight I did not want to forget. I must tell Carmen and Gia about this.

“I can’t promise that, but I will try my hardest,” I laughed, knowing I would probably drop them again soon. “See you around?” I asked him. Surprised by my own boldness I nearly sank through the floor out of embarrassment.

He looked back at me with those beautiful blue eyes and I felt a spark of electricity going through my spine. “I hope so,” he said with a smirk before he shook his head and turned the corner leaving me speechless in the cereal aisle.

I stood there for another minute while coming back to my senses. My cheeks stopped burning and I realized I had not embarrassed myself that much. I smiled to myself and pictured the smirk he gave me in my head. Then the announcement that the store was about to close in a few minutes blared through the speakers, reminding me I still had to collect some groceries.

Quickly I grabbed the rest of the groceries and headed towards the cash register hoping to see him one more time. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be found.

I paid for the groceries and walked to my car. Loading the groceries in the trunk I nearly dropped the apples again. Told you, I thought while closing the trunk. It was getting dark and colder outside so I wasted no more time and drove home.

While driving home I realized the mistake I made.

Damn, I should’ve asked his name.

•••

> Chapter two

Taglist: @keanureevesisbae

If somehow you want to be on my taglist, just let me know!

#Walter Marshall #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall x plus size ofc #walter marshall x oc #walter marshall x curvy ofc #henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x plus size ofc #henry cavill x curvy ofc #plus size ofc #curvy ofc #fanfiction #electricity #night hunter #nomis

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procrastinatorproject · 2 years

Text

After S2E6 of Star Trek: Picard, I was feeling really disappointed and angry about how the writers were so deeply disregarding anything and everything from season 1. We can debate whether season 2 was well-written in its own right (after watching the season finale today, I certainly have Thoughts), but nobody can argue that it was a satisfying continuation of season 1.

Even the characters who got some great development (i.e. Seven of Nine and Picard, unsurprisingly) were fairly divorced from where we saw them in season 1, without the writers ever giving a really satisfying reason for it.

I might, at some point, have the energy to properly go into all of this, but for now, here is how my post-episode-6 rant ended. I feel this ever more strongly tonight.

I really loved season 1. I loved that all the characters were broken in their own ways but still managed to work together towards a goal, I loved how they coaxed each other out of their misery. I really liked the budding relationship between Agnes and Rios. I feel a deep kinship with season 1 Agnes. I thought the themes and worldbuilding were really fascinating, even if the writing didn't always do them (or Agnes, for that matter) justice.

That world and those characters have essentially been my home for the last two years and the stories (and the friends I found through them) got me through some of the darkest moments I've had in my life so far.

It would be one thing if the season 2 writers had said: "Okay, we think season 1 had some glaring flaws. We think it won't hold as the foundation to build two more seasons on top of, so let's find a way to sensibly strip it down to the studs and build out again from there." (I personally would have preferred the approach of "Okay, it's a bit wonky, let's reinforce what's there so it will be strong enough to carry what we're building on top of it", but I didn't honestly expect that to happen.)

If the season 2 writers had taken the characters and looked at them -- really looked at them and where they ended season 1 -- and done even the bare minimum to lead us into where they are in season 2, I would have found that a little sad but been willing to take it as good writing.

Instead, sticking with the metaphor, it feels like the season 2 writers went in like: "Okay. We like the cornerstone of this building (Jean-Luc Picard), but everything else is an unsalvageable mess. Look at it! It looks completely different from everything that came before and doesn't properly pay homage to all these older building styles! So we're going to take a few bricks, chip away at them and put in filler until they work for the new building we want, and then we're going to build something completely new that is much, much closer to the classic buildings all around. If someone complains that it's a disservice to the building we tore down, we can point at the handful of bricks. See? It's the same building! Just better. And also, we need to make sure that all these bits of legacy stonework get a really prominent place and we constantly show them off and talk about them, because that's why people are really here, right? Not this weird newfangled business."

Meanwhile, I'm sitting in the ruins of the house that has sheltered and supported me for two years and am wondering what the fuck I'm supposed to do.

Sure, I still have blueprints and photos and like... a model replica of the house. And I have my little shovel and pile of mortar and I can reconstruct and build it out and fill in the gaps. But most of the people have moved to the new house and are yelling about how much nicer it is over there and how I'm stupid for even appreciating this dilapidated shack of a building that was poorly constructed and mostly held up by the strength of its admittedly pretty bricks.

Fortunately, I know I’m not alone in the rubble. I have my friends, sitting in the ruins with me, and we’re going to rebuild something out of this once the dust has settled.

But the loss is still intense.

#star trek picard #star trek picard season 2 #picard spoilers #i just feel so broken

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samstree · 3 years

Note

hi dear!! what about 37 for the pining prompts?? only if you feel like it 💞💞

37. "Characters cannot touch for plot reasons." Thanks for the prompt Chrysa!! Here's more empath!Jaskier!

Unfinished Story

Empath!Jaskier, 2.4k, soft geraskier, ciri has a nightmare, hurt/comfort, mentions of past violence

Part of the Empath AU

Read on AO3

Ciri’s scream pulls Geralt out of his doze.

He springs up immediately, knocking Jaskier’s arm out of the way. The bard grumbles something incoherent on the bedroll before fully waking. “G’ralt, what is… Oh, shit.”

The scream continues, Geralt’s medallion thrumming because of the chaos carried by the sound. The ember is dying but the moon provides enough light for him to see Cir in a fetal position, her face buried in the crook of her elbow. Her ashen-colored curls obscure the view.

Geralt half-scrambles to her side, familiar panic seizing his heart. It’s been so long since she had a nightmare this bad, so long that it’s taking him a second to react.

“Ciri.” He shakes her shoulder gently, but she flinches away. The smell of fear rolls off of her in waves. “Ciri, wake up. You are dreaming.”

The sharp wail trails off to a quieter one, but her eyes stay shut, her brows agonizingly knitted tight. Geralt tries to soothe her by stroking her hair, only to have her snatch his hand and holding onto it for dear life. He squeezes, hoping it’s a comforting gesture.

Each of Ciri’s cries sends a pang of regret in Geralt’s chest. If only he could go back in time. If only he had found her earlier, before the horrors of Nilfgaard—

“Hey, let me help.”

A hand falls to Geralt’s shoulder, and Jaskier meets his gaze in the dim light, the bleariness in his eyes completely gone.

Please, he wants to say. The word gets interrupted by the girl’s writhing.

Jaskier takes over Ciri’s hand, despite her reluctance to let go of Geralt. She clings to him during bad dreams, even when she can’t properly wake up, but the witcher knows it’s important not to touch either of them right now. The wolf medallion vibrates more as the empath works, calming her through the touch.

“It’s okay…” Geralt murmurs helplessly to the girl still asleep. “It’s okay, cub. We are here.”

The empty space around Geralt is excruciating. Under the clear night sky, his witcher senses allow him to see the two of them basked in the silver moonlight—Jaskier kneeling at Ciri’s side, one hand clasped around her wrist and the other carding through her curls. The girl’s pained expression eases slowly.

“Oh… Don’t be afraid, sweet girl,” Jaskier shushes her, the flow of chaos buzzing in the air. “Let me take your fear away, all right? Don’t fight me. Let me in, so you won’t be scared anymore…”

The bard continues to murmur sweet nothings to the girl, easing her resistance to his empathetic powers. At this point, Jaskier’s magic is like a second layer of skin to Geralt, gentle and warm and weaving around their hearts. Even when it’s not directly used on him, he feels somehow pulled to their connection.

To Jaskier and Ciri.

His empath bard and his child surprise.

Two halves of his world.

Jaskier’s eyes are closed to concentration, taming the waves of Ciri’s distress. The action exerts him, Geralt can tell from his elevated heartbeat and the slight slump in his shoulders. The witcher catches himself before he reaches out subconsciously. The gnawing urge to help almost makes him scowl in frustration.

Inaction has never been Geralt’s strong suit.

Finally, finally, Ciri’s eyes flutter open. She’s holding back the tears, as always, even when she’s confused from these dreams, even when she’s reliving her past and desperately searching for her family in the present.

“Geralt?”

Her voice is so small and he has to lean in to hear.

A relieved sigh escapes Jaskier’s lips as he lets go of the girl’s hand. With the magic dissipating, so does the stench of fear. The air settles. As soon as the medallion stills, Geralt surges forward to put a hand on her arm, so she knows he’s here.

On Geralt’s periphery, he senses bard stand and walk to the other side of the campfire—the empath usually needs a moment to collect himself after absorbing someone’s emotions—but right now Geralt’s focus is on his child.

“It’s okay. You are safe, Ciri,” Geralt whispers.

“I dreamed—”

“You are not there anymore.”

“It was burning…I—there was fire… and the man.” She sniffles, stubbornly refusing to cry. His child is tough, probably too tough for her own good.

“It wasn’t real.”

“Because you found me?” There’s a sliver of doubt in her voice that Geralt wishes more than anything to remove.

“Because I found you, Ciri,” he reassures. She’ll need reminding tonight. “You are my destiny and more. I’m here so you’ll never have to be lost again.”

A tiny smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. Geralt tucks away a strand of hair on her face and watches her eyelids droop heavily.

“I’m not. Not now that I’m awake.”

He returns the smile, although she can’t see it that well in the shadows. “That’s because of Jaskier.”

“Oh.” She searches for the bard. When Geralt looks back at the empath’s silhouette, he’s leaning against a tree, a few paces away from camp. “Thank you, Jaskier. Again,” she says.

“Of course, princess,” Jaskier says softly, “I know how scary nightmares can be, no matter how long it’s been. Those things may have happened a long time ago, but sometimes…they come back and haunt when you least expect it.” He pauses, looking to the distance for a moment. “I’d chase them away for you any time.”

She murmurs another thanks before her eyes close with exhaustion.

“Go back to sleep,” Geralt tucks Ciri’s blanket in, before taking her hand again, his thumb tracing a little circle on her skin. “Sleep, cub. We’ll be here. Both of us.”

It doesn’t take long for her to fall into a deep slumber, peacefully this time. Geralt sits next to her for a while longer just to be sure. When he finally leaves Ciri’s side to see to his bard, Jaskier is still standing with his back against the tree. He seems to be miles away, his expression hidden in the shadows, distant and inscrutable.

“Jask?” They are far enough from the girl but Geralt keeps his voice low.

With a surprised gasp, the bard notices him approaching and almost flinches. “Don’t—”

“Don’t touch you, I know.”

Jaskier rests his head on the tree bark. “Just for now.”

Geralt’s fists clench and unclench at his sides. Using those powers takes a lot out of Jaskier, and it leaves him unbalanced. The empath is so wary of hurting him by accident when he’s like this, with raw energy still rippling under his skin.

But in truth, Geralt doesn’t care. He wishes Jaskier could let him in, let him share the burden. Right now, with the space between them, he’ll have to rely on words instead of action.

It really isn’t his strong suit.

“Another nightmare… ” he decides to distract the bard while he recovers. “It’s been too long since Ciri had an episode. I thought it was all over.”

“Time doesn’t heal all wounds, Geralt,” Jaskier breathes. “We should all know better.”

Geralt frowns at the haunted look on his bard’s face. The tips of his fingers reach forward again, but he quickly hides the movement by crossing his arms before his chest.

“You sound like you are speaking from experience, Jask.”

“Do I?”

“Hmm.” Geralt’s stomach turns at the way Jaskier speaks about the girl’s trauma. “You know if you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

Jaskier squirms, chewing on his lower lip. Now he’s truly nervous, tense even. The witcher sees the way his posture stiffens and quickly adds, “Or not. Uh—it’s okay if you don’t—"

“No,” Jaskier interrupts him, shaking his head, “No, I want to tell you. I should tell you everything, at this point.”

Silence hangs between them as the bard adjusts his breathing. In and out, like he would before a performance.

“Years ago, when you first identified my powers” Jaskier chooses his words cautiously, the moon shining in his eyes. “I asked if you would use silver on me.”

Geralt’s heart sinks. “I would never, Jaskier. I—How could you ever think that?”

“Oh, relax, my love. I know.” the bard chuckles tightly. “Even back then, I knew you to be a decent man under all the gruffness. You wouldn’t even harm those confused monsters who drifted to human territory on accident, remember? You claimed that your life was just coin and contracts, but to me, it was clear that you were so much more.”

“You are not a monster,” Geralt argues.

“No, but someone else might think differently.”

The leaves rustle in the breeze, the air cooling as the night stretches on. Without the blanket, Jaskier shivers with only a thin chemise on his back. Geralt’s body gravitates toward him of its own volition. Fuck it, if he can just hold Jaskier right now…

“I was thirteen.” The bard is lost in memory. “This man, a magic user, came to our door. It was just me and my mother. He somehow knew about our identities and asked for her help. You see, she had been keeping it a secret for so long, so she couldn’t trust this man, this mage, who somehow just knew that we were empaths.”

He lets out a shuddering breath before continuing.

“His request was… weird. Something about a king or a royal court. I remember thinking that whatever he said sounded so sinister, it couldn’t have been any good. Mum sent him away on the spot, but afterwards she got so scared, like he’d come back again or something. That night, she barred the door and told me to hide in a storage chest. I refused, so she made me. She kept me obedient the entire time.”

Geralt frowns. “Her powers were the same as yours?”

“Stronger.” Jaskier starts pacing, a few twigs snapping under his feet. “She didn’t need contact to manipulate someone’s emotions like me, and she could influence many at the same time. I’m not as powerful—my father was human.”

“What happened next?” Somehow, Geralt knows the story will not end well. A mage usually means trouble. Or in this case, the shadow hidden behind Jaskier’s bright smiles and chirpy songs.

“She kept me calm the whole night, even when she wasn’t with me, but I could feel her fear. It’s was like an undercurrent beneath my skin. I could feel her emotions change. Then I heard the sound of fighting, but I couldn’t get out. I couldn’t go and help her…”

The salty tang of tears assaults Geralt’s nose, but they don’t fall. Jaskier looks up to the sky to hold back the grief that makes his hands tremble.

“Everything got fuzzy after that, but I still remember the pain and the despair. It was like a part of me was hurting with her. Part of me still does, during some nights.” Jaskier closes his eyes in agony. “When I got out the next morning, no one was there. Our home was wrecked, ruined. There was… There was so much blood, Geralt. I—I couldn’t…”

“Oh, Jaskier.” Geralt watches as Jaskier’s shoulders shake, whimpers choking in his throat. Under the night sky, the bard retreats into himself, making his frame look so much smaller. He sways a little and Geralt extends his hands again, hovering by his elbow. “Can I please touch you now?” he pleads.

With a sniffle, the bard composes himself. He flexes his hands to see if his magic is in check. “I think so, yes—oh.”

Geralt pulls Jaskier in for the tightest hug, his arms wrapping around the bard’s frame protectively. Through the thin fabric of the shirt, he can feel another shiver running down Jaskier’s spine, so he rubs small circles into his back to get some heat back in.

He breathes in Jaskier’s scent, not knowing if the lingering stench of fear is from Ciri or the bard.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Jask…” Geralt keeps murmuring into the soft hair by Jaskier’s temple. Gradually, the bard sags against his shoulder, letting himself be soothed and supported. Geralt then places his lips to the skin under Jaskier’s ear, and then his cheek, his chin, all the while holding him impossibly close. He’s ready to help the empath restore his energy with all the brimming love in his chest. “Do you want me to…”

“No,” the bard shakes his head. “I’m good. For now.”

They stand there for so long, swaying gently while the world sleeps, before the bard speaks up again.

“I looked for her, and him, at so many courts.” Jaskier’s slightly colder fingers rest on the nape of Geralt’s neck, buried into the hair there. “No mage fit his description. No trace of her either. I think that deep down, I already knew that she was gone, even back then. Otherwise, I would have felt her in there somehow. No matter how far away she was, but all I had was just this emptiness. I was alone since then.”

“You are not. Not anymore.”

“No,” Jaskier pulls away, the tears have dried. Geralt brings the pad of his thumb to trace those streaks anyway. Under his touch, Jaskier smiles. “You see, back in Posada, I met this witcher, a dashing and heroic one. He fell for me so hard that he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving without me, so he begged me to become his travel companion.”

“And you agreed?” Geralt chuckles.

“Not at first, but he wore me down eventually.”

The bard is the most ridiculous man Geralt knows, and yet here they are. Shaking his head in amusement, the witcher steers his bard back to their bedrolls. As they settle back into their usual position, Geralt can’t help but pull him closer, making sure they are touching from head to toe.

The cover sets heavily over Jaskier's body, slowly warming up his skin. His heart beats against Geralt’s ribcage steadily, showing with solid proof that the empath has survived those horrors.

“I found you too, Jask,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss between Jaskier’s brows.

“Good.” The bard's reply is muffled by Geralt's skin. Not far from them, Ciri is still breathing evenly, sound asleep. Geralt has everyone he needs to protect right here with him, tucked away from their separate demons.

And yet, his mind drifts to Jaskier's story. It’s a tragedy with no end and no closure. There was never a body to bury, no vengeance to seek either.

Somehow, he doubts that an unfinished story will stay unfinished.

---

Tagging: @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @theultimatenerdd @percy-jackson-is-sexy-

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #empath!jaskier #empath au #witcher fic #soft geralt #soft jaskier #hurt/comfort #hurt jaskier #cirilla fiona elen riannon #ciri has a nightmare #cw: past violence

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wheresmynaya · 3 years

Text

Hate to Date Ch.8 | Brittana

A/N - These next two chapters are probably some of the more difficult ones I've written so far for this story so be gentle LOL. Also, I've noticed readers saying in their reviews lately that these weekly updates are like waiting for a new episode of a fav tv show and I love that. One of the things I miss about Glee or whatever show I’m obsessed with is having something to look forward to each week so I'm really happy this story offers you all that kind of comfort! Hopefully I can keep it up 💙

Before you read on, consider treating your local fav fic writer with a coffee through Ko-Fi!

Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & under the cut!

When Saturday rolls around, Santana putters around the apartment attempting to busy herself with meaningless tasks – anything that’ll keep her from anxiously watching the clock. She lounges in her sweatpants and a tank top all day, switching from vegging out on the couch to catching up on some coursework, but it gets harder for her to resist the urge to check the time the later it gets.

No matter what she does, no matter the many distractions she tries piling on – she can’t help but cave.

She can’t help but think about Brittany.

When Puck gets home a little later from hanging out with a couple guys from his team, he finds Santana close to falling asleep on the couch. He takes in the lazy clothes she wears, the messy hair, the sea of snacks that surrounds her and lifts a brow.

“What’s this?”

“What’s it look like?” Santana snarks.

“It looks like you’ve just gone through a rough break up.”

Santana shoots him a look, “I’m clearly having a lazy day.”

He glances from her to the tv screen and back to her again, “Is that what you call it?”

“Yeah,” Santana replies and averts her eyes as she tugs on her blanket. “You can either join or scram.”

Puck rolls his eyes and reaches for the remote. When the screen shuts off, Santana lets out a huff but Puck only crosses his arms.

“What the hell?” She snaps. “I was watching that!”

“So?” Puck challenges.

“So turn it back on.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll kick your ass.”

Puck barks out a laugh, “I’d like to see you try. Go ahead.”

Santana doesn’t move, “I don’t have the energy for this.”

“You’re so damn frustrating,” Puck shakes his head.

The comment makes Santana falter a little; it makes her think about Brittany again, it makes her think about how she let her down, it makes her think about how it made her feel to watch the blonde run away.

But Brittany isn’t here, it’s Puck and Santana knows he doesn’t scare off too easily.

“Just leave me alone,” Santana grumbles.

Of course, Puck doesn’t.

“Are you seriously not going tonight?”

Santana clenches her jaw as the anxious feeling returns. It didn’t take much but she’s wavering and she knows it. Puck probably knows it too or else he wouldn’t be here pressing her buttons still.

“I told you I can’t go,” She tells him defiantly. “I’d only ruin her night. She doesn’t need that, no one does. It’s better if I stay here.”

“Bullshit,” Puck disputes. “You don’t know that.”

Santana stays quiet, she can feel her foundation cracking.

“I do know that,” She says. “You saw how pissed she was when she left. I’d just make things worse if I go.”

Puck sighs tiredly, “Why do you always do that?”

“What?”

“That,” Puck tries to explain. “It’s just like high school – you’re taking yourself out of the game before you even play it.”

That strikes a nerve with Santana, “That’s not what happened and you know it. This is so much different.”

“You gave up then,” Puck tells her. “And you’re giving up now. Why? I don’t know. This should be way easier for you. There’s no scholarship on the line or this big scary secret you need to help hide. You’re not even in love with the girl this time but here you are sitting on the damn bench.”

Santana shrinks back. She doesn’t want to talk about the past, she doesn’t want it mixing in with her present so she deflects, “Can you stop with the ridiculous sports metaphors?”

“No. Now get your ass up,” Puck huffs as he pulls off the blanket Santana covers herself with.

“Goddamn it, Puckerman! Cut the shit!”

“You first, Lopez!”

This time, Santana rises to her feet. She faces Puck head on and glares. Her fists are tight and her chest aches with rage and something else, something she’s tried so many times to push away.

“You know what you have to do,” Puck says. “Stop with the excuses and just go do it already. Quit being a little punk about it.”

“I’m not being a punk,” Santana grumbles.

Puck laughs as he waves his hand at her mess, “All this because Britt finally called you out on your shit? Come on, you’re better than that.”

Santana tenses her jaw again but Puck only softens as he puts his heavy hands on her shoulders, going into total pep talk mode. Santana tries to squirm away, but Puck steadies her like always.

No one would ever expect that this guy, the one with a ratty mohawk, could be the voice of reason for Santana but he’s never failed her before. Just like her, he doesn’t back down. He sticks by her even when she’s being a stubborn dumbass and if anyone needs someone in their life like that it’s Santana.

“I know you,” He says solemnly. “Going to this thing tonight is a piece of cake, all you have to do is quit selling yourself short and go.”

Santana’s shoulders drop even further as Puck continues.

“Prove yourself wrong and kill it,” He says. “You owe it to yourself and you owe it to Brittany.”

There’s an uneasiness still but Santana can’t lie and say Puck’s words didn’t ignite something within her. It goes without saying that his words have had an impact. She bats off his hands and glances at the time, frowning when she sees how late it has gotten.

“I don’t think I can make it in time,” Santana says. “I can’t get ready in forty minutes. My hair alone takes at least an hour.”

“Well what’s that saying?” Puck questions. “Better late than never?”

Santana sighs through a small smile, “I mean, I do like to make an entrance.”

Puck smirks, “Then you better get going.”

Santana’s used to walking into parties like she owns the place, but she finds herself struggling as she approaches the entrance of the Brainiacs’ Ball. She stares up at the prominent steps flanked by solid columns and has never felt so small in all her life. She’s way out of her comfort zone, but she takes the first step anyway.

Slowly, she puts one foot in front of the other. She can feel the low thrum of the bass from the music inside before she can actually hear it. At least that’s something she’s a little more familiar with and with that in mind, she continues her journey.

Maybe Puck was right? This is a piece of cake!

When she reaches the top and looks back, she finds Puck still waiting at the bottom of the stairs watching on like a proud soccer mom. He catcalls at her loudly and it causes the last of the guests making their way inside to stare.

Santana scrunches her face and waves him away, not wanting to be embarrassed by how he sticks out like a sore thumb in his ripped jeans and jersey. He gets the message though and gives her one last round of thumbs up before heading off.

Though she tries to play it off like she can’t stand his dorkiness, she’s thankful for that little bit of extra support and finds enough courage to walk into the building with her head held high.

She might not feel like she owns the place right now, but that’ll change by the end of the night!

Santana knew it was a black tie affair, but she really didn’t expect such extravagance.

There’s a great crystal chandelier hanging from above casting iridescent shadows across the lobby, spotless marbled floors speckled with flecks of gold, the ruby red carpet leading the way into the grand hall where guests dressed to kill mingle with champagne flutes in their hands.

All that’s missing are the annoying paparazzi and the blinding flashes from their cameras and she’d feel like she was at some gaudy Hollywood party.

It’s like she just walked into one of the parties Maribel’s firm throws for holidays and she so wasn’t expecting that. Although she’s been to many of those, she still feels a little out of place as she makes her way through the double doors.

“Good evening,” The doorman greets politely before extending a gloved had to the party. “Welcome to the Brainiacs’ Ball.”

Santana smiles in return and heads in. She tries to keep an eye out for Brittany all while trying to wrap her head around the fact that all of this is in celebration of a handful of academic decathlon clubs.

Who the hell knew they got down like this? Even their DJ has great music playing! Santana’s so surprised, almost distractingly so but then she spots a familiar someone in the crowd.

Brittany

There’s a sudden sense of relief but it’s soon replaced with a frown as Santana finds that the girl isn’t alone. She’s with some tall guy; Santana can’t really see that far to tell who it is or if she knows him. All she knows is that Brittany is standing with him and she’s laughing.

He’s making her laugh.

Santana’s frown deepens before she squints her eyes, trying to get a better look at the guy. Like the others here, he’s dressed to the nines in a dashing suit with his black hair slicked back.

Okay, whatever – he can clean up well. Santana can too! But the important question is, what’s he doing with Brittany?

She ducks behind a vase of flowers, peering through the gaps in the leaves so Brittany doesn’t spot her. She only briefly thinks about how ridiculous she must look before other guests unknowingly happen to block her view.

Frustrated, she tries ducking and dodging them but even in her stilettos she’s just too short. She’ll need to get closer if she wants to see what this guy’s deal is, but as she makes her way over she can’t help but think: did Brittany really replace her?

Surely not, that would definitely raise suspicion. She wouldn’t do that.

Would she?

Suddenly, a waiter dressed formally in a suit and tie steps in Santana’s path. There’s a silver tray full of champagne flutes atop his hand and he looks to Santana expectantly.

“Champagne?”

Santana takes one last look at Brittany and that guy and goes for a glass.

“Yeah, sure.” She takes one and downs it in two gulps.

The waiter raises his brows in awe and quickly goes to turn away, but Santana stops him.

“Hold up,” She says and puts down her empty glass in favor of taking two more. She smiles sweetly at him in thanks before getting her game face on. She finds herself thinking about what Puck said before and starts to fill with confidence – no more sitting on the sidelines for her!

Santana saunters over to Brittany with determination in her eyes.

It’s go time.

“There you are!” Santana greets cheerfully as she reaches Brittany with a champagne flute in each hand. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Brittany stops mid-sentence, her face pale as if she’s just seen a ghost.

“You’re here.”

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t miss it,” Santana replies as she hands her the spare flute before pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek. She looks up at pretty blue eyes and adds, “I know how important this night is for you.”

Brittany blinks, it’s like she can’t believe what she’s hearing. Santana thinks she’s off to a good start so far – naturally – and sizes up the guy Brittany was talking to before she came over.

“And who are you?” She asks with a slight bite to her tone as she wraps her arm around Brittany’s waist.

He falters as he looks back and forth between her and Brittany, “I’m Mike.”

Santana lifts her brow challengingly, but Brittany steps in to add.

“He’s a friend of mine.”

Santana continues to stare at the guy, “Friend.”

“Yeah,” Brittany glances at her with slight confusion but it quickly disappears as she slips into character too. “I was just telling him you weren’t feeling too good and that you probably wouldn’t make it tonight.”

“Right,” Santana replies. Her smile turns devilish, “Well I appreciate the concern but I’m all better now, Mike.”

He looks a little nervous but nods, “That’s good to hear.”

“Mhmm,” Santana brings her glass to her lips. She maintains eye contact with him while she threads her fingers with Brittany’s and sips her champagne slowly.

“Well Britt, I’m gonna go,” He says hesitantly to Brittany before jutting a thumb over his shoulder. “I want to make sure we grab a good seat. I’ll see you over at the table.”

“Okay cool,” Brittany smiles. “See you there.”

“It was nice finally meeting you, Santana,” Mike says kindly to the brunette before disappearing into the crowd.

Santana watches him go as she takes another sip. This Mike character really changed up his tune once Santana was around – all nice and polite. He wasn’t fooling her though! Trying to steal her fake girlfriend, not today!

“He’s gone,” Brittany says gruffly. “You can let go of my hand now.”

“Oh sorry,” Santana pulls away and glances in the direction Mike went. “So he’s attractive…what’s he doing at a place like this?”

Brittany doesn’t even smile, “You know not everyone with a brain looks like Steve Urkel.”

Santana doesn’t notice Brittany’s dismissive tone as she looks around. She’s still mind blown by the atmosphere and the people and everything.

“Clearly,” She replies. “I mean, did you see that man’s jawline? I’m a lesbian, but I can still admire a good looking – “

“What are you doing here, Santana?”

Brittany’s curt tone pulls Santana right back to the other day where they sat together at her tiny dining table and she watched as Brittany grew more and more disappointed in her. There’s a hardness to her, an annoyance, that doesn’t go unnoticed. It makes Santana shrink back, that confidence before taking a big hit, but she stands her ground – even if Brittany makes her feel shaken.

“I’m here to be your arm candy,” Santana says in return – attempting to make this exchange lighthearted.

Brittany’s not having it though as she says bitterly, “I don’t need it.”

“Sure you do.”

“No,” Brittany admonishes. “I don’t so you can leave now.”

Santana slips up out of frustration, “Are you really going to make this difficult for me?”

That sets Brittany off once again, the bitterness intensifying.

“Seriously? You did not just ask me that. After everything you said the other night, after the way you just put your foot down and refused to budge? You want to talk to me about being difficult?” Brittany lets out a dry laugh, “You’ve got some nerve.”

Santana cringes as she takes a subtle look around to make sure no one notices them arguing, but no one pays them any mind. It’s a relief, but it doesn’t offer Santana much comfort with the way Brittany’s still glaring at her.

She was a little prepared for the backlash, she just wasn’t sure how bad Brittany’s words would sting. She isn’t used to the harshness in Brittany’s tone and she kind of hates that she’s the reason for it.

Still, she pushes forward. She’s determined to fix this, no matter how hard Brittany fights her.

“Okay,” Santana’s voice is meek. “So that was a poor choice of words... ”

“You think?” Brittany replies, her tone thick with sarcasm.

Santana’s instincts have her wanting to retreat. She has clearly messed up big time and everything in her is telling her to just listen to Brittany and leave – yet her feet don’t move.

Maybe she’s hardheaded, maybe she’s too damn stubborn for her own good; whatever it is, she continues to stand her ground.

“I’m here now,” Santana says earnestly. “That has to count for something?”

Brittany shakes her head, “It doesn’t.”

Santana lets out a laugh out of aggravation. Who knew the girl could be just as stubborn as her? Talk about grudges, no wonder no one ever gets on Brittany’s bad side! It’s damn near impossible to get off of it! But Santana’s made proving she can be there for Brittany her new mission so she’s not going anywhere just yet.

“What do you want me to do?” Santana asks dejectedly. “Get on my hands and knees? Beg for your forgiveness?”

“Save your breath,” Brittany replies briskly as she sets down her glass. “I don’t want to be here with someone that would rather be elsewhere and I’m tired of trying to force you to care.”

That one surprisingly hurts a little more than Santana expected, but it doesn’t top the feeling that quickly follows as she watches Brittany begin to turn her back on her.

“Brittany,” Santana finds herself calling out. When the blonde doesn’t stop, Santana calls out to her again. “Britt – “

“No,” Brittany pauses as she looks over her shoulder at Santana. “You were right. You’d just ruin my night. Go home, Santana.”

It’s another blow to the chest as the blonde turns to walk away again. Only this time, Santana kicks into gear. She’s got something to prove and she’s not leaving until she does! She quickly sets down her glass too and reaches out, catching Brittany by the wrist before she gets too far.

“Can you just wait?” Santana pleads.

“What?” Brittany snaps back.

Santana softens as she tucks her tail between her legs, “I’m sorry.”

Brittany looks a little taken aback by the relaxing of her tensed jaw, but it only last for a moment as she looks down at Santana’s hand still around her wrist.

“Okay, great,” Brittany says sarcastically. “Now let me go.”

Brittany doesn’t wait for Santana to loosen her grip and instead shakes Santana off of her. The brunette doesn’t try reaching for her again, but she does take a step closer.

“Hold on,” Santana urges again. “I’m not finished.”

Brittany pauses, taking a wary look back her. Santana can see that she’s wearing her down, but who knows how long it’ll last. There’s no reason for Brittany to give her another chance after having so many, so she has to make this count.

“I thought about what you said,” Santana tells her. “Like I really, really thought about it and I think you might be right.”

Brittany remains looking indifferent and that makes Santana nervous, but she continues on.

“You’re right about this being one sided. You’re right about you putting in most of the work and doing things that benefit me,” Santana says. “You’re right about it all – minus one thing.”

Brittany quirks her brow, “What’s that?”

“I’m not selfish.”

“No?” Brittany scoffs. “Then you must not know the meaning of the word because your past actions would say otherwise.”

Santana sighs, “Yeah, I know but I guess that’s why I’m here…to prove that you’re wrong.”

Brittany softens in the slightest as she listens.

“I haven’t been fair to you,” Santana explains. “You always go above and beyond. I mean, you climbed through a window for me and you’re learning Spanish to get on Abuela’s good side! Like what the hell? Who does that?” Santana pauses when she realizes she’s veering from her point.

“I know I’m still not on your level when it comes to doing the most,” She continues. “But I figured it’s only fair that I do something that I normally wouldn’t just to show you that all you do isn’t for nothing. By coming here tonight, I’m trying to return the favor. This is my metaphorical window and I want to climb through it for you.”

Santana pauses when she realizes how lame she sounds, but maybe this huge fuck up calls for a little lameness. Maybe a lot; whatever works at this point!

Brittany watches Santana for a moment as if she’s trying to decide whether or not Santana’s words have any weight to them. It isn’t the first time she’s said she’d do better, so it’s no surprise Brittany isn’t as quick to accept her apology.

“I don’t really know if I believe you,” She finally says. Her tone has lost most of its bite but Santana knows she’s not in the clear just yet.

“That’s fine,” Santana replies. She stands a little taller, puffs out her chest and says, “I’ll just have to spend all night trying to convince you. You want a perfect fake girlfriend? Well Britt-Britt, you’ve got one.”

There’s the slightest hint of a smile that graces Brittany’s lips and it makes the dimming beacon of hope in Santana begin to shine a little brighter.

“That is,” Santana adds. “If you want me to. I know this night is important for you. I can go if that’s what you really want.”

She bats her eyelashes for the extra touch – because if after all of that Brittany still makes her leave…well that would just be embarrassing. Surprisingly though, it makes Brittany’s smile grow. Santana can tell she’s fighting to keep it small, fighting to keep from giving in, and she takes that as a personal victory.

“You can stay,” Brittany says after making Santana wait a little longer.

Santana beams, “Okay gre – ”

“For now.”

“Okay,” Santana’s grin softens. “I can handle that.”

“I don’t want to fight with you here,” Brittany tells her firmly. “I only want to have a good time and if you try to mess that up then you’re out of here.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” Santana replies.

Brittany holds out her pinky, “Promise?”

Santana eyes her skeptically, “Are you trying to make me pinky promise? What are we twelve?”

“It’s a yes or no question,” Brittany replies flatly – still holding out her pinky.

“Promise,” Santana sighs and curls her pinky around Brittany’s.

Satisfied, Brittany nods and pulls away. While Santana chuckles, she looks over to the direction Mike left.

“So I guess you can go ahead and tell Hot Stuff over there that he doesn’t need to be coming around here anymore too.”

That pulls a genuine laugh out of Brittany who can’t help but smirk at Santana’s comment.

“Shocking; you’re the jealous type.”

Santana lifts her brow, “I’m not. I’m just saying – his assistance as interim date is no longer required if I’m here.”

“I said you can stay for now. I can change my mind at any time.”

Santana’s shoulders droop as she’s once again put back in her place. Brittany notices and smirks.

“He has a date already,” Brittany continues. “His girlfriend. You know her. Tina?”

Santana’s jaw drops a little, “No shit, really?”

“Yeah, they’ve been together for awhile now.”

“Wow, I had no idea. Well good,” Santana lifts her chin. “He can carry his fine ass on over to her and stay there then.”

“You’re really hung up on how people can be both smart and hot,” Brittany points out with a laugh. “Like you and I aren’t also examples of that being a thing.”

“Hold up,” Santana starts to smirk. “Did you just say I’m hot?”

Brittany rolls her eyes, “I mean, you do look nice.”

Santana frowns, “Just nice?”

Brittany eyes her up and down slowly before shrugging, “Yeah, nice. I’m actually surprised you didn’t wear one of your stripper dresses. Guess you won’t be making it rain tonight.”

Santana lets out a laugh. She’s glad Brittany’s back to bantering with her instead of the heavy intensity from before. Maybe they’re not completely back on good terms, but at least it’s better than what it was.

“We’ll see. Those moves are for later,” Santana winks jokingly before giving her compliments. “You clean up pretty good too. I like what you’ve done with your hair. It’s cute.”

Brittany gets a little bashful as she fluffs her softly tussled hair, “Thanks.”

Santana only nods, “Now where’s this elusive open bar I’ve heard so much about? I needs me something other than champagne.”

“Ah, so that’s the real reason you’re here,” Brittany quips.

Santana feels like Brittany’s testing her although her tone remains playful.

“Yeah, but I’m mostly here for you,” Santana replies super sweetly. “I mean, how can I say no to an open bar? I am a broke college student after all.”

Brittany chuckles, “I see your priorities are straight.”

“It’s the only straight thing about me,” Santana jokes before hooking her arm with Brittany’s.

After getting their drinks, the couple roam around the room arm in arm. It’s mostly to keep up appearances; a way to make up for Santana arriving late and to show that Brittany really isn’t here all alone.

She’s surprised by how many come up to greet them – well, greet Brittany. Santana guesses the blonde really is a big deal here after all and everyone happily chats away with her. Who can blame them though? Brittany’s probably the friendliest person Santana knows.

They bump into Mike and Tina again near the giant owl ice sculpture while they make their rounds – because yeah, of course this party has one of those – but the conversation is kept brief with Tina trying to get in as many interviews with everyone before dinner.

Mike tags along after her with a proud smile on his face as he offers to hold her drink and for a second Santana kind of feels a little guilty about having her claws out when they first met. He seems kind, happy to be alongside Tina and Santana finds herself wondering if people get that vibe when she’s with Brittany.

While Santana and Brittany linger by the ice sculpture, Santana notices a small group of people that look a lot like the guys from Brittany’s team. At least the one in the center of it all is for sure. They stick out to her because they’re probably some of the lasts who haven’t come to greet Brittany which seems odd considering she’s their teammate.

Wouldn’t they have been the first to see her? Maybe Santana missed that part since she arrived late, then again judging by how they seemed to shun her at the match they probably haven’t come to say hi on purpose.

Santana quietly watches them though as Brittany chats with another guest about robotics or whatever nerdy talk that goes completely over Santana’s head. She notices how they all gravitate to the one guy in the center and it’s like they hang on his every word. They laugh when he does, they nod when he nods – they’re puppets and he’s the puppet master.

Santana doesn’t realize she’s pulling a face until Brittany bumps her with her elbow.

“Quit it,” Brittany chastises. “People can see you.”

“My bad,” Santana fixes her face and gestures over to the group. “He’s on your team, right? The one in the dusty grandpa sweater.”

Brittany glances in the direction and nods.

Santana wrinkles her nose, “He seems like a tool.”

“He’s not,” Brittany’s quick to defend before softening. “Not really.”

Santana doesn’t looked convinced so Brittany adds.

“He’s a pretty big deal to this community. People say he has one of the most gifted minds in our generation.”

Santana picks up on Brittany’s tone, but she can’t tell whether it’s envy or something entirely different. She knows one thing is for sure though.

“People say that about you too,” Santana tells her honestly. “The whole gifted mind thing.”

Brittany shakes her head and looks to the ground, “No they don’t.”

Her dismissiveness confuses Santana. She’s never not seen Brittany confident in how intelligent she actually is. If there’s one thing Santana knows the blonde is sure about, it’s her smarts. They argue about it all the time! That’s the very foundation of their rivalry, but apparently here that’s not the case.

“Word about his work has travelled all the way to MIT,” Brittany adds. “It’s so impressive.”

“And yet, he never went there. You did,” Santana reminds her as she continues to stare down the guy. She glances to Brittany again skeptically, “Or is he a transfer too?”

“He’s not. But I’m sure he would’ve gotten in easy. His work is…it’s legendary.”

Santana watches Brittany, trying to figure her out. It sounds a lot like admiration rather than envy, but why? How great can this guy possibly be if he has Brittany doubting herself?

“I didn’t know you were such a fan,” Santana comments.

“I just admire him is all,” Brittany says, confirming Santana’s thoughts.

Santana still doesn’t get it though and frowns around the word, “Admire…”

The both of them watch the man chat with the others silently for two very different reasons. The longer Santana stares, the more she kind of wants to punch him. He just has a very punchable face she supposes, especially when he laughs louder than anyone else in the room.

The sound makes Santana grit her teeth while it has the opposite effect on Brittany.

“He’s kind of cute too,” The blonde admits.

“Cute?” Santana raises both brows and laughs. “We looking at the same guy?”

Brittany shrugs, “He’s cute in that boy next door kind of way.”

“Seriously?” Santana snickers. “That Mike guy was kind of cute. Him? He ain’t it.”

Brittany suddenly hardens, “Well it doesn’t matter what you think. Does it?”

Santana’s taken aback.

“It’s not always about looks,” Brittany further chastises. “There’s more to people than that.”

Santana keeps quiet and nods, not wanting to piss Brittany off again. Afterall, her presence is completely dependent on whether or not Brittany wants her around. She can revoke the privilege at any second and Santana would hate to be kicked to the curb because she once again can’t keep her opinions to herself.

“What’d you say his name was again?” She asks a moment later.

“Artie.”

Suddenly something clicks. She remembers the conversation she had with Brittany’s parents at Brittany’s last match and the comment about someone named Artie.

“So that’s who your parents were talking about,” Santana hums.

“Wait what?” Brittany whirls on her. “I’ve mentioned him like twice. What’d they say?”

Santana shrugs, “They said dating me is an upgrade.”

Brittany gives her a look and slumps, “They didn’t say that.”

“No, but it’s true.”

“They clearly don’t know you well enough.”

Santana cringes, “Hey, I’m trying. At least I’m not a tool like that guy.”

“Debatable.”

“Rude.”

They settle into silence again. Santana goes from scanning the crowd to glancing Brittany’s way. She notices how the blonde continues to gravitate towards Artie too, just like one of his puppets. Santana finds it so odd and the curiosity begins to get the better of her.

“So what’s your deal with him?” She asks. “He an ex I need to worry about?”

“No. It’s nothing like that,” Brittany replies.

Santana doesn’t believe that for a second though.

“I sense a story.”

“There isn’t one,” Brittany says with a shrug. “We were friends and now, I don’t know what we are. Things got weird after I was asked to join the robotics team and he wasn’t. We used to study all the time together, but after that happened he kind of kept me at a distance.”

Santana struggles to mask the disdain she has for this guy. He really is a tool if that’s how he acts. But she fights the urge to speak on it, sensing Brittany still has some kind of connection with him.

“Do you like him or something?” Santana wonders.

Brittany shrugs again, “It’s complicated. We’ve got history I guess.”

Santana nods; she can oddly relate to that.

“You know, he was the first friend I made here?” Brittany smiles at the memory. “I was so freaking nervous – you know, new campus and all. I spent extra time trying to get my bearings the day before but I still ended up getting lost on my first day. Artie was the one who took the time to show me around.”

Santana quirks a brow at that, but notices Brittany’s melancholy even more.

“Don’t tell Tina that,” Santana tries to joke. “We’ll have some conflicting stories.”

When Brittany barely gives her a smile, Santana tries again.

“I thought Puck was the one who showed you around?” Santana asks. “That’s how you guys became friends?”

“He was, but Artie was the first.”

“Huh,” Santana glances at the guy and laughs. “He must not have done a very good job then if you still ended up getting lost.”

This time there’s a small that graces Brittany’s lips, but it’s not nearly as big and bright as Santana’s used to. She’ll just have to try harder.

“He also introduced me to the Brainiacs,” Brittany tells her. “It was pretty cool of him. When I was at MIT, it was hard to get into any clubs. Everyone was kind of cliquey, so it was nice to see that things were different here. Everyone on the team was super accepting at first.”

“At first?” Santana questions.

“Yeah,” Brittany starts to frown. “When I first joined, the team was mostly girls and they were really great – super smart and so lovely – but they graduated last year. Now the dynamic’s changed a lot because of all the new people who seem to worship Artie. That’s probably part of the reason for his ego boost.”

Santana turns up her nose at that, but Brittany’s quick to return to the positives.

“But when it’s just us, he’s not so bad. He really looked out for me when I first came to Columbia. He introduced me to the Brainiacs and recommended me for the tutoring gig,” Brittany tells her. “We used to work together all the time until I got into this fake relationship with you.”

“Sorry not sorry,” Santana quips, but Brittany doesn’t really laugh at that. So Santana softens, a little intrigued by Brittany’s past, “So after all that time spent together, nothing ever happened between you two?”

“No,” Brittany replies. “I don’t think it ever would anyway.”

“Because you’re taken or…”

Brittany sighs at the joke, “Like I said, things got weird after I joined the robotics team. It was like the first time I did something for myself without his help or recommendation and I guess it rubbed him the wrong way?”

“You’re friends, aren’t you?” Santana questions. “Why would he feel some type of way about you branching out?”

“I don’t know,” Brittany shrugs. “Maybe I’m looking too much into things? Maybe he really doesn’t feel the same way about me.”

Santana shakes her head and stares at Artie again, “Well it looks like on top of being a tool, he’s an idiot too.”

Then almost as if he was summoned, Artie looks their way.

Santana finds herself straightening up, trying to stand taller, trying to seem more intimidating, but it doesn’t look like it deters the guy as he begins his journey over.

“Brittany,” Artie greets with a nod. “Hi.”

Brittany smiles, “Hey Artie.”

He then looks to Santana and gives her a curious look full of judgement. It has Santana clenching her teeth, trying her hardest to maintain character when all she wants to do is roll the guy into the giant owl ice sculpture.

“Who’s this?” He asks Brittany as if Santana can’t hear.

Santana breaks slightly and scoffs, “You know how I am.”

Artie raises his brow and looks expectantly to Brittany.

“This is my girlfriend, Santana,” Brittany introduces. “I’ve mentioned her to you before.”

“Right,” Artie looks to Santana again. “I thought you weren’t going to come.”

Santana stares back challengingly, “I bet your hear that a lot.”

Artie sits back in his chair with this smug look on his face, “Funny. She’s funny.”

“It’s one of my many top notch qualities,” Santana fires back before looking to Brittany. Her arm goes around her waist, “Ain’t that right, babe?”

It takes a moment for Brittany to play along, but then she’s smiling and melting into Santana’s side, “Yeah. Totally.”

Artie only eyes the two though, out of suspicion or jealousy – Santana’s unsure. She’s hoping for the latter, because it seems like no one’s ever put him in his place before. Santana’s just the girl for the job!

“So do you think the team is going to get the top spot, Artie?” Brittany asks, trying to keep things light. “It was a lot of close matches this year, I hope our percentage is enough to pull us through.”

Artie shakes his head, almost like he’s disappointed. “I don’t know. Several of those matches shouldn’t have been that close. You really should’ve spent more time studying.”

Santana’s brows rise, but she remains quiet – looking to Brittany to see her reaction. To her surprise, the blonde looks just as remorseful.

“Yeah, you’re right. I think I was having an off day.”

“I think you had a lot of those,” Artie quips. “Too busy with the robotics team maybe?”

Santana scoffs, “Is he joking?”

But Brittany doesn’t say anything so Santana keeps quiet too.

“Some competitors take a little while to warm up,” Artie continues. “You just aren’t a seasoned contender like I am. You know I hold the record for fastest buzz in during my rookie season?”

“I know.”

“No one’s come close to beating it,” Artie flaunts. “We might’ve made state if you didn’t botch the science round during the last match. Maybe I should’ve taken the turn instead.”

Brittany nods and Santana can tell she’s trying to take his criticism constructively – only problem is that it’s not constructive at all. It’s completely condescending and uncalled for.

“Hold up, no,” Santana finds herself interrupting which seems to surprise the pair. “Brittany killed it during the finals or whatever you call it. She was buzzing in when no one else on your little team was. Not even you knew those answers, so what I think you need to be doing is thanking her.”

“For what?” Artie challenges.

“For carrying the team obviously. No way you would’ve gotten far if it wasn’t for her.”

Brittany looks a little shocked by the way Santana stands up for her, but Santana barely notices – too busy willing Artie to step out of line again.

And he does, with an arrogant laugh, he brushes Santana off.

“But the time it took her to buzz in is what we lose points for,” Artie explains. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand how academic decathlons work. They’re not like your cheerleading competitions, we actually have to use our brains.”

“Artie,” Brittany chastises but he’s unfazed.

Meanwhile Santana’s eyes are wide with surprise. The nerve, the audacity – it’s unbelievable!

“I’m sorry,” Santana starts to lean forward, getting down on his level. “Are you jealous that you can’t possibly possess both brains and brawn?”

Artie shifts in his chair and tries to evade Santana’s eye, but she’s so close now that he can’t avoid her.

“Or do you feel threatened by it?” Santana presses. “Threatened because this cheerleader’s GPA is something you’ve only dreamt of having and I didn’t have to waste away in a musty old library to get it? Tell me, Wheels, who was it again that was on track to be valedictorian until Brittany came along because I don’t remember seeing your name anywhere on the list.”

Artie’s face goes a little red that time; out of embarrassment or anger, Santana doesn’t care. All she cares about is making sure that he knows he isn’t shit and there’s no way he’ll talk to Brittany like that while she’s around.

There’s only one person in the world that can pick on Brittany and that’s her.

“The keyword is was,” He retorts.

“The keyword is you’re a prick,” Santana bites back just as fiercely.

“Okay,” Brittany cuts in. She gives Santana a little tug until she can curl an arm around her waist, “I think that’s enough of that.”

Artie continues to look shaken, but he does his best to mask it. Trying to be as macho as he can while in that turtleneck sweater he must’ve stolen from his grandfather’s closet. Safe to say it doesn’t fool Santana one bit.

“Well, I can see why you like her, Britt,” Artie comments with a glance in Santana’s direction. “She’s fiery.”

“She’s also this close to going all Lima He– “

“Santana,” Brittany scolds again.

There’s a pleading look in her eye that has Santana softening. She remembers what Brittany said earlier about tonight being fun and not wanting to fight, so Santana let’s Brittany pull her back. She settles, but it feels like it’s only the calm before the storm.

Artie notices too and puts on a smug grin, “Come to think of it, I have heard your name floating around on campus. Santana Lopez; the girl can’t be tied down to save her life.”

“Well Brittany’s changed that,” Santana quips. “Hasn’t she?”

“Hmm,” Artie nods but the stare he gives her is almost analytical. “It’s not really a pairing I would’ve pictured considering your history.” He then looks to Brittany and frowns, “I’m pretty sure you once told me that she couldn’t possibly have any redeeming qualities.”

Santana tries looking unfazed, but she can’t lie and say that comment didn’t sting. One look at Brittany and she can sense the guilt, but she keeps it hidden from Artie. Santana can’t hold it against Brittany though if she did say something like that about her, there’s been many times she’s complained about the blonde to Puck too.

But that was before they got to know each other, that was before they had to work together to emulate this perfect couple.

“Looks like I was wrong about that,” Brittany replies behind a smile that’s directed at Santana. She squeezes a little at the brunette’s waist, “Who would’ve known, opposites really do attract?”

Santana chuckles, remembering saying something similar during a conversation with Tina months ago.

“It sure took me by surprise,” Santana adds before glancing to Artie. “Guess I have some pretty redeeming qualities after all.”

Artie hums again with this contemplative look on his face, but he doesn’t rock the boat any further. He just nods and says, “Well this was fun. I guess I’ll leave you two to enjoy the Ball.”

Santana sneers at him while Brittany bids him goodbye.

“Oh. By the way Britt,” Artie pauses and glances back. “You look really great.”

Santana raises a brow at the compliment.

She wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but there’s the slightest little smirk on his dumb face as he says it and it has Santana feeling hot. Even if Brittany isn’t her actual girlfriend, what the hell? Who compliments another person’s date right in front of them? It seems as though Artie knows exactly what he’s doing, but given her promise to Brittany she’ll bite her tongue – for now.

While Brittany ducks her head in thanks, Santana stays quiet – waiting until Artie is out of sight before she can finally let down her guard and say what’s really on her mind.

#hate to date #brittana #brittana fanfiction #enemies to lovers #fake dating au

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loquaciousquark · 4 years

Text

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E111 (Redux! Oct. 13, 2020)

Gooooood evening good evening good evening, all! I started the VOD late for this recap and somehow the first four or so minutes of the show have a Twitch audio copyright claim, so I am reduced to only reading Brian's lips when he asks if we're on the internet. Hilariously, Marisha's background room is a comfy-looking blue/gold fabric wall with a ceramic colorful abstract lamp and a yellow silk scarf over the lampshade, and Taliesin's is an industrial looking games room in grey and black with multiple monitors, overhead speakers, and mysterious metal fixtures behind him. What a treasure this group is, honestly.

Tonight's guests: Marisha Ray & Taliesin Jaffe, discussing episodes 110 and 111 again. I wildly speculate once more about what might have caused their absence: jury duty? Sam appearing on The Masked Singer? Something to do with the animated show? One day, we’ll know, one day... (One day this “copyrighted audio” section will come back from the wars, too. Ugh!) Finally! The audio comes back to reveal Brian discussing the endless reality of digital meetings and Marisha talking about (I think) her glare-reducing glasses she’s wearing. Welcome to the New Age (welcome to the New Age, to the New Age).

Announcements: Marisha suggests checking out Dimension20, another live tabletop gaming group, which premieres live on Wednesdays at 4pm (CollegeHumor).

Brian immediately wants to know how they feel about the revelation that Molly is alive. Taliesin’s personal reaction: he “knows some things” he can’t talk about and is aware of several possibilities that might be going on, but had a sneaking suspicion that there would not be a body for them to find. He says it’s almost all there for anyone to see in past material. Marisha’s personal reaction: she just wants to know how she’s doing with her theories, & was trying to block Tal’s face out deliberately as she was going off on her theories in the last episode. Taliesin says he thought her ideas were pretty good!

Cad has no clue what to think - it’s like listening to your friends talk about Buffy. Marisha thought it was a 50/50 Molly would still be there, but Beau had no idea. Not that it mattered, because as soon as Matt went through with it the reveal still blew their minds. Tal laid out his plans for the character with Matt during Campaign One (towards the end) after they all got their VM tattoos.

It is a “horrifying and gross” thing to dig up a body, and Beau was pretty reluctant to do it. Tal, as Cad: “Sometimes dead’s better.” The moral quandary of trying to speak with a dead friend was very different here than the frequent occasions they used the spell in C1.

Taliesin says his poker face is very bad, so it’s easier for him to over-react and let it all play out. The only other player he can see very easily from his place in their current setup is Travis, and because he knows Travis doesn’t watch TM, tweet, or participate in social media, he admits he thoroughly enjoyed watching Travis freak out at his freaking out. He says he only knew about 20% of what Matt described at the end of that episode. He was picking things to mug to increase Travis’s surprise. I love this so much.

Taliesin provided the table left leg shake; Travis provided table right. Ha!

Beau is really accepting her role in the Cobalt Soul. It’s good when “as a person, you feel like you can settle into your calling. Sometimes you can do more from the inside than fighting from the outside.” It’s a mirrored but opposite path of Keyleth from C1; Beau felt like she was too good for her duty, while Keyleth thought she wasn’t good enough.

Caduceus is not a big believer in jumping to conclusions. He does have an idea/notion of the “city of the undead” and thinks all this necrotic energy must come from somewhere, and wonders if this is the “capital of anti-death.” He’s willing to believe whatever he sees. This is one of the few things that trigger a bit of loathing and disgust in him. It was terrifying that the Wildmother didn’t know anything.

Beau is pretty confident in her Charlie Day impression laying-out-the-research last episode. She enjoyed taking the things that were known & extrapolating around them; this is a huge facet of Marisha’s own personality and she really enjoys it, so she built a character this time that would allow that kind of puzzle-solving. It’s also why she repeatedly notes when Beau journals, so she can avoid metagaming. Trent’s mention of Vess Durogna’s tomb raiding was completely circumstantial, and the only reason she’d made the connection to the Tombtakers was because she’d recently reviewed those notes for a separate unannounced project. Sometimes she tries to make connections and Matt is like, “It was...just descriptive. Just flavor. The curtains were red...” and she has to discard a paragraph of notes. She feels like it’s still something they have to do because of “look at what he does! Look! It’s totally valid!”

Cosplay of the Week: @kitsunstudios with a gorgeous Caduceus with a very intricate silk vest.

Caduceus’s takedown of Trent! One of my favorite moments in the entirety of C2. Taliesin felt Trent was an asshole; Caduceus felt sorry for him because of how dumb he thought he was. Caduceus’s response was "this is the dumbest man I’ve ever met in my life. He’s so dumb! Is nobody going to tell this guy how dumb he is? Oh, they’re all freaked out. Somebody needs to tell this guy he’s an idiot before somebody gets hurt.” (Marisha: “Before?”) Tal says it was the product of several years of therapy and many drunk conversations with Whitney Moore. It was from a genuine place of concern from Caduceus. “How are you allowed to have this much power and be that dumb?”

Brian loved how funny it was to watch everyone tiptoe around Trent and then Caduceus bulldoze through the end of the meal.

Taliesin: “Damage doesn’t make you interesting or better. It’s not what makes you good. Character isn’t found in damage. Just recovery.”

Brian & Marisha commiserate going through the stage where believing surviving something automatically made you a stronger person, better for the pain; instead it just meant you had to pick up the pieces after. Marisha talks about how strength through survival may be true for some people, but it shouldn’t be considered a necessity. Taliesin talks about how he used to think he had to be miserable to write. Brian talks about how believing he liked reading and writing miserable things only limited him for years.

Marisha feels it’s a C2 theme that almost all the PCs have someone trying to handwave or take credit for their accomplishments or explain their pain as being for their own good (Trent, Beau’s dad, Obann). She thinks it’s interesting to see all the various ways people try to take credit for your work/delegitimize you as a person. She loves that RPGs allow you to explore these odd moralities in interesting ways. The only way to fight it is to have a sense of your own self-worth, which is a problem a lot of the M9 started with.

Caduceus likes everyone, and really likes people who appear to need role models (Eodwulf). “With the right friends and the right bar and the right attitude, I think he’d be okay. Come over here where it’s so much better. That seems like an exhausting friendship that you have there.”

Marisha loves the mix of personalities in the M9; Veth, Cad, & Jester were all “we kind of like them!” after the dinner, and she immediately made eye contact with Travis and they both shook their heads. She knows Beau has to go along with it for Caleb’s sake for now, but she & Fjord are pretty sus of Trent’s proteges.

Beau is less concerned about Artagan’s relationship to Jester because “he showed his ass--she’s less worried about Jester now because a little of the magic is gone.” It’s a little like becoming an adult and realizing your parents are also just adults & human. Caduceus wasn’t suspicious of the Traveler for a long time until they got to the island. Aside: Taliesin loves the pantheon in D&D. “The notion of attempting to apply common Western conceptions of religion to a world where you have a pantheon of interventionist gods as baseline makes no sense to me. Everyone admits that every other god is there and doing shit; it has more in common with ancient Rome than anything else.” Now that he knows it was a con, he feels the wind had been taken out of it. He does have a sense that Jester’s gotten back together with an ex: “I hope that I’m really happy for you.” They’re both interested to see how Jester navigates the new relationship.

My internet goes out, of course. I panic for a second, thinking I’ve lost everything above, but all is well! Thanks, Form History Control addon!

Marisha loved punching Artagan, but regretting rolling so poorly. “I miss violence.” Dani lets us know it’s been about four episodes since the last battle.

There’s no way the Cobalt Reserve doesn’t have a single document on the Eyes of Nine. Beau believes “there are no real secrets” because people are just bad at not writing things down. For there to be no information at all seems really suspicious for her.

Fanart of the Week: @oddalchemist on twitter with some awesome Beau conspiracy red-thread boards overlaid a distant shadowy Molly walking away.

Caduceus feels a little guilty for really enjoying his time right now with the M9 and not wanting to go home. He’s starting to suspect that he’s going to go home very different than when he left. “He has the softest problems. I don’t know if I want to move back in with Mom & Dad.”

Beau is trying to get comfortable with the idea of being happy. Jester is probably Beau’s first real best friend & one of the first healthy female friendships she’s ever had. As long as she still has Jester in her life, she doesn’t care. For Yasha... “At the end of the day, Beau is a lonely person and has always been a lonely person. And I think you kinda reach this point where once you’re not lonely anymore, you can kind of come out of the fog and realize that was horrible! And terrifying! And is even more terrifying now that I know what I could have, and I don’t want to go back to that. At the end of the day Beau doesn’t want to be lonely anymore. There’s always been that flirtation with Yasha, but everyone had to figure their own shit out. And now it feels like it’s coming out a little bit of that haze, maybe this actually could be...” There are a lot of ways they complement each other & are good-different from each other. Marisha believes people can be attracted to more than person at once.

Caduceus doesn’t think nature turned against him on Rumblecusp, it was just a reality of nature being dangerous and violent. “He has a complex relationship with nature.” He doesn’t expect special treatment.

Thoughts on the mansion: “Man, it’s nice to be seen.” Marisha: “I don’t know how I ended up becoming the Scanlan of this campaign, but I’m living for it.” It felt like an echo of “I’m better for having known you.” They compare Marisha taking specific notes on the campaign to Liam taking specific notes on people’s favorite tapestries, comics, etc.

They talk about missing theme parks and daydream a park version of the mansion in CritRoleLand. It’s lovely.

Taliesin never expected Divine Intervention to work; he just wanted to roll some dice. He’s still processing what he saw/heard. They all agree it was very useful in the Vokodo fight.

Vilya! Marisha: “Ah! Ah! Ah!” As a player, Marisha was so deep in Beau’s eyes she didn’t pick up it was Vilya at first (especially since Matt really emphasized they should not be looking for C1 NPCs). Marisha’s brain melted. She bawled her eyes out on the ride home after that episode. Right after it ended, Laura told Marisha “Keyleth finally gets her happy ending,” and it makes Marisha emotional again since Keyleth’s story ended so bittersweetly. She talks about the very real feelings of “just wanting them to be happy, though!” She went back and listened to all her old Keyleth playlists. Everyone was teary after the episode. “Everyone has these 100% real memories of being these characters and having these good times.”

And that’s that for that! Thanks for your patience, all, and is it Thursday yet?

#critical role #critical role spoilers #talks machina #talks machina spoilers #long post for ts

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silver-renjun · 3 years

Text

Cafe 7 Dream: Jaemin

Word Count: 2, 443

Warnings: violence, mentions of death, stabbing

Read the prologue before reading this!

You headed into you 8 am class late as usual. After pulling out your notebook from your bag, you threw yourself down on the desk.

“Busy night, y/n?” Jaemin asked. You and Jaemin didn’t really talk that much at all. At the cafe, Jaemin was always in his own world, and in class he just stared at the board, though you doubted he actually remembered anything from the lectures. It was strange that Jaemin started a conversation with you, but it was also strange that you were resting on the desk. No matter how exhausted you were, you took notes, albeit sloppy.

“I had 3 essays to write. Two of which I didn’t even know existed until Haechan texted me for my work,” you replied.

“You should be more responsible, y/n. I need someone reliable to cheat off of,” Haechan said. You rolled your eyes at his reply and groaned. You didn’t have the energy to argue with him.

“You should just rest, y/n. I’ll take notes for you and we can review them after class today,” Jaemin said. He smiled at you, but you were fast asleep.

After class, Jaemin shaked your shoulder to wake you up.

“y/n! y/n! Everyone already left the class. It’s time to go,” Jaemin whispered in your ear.

“Where are the other guys?” you asked with a breathy voice.

“They’re at the cafe already. I’m sure they’ll be fine without us. Let’s go to the library.”

Jaemin helped you up your seat and packed your books in you bag. He even offered to carry it for you, but you declined. Jaemin held your hand as the two of you walked over to the library. He was still worried about how tired you were and didn’t want you to fall.

The library was filled with students trying to study. Jaemin led you to a secluded corner in the back.

You dropped your bag down and asked, “are you sure they’ll manage without us in the cafe?”

“You’re the one who should be drinking an americano, not the one making it.” Jaemin smiled at you and reached out for your hand. “Don’t worry about the cafe right now.”

Jaemin lectured the content of the class to you. He was a natural at explaining everything. Even when you had a question about the topic, Jaemin was able to answer them with ease. As you copied down your notes, you were surprised to find yourself understanding the content better when Jaemin was teaching you.

At the end of the session you said, “You take such good notes! And remember everything from class too! I’m impressed. We should totally do this more often.”

“Well I still have to work at the cafe to pay my tuition, but I’ll definitely help you out, y/n.”

“Yeah, working at the cafe is my destresser. I wouldn’t want to give that up,” you chuckled. “Maybe you could come over to my place after work and we can study then.”

The next day, you were late to class once again. You rushed over to your seat, but this time you didn’t pull out your books. You knew Jaemin had you covered, so you plopped your head down on the desk for some rest.

“y/n, I need you to start taking this class seriously,” Haechan said. “I need to pass, you know.”

You knew that replying to Haechan was just provoke him into arguing with you, so let his comment slide.

“You’re super late this time, y/n. I was almost certain that Renjun’s vision about your death had finally happened,” Jisung said.

Jisung’s remark was just too strange to ignore. Your head shot up and you gave Jisung a raised eyebrow.

“What the hell does that mean?”

A look of realization took over Jisung’s face before he looked down at the floor. “Sorry about that guys,” he whispered.

The other boys all exchanged uncomfortable glances as if they were trying to figure out who would explain what had been said about you. Finally, Jaemin broke the silence.

“We can talk at the cafe.” The boys had slightly less uncomfortable looks on their faces, but they still appeared to be worried about something. You decided to not stress over it. Your priority was catching up on your sleep.

After class, you and the dreamies headed out to the cafe and started preparing before customers arrived.

You were wiping down tables when you asked, “so is anyone going to explain to me what happened this morning?” You knew you were going to be working with Jaemin, and that boy was like a rock when got to work. This was your only opportunity to get answers.

“Look, you’re not going to believe us at all,” Mark started.

“We’ve got magic powers,” Haechan said.

“You see y/n, Jisung’s a wizard. He makes love potions so people will fall in love with our cafe,” Jaemin explained. While he was talking, Jisung pulled out a pink liquid from under the counter and waved it at you. You had no energy to question them so you just let Jaemin continue.

“And Jeno, he’s a water spirit. Do a little trick for us Jeno,” Jaemin said. Jeno formed a ball of water in his hand and shifted it into different shapes.

“What the-” was all you could muster up. “That water just came out of thin air! And you’re controlling it!”

“Like I was saying, y/n, it’s all magic.” Jaemin smiled at the look of wonder on your face. “Next up we have Renjun. Care to explain yourself Renjun?”

Renjun groaned before saying, “I’m an oracle. I see the future. And your future has an attack in it. I didn’t see you die like Jisung said, but since you’re a human, you’re probably going to-”

“Alright that’s enough,” Jaemin said, cutting Renjun off before he could tell you more about your fate. You were so amazed by Jeno’s abilites that you weren’t even fazed by what Renjun had said.

“What about you Jaemin?” you said with a smile.

“I’m human and so is Mark. We know our way around magic pretty well though,” Jaemin said with a self-satisfied grin.

“And Chenle and Haechan?” you asked, eager to learn more.

“None of your business,” Chenle replied harshly. Chenle’s tone snapped you out of your amazement and made you serious about your work again. Jaemin, like usual, didn’t talk much during his shift, so you would have to wait until the cafe was closed to get more answers.

“Hey Jaemin,” you said as you were heading out the cafe. “Does tonight work for you?”

The boys all looked at each other with wide eyes. They had no idea about your study plans with Jaemin.

“Any night works for me,” Jaemin replied as he followed you out the cafe. You could hear the giggles of the boys even when you were standing outside. Jaemin looked at you with an embarrassed smile before holding your hand and following you home.

At your apartment, Jaemin got to lecturing you once again. He made sure you understood every topic covered in class in full detail. You were still amazed by how good of a teacher Jaemin turned out to be.

After he finished talked Jaemin said, “well that’s everything we learned today. Got any questions, y/n?”

“About the coursework, no. About magic, yes.”

“Magic happens to be my strong suit, so ask away,” he replied with a smile.

“Well Chenle and Haechan didn’t really explain their powers. Do you know what they are?”

“Nope,” Jaemin said, shaking his head. “Chenle’s family is pretty influential in the magic world, so revealing their powers is kind of a security risk for them. Whatever Chenle does, I bet he’s pretty strong at it though.” Jaemin paused for a second. “As for Haechan, he hasn’t really gotten his powers yet. He’s kind of touchy about it since most people get their powers by this age.”

You nodded your head in agreement, though you had no idea how it all worked.

“So what about you Jaemin?” you said in playful tone as you poked his shoulder.

“What about me?” Jaemin replied, mimicking your voice and poking you back.

“What’s your relation with magic?” you said with a smile.

Jaemin’s face became serious. He took a minute to think before replying to you.

“It’s a family thing,” was all he said. You decided to not press him any further about magic.

“You know, Jaemin, it’s really not that late. If you’re down, you could stay and watch some Netflix. I’ve got some leftover pizza in the fridge too.”

“That’s a great idea! I know so many good dramas that are on Netflix!”

You microwaved a few slices of pizza while Jaemin picked out a show to watch on Netflix. It turned out, alongside having a coffee obsession, Jaemin was also obsessed with period dramas. He talked nonstop about the characters and kept on playing episode after episode. It wasn’t until you two had finished the first season at 1 am did Jaemin say, “it might be getting a little late now.”

He looked over to you for a response, but you had already passed out on the sofa. Jaemin stared at your sleeping figure and admired your beauty.

“Since you’re sleeping I might as well tell you this now. I don’t know if I’ll ever have the confidence to tell you this when you’re awake. I really like you, y/n. I think you’re the most amazing person in the world. I’d give anything to be with you.”

Jaemin sighed and went to sleep on your floor. Unknown to him, you had actually been listening the entire time.

It became a habit for you and Jaemin to study at your place after work. Jaemin would lecture you for a while, and then you would order delivery food to thank him for helping you. After watching Netflix, Jaemin would sometimes even sleep over at your place.

One night, you and Jaemin were cuddling on the sofa while watching a drama. Jaemin looked over a you and said, “There’s some things I should tell you, y/n.”

You smiled, expecting Jaemin to confess to you. What you heard was not a confession of love.

“You wanted to know about my connection with magic, so here it is. My mom used to sell plants, mushrooms, stuff you would use in potions. I would go foraging with her in the forest so we could find things to sell. Our customers were kind to us, they would even give us part of the potions they made. One day, this fire demon came into the store and gave my mother a potion to drink. She collapsed on the floor. The fire demon killed her and used her blood for a sacrifice.”

Jaemin began to cry as he thought about what had happened to his mother. You pulled him into a tight hug and rubbed his head. You felt sorry for Jaemin, who had to live his life in so much pain.

After a few more study sessions, Jaemin finally pulled himself together and asked you out.

“I really like you, y/n. I think you’re the most amazing person in the world. I’d give anything to be with you.”

“That’s the same thing you said when I was sleeping. You’re so cute,” you said, kissing him on the forehead.

Jaemin stared at you with wide eyes and said, “wait you heard that? You knew I liked you and you didn’t even say anything?”

You laughed at Jaemin before turning on his favorite show and cuddling with him.

The next day at the cafe, you were supposed to be working with Jisung, but he had gotten sick. You and Haechan were taking over for him.

“Hey y/n, you’ve never seen the potions room before, right?” Haechan said. You nodded in reply. “It’s crazy in there. You totally have to check it out.”

You followed Haechan into the back of the cafe where all the potions were. You were amazed at the amount of potions there was in the back room. Haechan grabbed a vial off a rack and handed it to you.

“You should try this one y/n! It’ll make you feel so energized!” Haechan said.

You opened the vial and drunk all of the strange liquid inside. Unlike what Haechan had said, you began to feel sleepy and collapsed on the floor. When you looked at Haechan for help, you noticed that he had a knife in his hand.

“Be good for me and don’t make any noise, okay?” Haechan said before slashing your skin with the knife. You couldn’t help but cry with all the pain you were feeling. You slowly became more tired until you passed out.

When you woke up, you found yourself in a hospital bed. Jaemin was standing beside you and held onto your hand.

“Oh my gosh! y/n, baby, you’re alive!” Jaemin said before tearing up.

“What happened?” you asked.

“Haechan poisoned you. He cut you for your blood. He used it for a ritual to summon his powers. He had already transformed before we could even help you. Haechan’s a fire demon.”

You wanted to say something, but you had no idea what to do. The whole situation was just like what had happened to his mother. You and Jaemin were both thinking the same thing, but neither of you wanted to say it.

A few days later, you were discharged from the hospital. Although you felt fine after your rest, Jaemin was the one who was truly hurting. Jaemin stopped going to class and the cafe because of Haechan. He just stayed at your apartment.

“Jaemin, you need to forgive him. I’m not hurt. I’m completely fine!” you argued.

“I can’t forgive him! That bastard nearly killed you!” Jaemin yelled at you.

“Whether you like it or not, you’ve got to start living like a normal person again! You can’t just run away from your problems!”

Jaemin began to laugh.

“You’re right, y/n. I’m going to make that scumbag pay for what he did.”

Select another route

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krreader · 4 years

Text

SEVENTEEN scenario → seeing a foreign reader and being smitten with her.

pairing: seventeen x reader fandom: seventeen warnings: / genre: fluff word count: 1.7k+

a/n: one of the requests that has been sitting in my inbox for a long time, I’m very sorry it took this long, but I hope you like it, my love!

choi seungcheol

As their leader, this wasn't just amazing for him to be here, but to experience his band member's reaction to it.

Billboard Music Awards.

They really did that.

Seungcheol looked around with the biggest smile on his face, when he spotted you. You were on the red carpet, but you weren't a performer. It seemed more like you were one of the staff members working.

Still, Seungcheol continued staring until you finally noticed.

You smiled, brightly so, but he was super embarrassed and looked away, but only for a small moment.

He knew that he couldn't approach you, not here, not when all eyes were on him and his members. But he hoped he had the chance to talk to you later in the evening... when it was, hopefully, only you and him at some point.

yoon jeonghan

Korea was freaking cold right now and he wasn't into that.

He'd much rather be inside, under a blanket and with a bunch of candles burning, than in this freezing cold, waiting for the shoot to finally be over.

But then an angel came.

Quite literally – for him at least.

“Here,” you handed him a steaming hot tea, “You look like you need it.”

From the looks of your uniform, you seemed to be from the nearby café. He had heard that it was a foreign café, but he hadn't thought that foreigners were working in there, since it was usually always Koreans working in these places. Not that it mattered much to him. He still stared at you like an idiot, not grabbing the tea because he was too busy studying your features.

You smiled, but weren't sure what to do.

Thankfully, Joshua saw the situation before it could get even more awkward and grabbed the tea out of your hand with a: “He appreciates it, thank you very much.”

And even when you left, Jeonghan still stared after you.

“Hyung has a crush,” Joshua quickly started teasing.

joshua hong

It was only a two-week break, but Joshua still decided to fly back to L.A. to visit some family and friends.

However, his plans got completely turned upside down when he met you the second day that he was back in L.A.

“Did you guys get a new neighbor?” he asked his cousin as he stared at you getting the groceries out of your car.

“Ah, yeah. Her name's (Y/N). She's super cool, man. You should go and say hi!”

“I don't think that's a good..-” but you already caught him staring and there was no going back anymore. You started smiling and straightened your back, before saying: “Hey, do you guys mind helping me move this inside the house? It's a little heavy.”

But before Joshua could say anything, his cousin already started shoving him towards you with a grin, “My cousin would love to help you.”

wen junhui

Los Angeles truly was the city of angels. That's what he thought when he found you standing next to him, waiting to cross the road with him.

You noticed right away, smiled instantly.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” he smiled back at you, but that's about all he could do.

Maybe you thought that he'd say something else, but he didn't. All he could do was stare. And no, this had nothing to do with the language barrier, this was simply because he was too busy staring and his brain didn’t work properly anymore at that moment.

At first, you were disappointed, especially after the lights turned green and you crossed the road, but when you felt someone's hand on your shoulder, you smiled once again.

“I'm... Junhui. And... you?”

kwon soonyoung

This was their last night here, they'd be flying back tomorrow morning.

And of course, this had to be the night where he found someone that he'd love nothing more than to talk to.

Your friend that you were at dinner with had noticed him staring, whispered something into your ear and then got up, walking straight towards Soonyoung.

“She's interested too,” is what she whispered to him before leaving.

And when Soonyoung looked back at you, you were smiling at him.

It might have only been one night, but it was.. one of the best nights he's ever had, hands down.

jeon wonwoo

At first, Wonwoo hadn't even seen you. He was busy paying for his Americano, but when he heard someone speak English next to him, he instantly raised his head, just out of curiosity.

And boy, did he not regret that decision.

You were downright beautiful, glowing, almost. You seemed happy, conversed with the lady at the counter with ease, despite the language barrier between you two.

And when you noticed and smiled back at him, it was completely over for him.

“Uhm.. excuse me?” the lady holding out his cash asked for the third time, after he hadn't heard the first two times, because he was too busy staring into your eyes.

He blushed like crazy.

But you thought it was really endearing. That is actually why you ran after him and were courageous enough to ask him for his number.

lee jihoon

This was... an unusual sight, to say the least.

Jihoon was pretty sure that he knew every single staff member in this company by now, but he definitely would have seen you around before. You had to be new.

“Who is she?” he asked his manager as they were waiting for the elevator to come.

“Ah, that's (Y/N). She's from (Y/H/C). One of the higher-ups thought she'd be a good addition.”

“Who.. who is she going to work with?” he was still staring and when you noticed and smiled, walking towards him, he started to panic a little, “Manager? Who.. who is she going to work with?”

But when he turned around, the manager was already gone and when he was face to face with you, you said: “Hi! You must be Jihoon? I heard you and I are going to be working together from now on!” well, he got his answer.

lee seokmin

Seokmin was standing outside of a café, waiting for the rest of his members to come out, when he noticed this really cute bookstore right next to it.

Originally, he only wanted to check out the books, but then was way more fascinated with who he found standing inside the shop.

He was staring, not even trying to hide it and even when you noticed, he didn't stop, merely smiled like you did.

“Should we.. tell him we're done?” one of the others asked when they got out and saw him having this... connection.

“No, he'll be fine. Let him enjoy this.”

kim mingyu

Mingyu was confident in himself when it came down to looks, if he wanted to, he could probably sweep any lady off her feet in a matter of seconds.

However, no matter how good looking he was, his English skills were lacking and whereas he would have approached you within a minute if you were in Korea, he now just stared at you with an open mouth, too afraid to talk to you because he wouldn't be able to express what he wanted to say to you.

But maybe that was okay.

Because when you noticed him staring, you smiled. Not shyly, but almost in a welcoming matter. That smile gave him the confidence that he needed to walk over to you after all and even though it wasn't easy, he still managed to have a conversation with you and, even better, score a date with you later tonight.

xu minghao

You might think that doing something like this on tour was boring, but during a stressful time such as this one, this relaxed Minghao the most.

Just sitting in a café, watching people, and reading a book. Especially when it was a foreign café as small as this one, when he was sure that nobody would notice or care about him. He could just be himself.

“Excuse me? Here's your order,” you placed it on the table in front of him, but hesitated when Minghao continued staring at you. You smiled a little, though unsure, “Is.. everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he shook his head, then started laughing about himself, “Thank you.”

Oh, he was in deep shit.

“Everything is great, actually,” he added with a happy smile.

boo seungkwan

Originally, Seungkwan had planned on watching all the drama episodes that he had previously downloaded onto his phone, but then you ended up sitting next to him on the plane and there was nothing else he could focus on except for you.

And, honestly, it was a little creepy, to say the least. Because he wasn't even trying to pretend like he wasn't staring.

In the end, you turned your head and smiled a little, “Excuse me, but can I... help you?”

“Oh, sorry!” he quickly said, “You're pretty,” but when he smiled so endearingly, all you could do was giggle.

And that is how the conversation began.

hansol vernon choi

Vernon was downright amazed by you.

They were having this really cool shoot at the beach today and you and a couple of friends were playing Volleyball at a nearby net.

It wasn't even that you were really good at it – and if you were, he just couldn't focus on that, because he was busier noticing other things – but your energy made him want to get up and play with you.

One of your friends must have noticed, because she whispered something in your ear and a moment later you turned around and stared right back.

He thought about quickly turning around and pretending like he hadn't just stared at you for about ten minutes, but was glad that he didn't when you started waving him over.

In the end, him and a few of his band members ended up joining you guys for a match during their break and he ended up with more than just your name.

lee chan

Seungkwan and him were out for dinner, just the two of them after a busy and stressful day.

And it was nice, you know? He got good food, had a little bit to drink... it was just.. nice.

And then it became even better when two girls sat down at the table next to them, one of them being you, and Chan nearly spit out his drink because he really hadn't expected to see someone this pretty tonight and definitely not a foreigner in this traditional restaurant in the depths of Seoul.

You instantly started giggling, even more so when Chan quickly wiped his mouth and then continued smiling.

And so what started out as a dinner for two, ended up with the four of you having an incredibly fun night together, laughing, eating and drinking.

And... a bit more for you and Chan.

#seventeen imagine #seventeen reaction #seventeen scenario #seventeen x reader #seventeen #kpop imagine #kpop scenario #kpop reaction #reader #requests

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storysofmyown · 4 years

Text

Obey me! The passing of time

Plot: One by one, the brothers start to notice how Mc changes as time goes by.

Warning: None that I can think of

Word Count:2480 words

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

It started slow, very slow. You never noticed, of course you didn't. For you, this was something entirely normal but for the demons, it wasn't. After all, they could live for millenniums without suffering much but a cold but... for a human well... that's another story.

So no, you didn't notice as you grew older and started to look older, but the brothers certainly did.

The first one to notice was Asmodeus. The two of you were in one of those intense cuddling sessions; while he stroked your hair, he suddenly noticed a white hair. It made him froze in an instant.

Aging

It was such a slow process for them, for demons, angels and alike. But for humans, humans didn't even have a fraction of a demons life span. They all knew it. Humans were so fragile that even sleeping in a wrong position could hurt them. Yet, here you were. A human, surrounded by demons and still being able to hold your self with such confidence, sometimes even he forgot you were not one of them. Nevertheless, here you were mortal. Because you were human after all.

Asmodeus stared at your sleeping face, so peaceful... It made his heart ache, how has he gotten so close to you? To appreciate you as much as he does? To cherish you, to adore you...to love you? That night, he vowed to make the best of the time you two spend together. Occasionally, you noticed his sad face while painting your nails... but you never mentioned it.

The next one to notice was Belphegor; you usually napped together after classes every day, to get your energy up. However, he started to notice unusual sleeping patterns, the way you slept less at night and more during the day. At first, he thought it was probably Leviathan keeping you awake while gaming at night or watching some anime, but when Levi made a comment about you not connecting in a few days it sunk in.

He had researched human aging once, not because he cared or any deeper reason. He was just curious. He read that getting older, for some people, implied changes in their sleep routine. After that, he started noticing how tired you were often, the black circles underneath your eyes.

Ever since that day, he found himself thinking of Lilith, death, and mortality. Why? There wasn't any real reason, but just something in his heart that made him remember of how long ago his time at the Celestial Realm was every time he looked at you.

Ever since that, Belphie makes sure you go to bed at a reasonable hour, and even uses just a little of his demon powers to make sure you get enough sleep, and if sometimes he stayed awake just to look at you sleep... well that was for him to know and for you to never find out.

Next, was Lucifer. You both had fallen into a kind of routine; you would help him organize papers and such, nothing too important, just to help him around with minor stuff. Today was one of those days. He was looking at some papers and he gave you the ones that weren’t so important to either categorize or to dispose of. He lifted his gaze from the papers for just one second and noticed that something was off. The scene before him… it wasn't quite right. Maybe it was the fact that you had been looking at the same paper for 4 minutes trying to figure out where it belongs, or how your figure seemed... smaller for some reason.

As he stared at you, he suddenly remembered something. The Exchange Program you had participated in ended a while ago, but you had chosen to stay with them. He tied the knots by figuring that, yes, some time had passed since then and it was normal you didn't look the same. So, he kept reading a paper but then realization hit him…. the exchange program ended more than 15 years ago.

It cut him like a knife. It felt like yesterday you had just gotten into the Devildom and now... it had been more than 15 years. For him, it felt like nothing, but for you, a mere human, it must feel like a lifetime ago. Lucifer put the paper down, and suggested you two went out for dinner that night.

You found it odd, but not unwelcomed, and if this started to become a habit between the two... well you sure were not going to question it.

Then, it was Satan the one who noticed. You were reading with him, when he saw you struggling to read some words. You kept shuffling the book closer and then further from you, making weird faces and sighing in frustration. He put it down as you not being particularly interested in that book. So he suggested that the two of you took a break and watched the new episode of a detective show they were airing.

However, it kept happening every time you read together. So, one day Satan surprised you with a trip to the human world… but for medical reasons, he took you to an oculist. While waiting for you, he was reading a book, and he saw an old person walk by him. He then looked at the book and the first word his eyes saw hurt him.

Death

He read around thousands of books explaining humans. From the way their minds worked on a psychological and biological way, to the way a human’s body rotted after dead. Quite fascinating, but the thought of that happening to you... made him land from his fantasyland. Once you came out you, to no one's surprise, announced that you needed reading glasses, he only smiled and told you to pick whatever style you preferred. As you looked around and asked for his opinion on the glasses, Satan noticed another thing.

Even if you were getting older, your spirit was still the same. And that made him smile genuinely. Afterwards, he seemed to be more and more interested in your health and stuff like that, you really didn't question it, your memory was already bad, so it was not bad to have someone remind you to take your vitamins.

Beelzelbub has been sneaking into the kitchen every night of his long life. But specifically, tonight he sneaked into the kitchen and found you, bent over the counter with just a glass of water. He smiled and asked if you were also hungry, but you shook your head, explaining that the dinner you had eaten earlier made your stomach ache and you just wanted some water.

Beelzelbub stared in confusion, after all it was not often food made him feel ill. But lately, this has been something that happened to you a lot. He figured his midnight snack could wait and gave you a hug, hoping it will make you feel better. You smiled and hugged him back, resting against him.

You felt... tired and it wasn't because it was almost midnight or because you had a tummy ache... no, it was a different type of tiredness. After a while, you smiled at Beel and went back to your room. Beel staid in the kitchen, not eating but thinking. He was worried about you; Lucifer mentioned the other day a little off of hand that you seemed weaker.

Beel didn't pay much attention to it, until now. His mind went from Lilith to you, how that affected him, and suddenly, the answer was clear. Beel slumped in himself and tried hard not to wake anyone up on the way to his room. Ever since that day, he asked you to work out with him, even for just a little bit, and the intense cuddling sessions were now even more intense.

The truth was he was scared of losing you too. Only Belphie knew that, and he planned to keep it like that. And if the nightmares ever shifted from Lilith to you well... at least he had you to hold his hand... for now.

It was 3 am... and if Belphegor knew you were awake at this unholy hour he might kill Leviathan and never let you sleep alone in your room again. But here you were, Levi had told you he would be binging one of his favorite animes all night, and you just had to watch it with him. So there you were, 3 am and both, you and Levi, watching anime.

Levi was all excited about the story, the characters, and the plot but you... not so much. So, you ended up falling asleep. Once Levi noticed, he muttered something about how your normie blood had taken the better of you, before falling silent as he kept watching the anime. There, right in the middle of the screen, the protagonist best friend had been killed. Blood was everywhere and the episode ended. Levi's eyes fell on you.

You were Levi's only friend, and the thought of losing a friend made him break a bit. He’s been noticing how you have changed in the passing of time, but he never actually stopped to think of the implications of that. Humans die, very, very easily. He wasn't certain on how much longer you would be around to spend time with him, do cosplays, and talk about anime or manga. He was going to be as lonely as the Lord of the Shadows was before Henry became their friend.

Leave his room? He never did such thing. At least not for a few days after that realization hit him... but then he realized that he was wasting SO MUCH TIME. So, after that, wherever you were, Levi was. He started to talk more about your own interests and stuff. It was nice, he learned new stuff about you, and while the thought of losing you always lingered in the back of his head, he wanted to be close to you no matter what.

Now Levi spent less than 4 hours in his room during the day, it was a miracle really... that was something absolutely no one has ever done before. And honestly, you were not going to question it.

Finally, Mammon, THE Great Mammon noticed. You two were walking in town after one of his photoshoots. He was going on and on about how amazing he was while you trailed behind him... really behind him. Once he noticed, he slowed his pace to match yours. You started talking about something else entirely when suddenly your D.D.D rang. While you answered he checked the hour, and upon looking at his background, he felt a part of himself die.

As his background, he had set a picture of you and him. Not taken too long ago, just a few years... or so he thought. You looked so different. Your hair was now entirely white, matching his; he noticed the wrinkles around your face and the glasses that you now had to use all the time. Mammon fell silent. You informed him that Lucifer had called and wanted you two home now. He just nodded and didn’t say a word for the rest of the walk. You found it weird because... well, because it's Mammon, but you didn't mention it.

That night, Mammon didn't go to your room. He stayed in his, thinking about everything. Thinking how he didn’t notice that you were growing old. He was always with you, ALWAYS. It was impossible for HIM to not notice. Yet here he was, wondering how time slipped between his fingers, and now who knows how much time you would spend together. Mammon cried... all night, no one knew because he made sure it was a silent cry... but the idea of losing someone he cared about so much. IT hurt when Lucifer confiscated Goldie, and he knew losing you would feel the same... who was he kidding? It was going to be worse, so much worse. And so, he cried, but only for that night, the next day he was his usual self just... now he was aware. Suddenly he was being super kind to you and buying you stuff.

It weirded you out but it was fine, you let him have it... you knew what it was about. You started at him with a smile on your lips, ruffled his hair and made snarky comment about him already being broke and to stop spending in you.

If Mammon never left your side before just imagine now. And he was not the only one. You were constantly followed around by a group of demons that wanted to spend time with you. You knew why, but you never mention it... why would you?

Mammon and the others had never talked about it, they refused to do so but whenever you didn't look, they looked at each other, and with sad expression, they made sure to take in the moment, to save it in their hearts.

It was night. You and the seven brothers have been having a horror night but you were tired already. Your entire body ached. And halfway through the movie you fell asleep.

You woke up by a hand shaking you, once you opened your eyes you saw Lucifer. You smiled at him, sat up, and, to everyone surprise, hugged him. Blame it on your half-asleep state, but you dared to hug him, and even give him a kiss on the cheek. Then proceed to hug and kiss every other brother.

No one knew what had gotten into you, but once you kissed Belphegor and were about to say good night, Beel and Asmo pulled you into another hug, and before you realized, you were in a cuddle mountain with ALL the brothers. Lucifer may have taken a little convincing but at the end, he joined you all. After an intense two hours of cuddling, you went to your room. As you laid down in the bed with a smile plastered on your lips, you felt... at peace. With how your life had been up to this point, with how much you loved those seven idiots. Yeah, you really loved them.

During breakfast the next day, none of the brother ate. Not even Beelzeebub, they all waited patiently for you, they wanted to wait for you, even though... all of them knew you were not going to come down the stairs.

That's how it was, humans are born and humans die in less time than any other creature. It was the sad reality of their world, and as the brothers waited for a human that was never going to come down the stairs, all they could think about was you. It was sad, but it was true. And even if they were never going to see you, again... they really were grateful for everything.

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

Hello sweeties, this is actually the first fan fic I've ever made. I could not get this idea out of my head so I just had to write it. Hope y'all enjoy it!

#obey me one master to rule them all #obey me!#obey me #obey me! asmodeus #obey me! lucifer #obey me belphie #obey me beelzebub #obey me lilith #obey me leviathan #obey me mc #obey me mammon #obey me satan

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stereksecretsanta · 3 years

Text

Merry Christmas, browney3dgirl6!

For @browney3dgirl6. I hope you enjoy this gift as much as I did writing it. Have a wonderful holiday with some sterek pining angst with a happy ending!

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 6000

Tags: Pining, Miscommunication, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - College/University, Roommates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Oblivious Stiles Stilinski, Oblivious Derek Hale, Idiots in Love

Read On AO3

*****

Call Him More

There was a lot that Stiles could be grateful for in his relatively boring life. Even though he lost his mother at a too young age, he and his father had never been closer. He had gone to high school with a close-knit group of friends that always had each other’s backs through the ups and the downs of adolescent drama. When he graduated, he got into a college not too far from home that offered his dream major of graphic design.

Unlike most of his friends, he took a year off to work and save up some money so he didn’t have to deal with the college roommate situation after the required first year. When he was assigned his room, however, he thought he might pretend he didn’t have enough money for an apartment. If it meant rooming with tall, dark, and handsome, Stiles figured it wouldn’t be all that bad.

He had known he was not totally straight since his freshman year of high school. Openly gay, Danny, had brought the group to a gay bar that wasn’t exactly thorough with their license checks and Stiles had slowly realized that he didn’t feel as out of place as his friends did. Scott was vaguely uncomfortable but very kind about it because that was just who Scott was, and Stiles thought that maybe the reason he wasn’t as uneasy was that he belonged there.

Forming an identity was the hardest part of growing up for Stiles, but he had done it just as quickly as the rest of his friends. He was open about his attraction to, well, everyone, but never let that dictate any part of his life besides who he decided to date.

That was until he met Derek Hale.

Stiles had seen a lot of hot people in his life - his friends had been considered the prettiest people in Beacon Hills High School and he wasn’t sure how he had stayed a part of the group - but nothing came even remotely close to the perfect pouted smolder, thick arched eyebrows, and kaleidoscope eyes that Stiles thought even the straightest of men would get lost in. Derek Hale was the most gorgeous person Stiles had ever seen in his life and because Stiles had almost no filter from his brain to his mouth, he said as much when they first met.

“I think I’m in the wrong room,” Stiles said as he gaped at the stunning man in front of him. The man raised his impressive eyebrows and sat down on the edge of his bed before gesturing to the twin mattress on the other side of the room.

“Are you in 110?” The man asked and Stiles thought a voice had never sounded so seductive before that moment. The man was a god and Stiles was truly unworthy.

“Can you pinch me, because you’re so fine I must be dreaming.” Stiles regretted the words almost immediately. Scott had told him to lay off the cheesy pick-up lines and that there was a time and place for them and sometimes that was never and nowhere.

The man furrowed his eyebrows before asking, “Do you have a name?” Before Stiles could answer, the man smirked almost shyly and said, “Or can I call you mine?” Stiles couldn’t help the burst of laughter that left his lips. He placed the box in his arms on the bare mattress across from the man before offering a hand.

“Stiles,” he said. The man took his hand firmly and his smile seemed to light up the entire room.

“Derek,” his roommate said and Stiles hadn’t realized how much one name could change his life.

~~~o~~~

“She’s gonna be here in like 15 minutes, Stiles, can you please just clean up the excessive amount of chip bags on the floor?” Derek yelled from where he was making his bed. Stiles rolled his eyes but noticed the stark contrast between their sides of the room. Derek made a point to fix his sheets and fluff his pillows every morning while Stiles was lucky if he washed his on a weekly basis. Derek’s belongings were meticulously stacked on their rightful shelves and his desk looked as though a scholar had been creating their next published work on the smooth top.

“Why do you even care what my side of the room looks like?” Stiles asked through a mouthful of Cheetos. Derek stared at him with the judgmental gaze Stiles had grown to know and love before wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb. Stiles rolled his eyes but wiped his flannel sleeve across his lips just to appease Derek who smiled sarcastically back at him.

“I actually like to impress the people I want to date, unlike someone,” Derek said pointedly as he stood in front of the mirror and ran a hand through his gelled hair. Stiles ignored how absolutely perfect he looked in favor of standing and brushing off the crumbs that had fallen over him.

“Awe, you want me to impress the people you date, too?” Stiles cooed as he made his fingers into little guns and pointed at Derek with a wink. Stiles saw the dejected sigh in the way Derek’s shoulders rose and fell as he fixed the collar of his shirt.

“You’re my best friend and roommate, Stiles. Anyone I date is bound to spend a lot of time with you. Would it kill you to put a little effort in? For me?” Derek asked as he turned, his eyes pleading in a way Stiles thought no one could ever say no to. He ignored the pang in his heart from the subtle insult and kept his usual sideways smile on his face.

“I’ll put in as much effort as you put into keeping that tie crooked,” Stiles said with a raise of his eyebrows. Derek looked down, tilting his chin as best he could to catch a glimpse at his handiwork. Stiles wiped his cheesy hands on his jeans before stepping up to his best friend and gripping onto the imperfect knot.

“Why don’t you see if Danny is free to go out tonight? I’m worried you’re spending too much time alone,” Derek said softly. Stiles adjusted the tie around Derek’s neck and tried to ignore the ghost of a breath across his cheeks. He wasn’t sure why he kept putting himself in that position; so close to Derek before he left to woo another woman. When he looked up at Derek as he looped the smaller end of the tie into place, though, he remembered that it was worth it to see the bright smile on Derek’s lips.

“I’ll dial up Scott and see if he can tear himself away from Allison for the night, okay?” Stiles never intended to do that, but Derek seemed relieved at the thought so he counted it as a win. Stiles realized that there wasn’t an excuse to help Derek anymore as the tie was sorted, so he patted Derek’s chest with awkward palms and stepped away slowly. “You look great. You taking her to Nonna’s?” Stiles hated that he knew his friend took his first dates to the fancy Italian place across town as Derek nodded in response.

“She said she wasn’t ‘sure’ about Italian food, but…” Stiles gaped at the preposterous notion that anyone could dislike Nonna’s and shook his head as he settled back into his bed. He opened his laptop to try and ignore the slow way Derek coated his lips in chapstick as if preparing for a date ending kiss and fired up an episode of his favorite comfort TV show.

“If she’s a dud, bring me back some fettuccine, yeah?” Stiles asked as Derek opened the door. Derek turned back to him with a small smile on his face that almost looked sad and Stiles wasn’t really sure why. He was the one going out on a Saturday night while Stiles ate junk food and watched the same show he had already seen at least six times through all alone.

“You got it,” Derek agreed.

The door slammed shut behind him and Stiles flinched at the sound. It was one he was all too familiar with. It was the sound of him losing Derek to another person that wasn’t him.

It had only taken Stiles about six months to realize that what he felt for Derek was entirely more than platonic. Derek was the hardest person to figure out but the challenge was one that Stiles couldn’t ignore. He was practically obsessed with trying to get Derek to crack another rare joke or respond with a laugh instead of an eye roll or a scrunch of confusion prominent on his eyebrows. He had put every ounce of his energy during his freshman year of college into figuring out how to get closer to Derek and it took Danny calling him out in front of everyone for him to truly realize that wasn’t quite platonic.

“Is Derek coming out with us tonight, too?” Danny asked as they pushed open the doors to the club they had frequented even before some of the group had turned eighteen. Stiles shook his head and stared at Danny, unsure why he would even ask.

“Derek’s never been out with us unless it involves food,” Stiles reminded him as they caught sight of Scott, Allison, and Lydia waving frantically from the table they had somehow procured in the busy venue.

“Yeah, but I figured things were different now…”

“Guys! You finally made it!” Scott pulled Stiles into a tight hug, but Stiles was too focused on Danny’s words to appreciate the comforting gesture from his best friend. He pushed Scott away a bit quicker than he usually would have and turned back toward Danny who had Lydia in a side squeeze.

“What do you mean ‘different’? Nothing’s different with Derek and me,” Stiles corrected as if the thought offended him. It hadn’t, but he wasn’t about to let his closest friends in on how ridiculously head over heels he was for his straight roommate. Not when they would only try to convince him to stop as if it was possible, as if Stiles hadn’t already tried.

“Yeah, I mean now that you guys are, you know, dating? Hooking up? Whatever you’ve decided to label it,” Danny said with a shrug. A shrug. As if the entire prospect was obvious to everyone. Stiles was torn between disbelief and sheer frustration as Lydia chimed in.

“We figured it would take a little longer, but we’re glad that you’ve figured,” Lydia gestured vaguely at the length of Stiles, “all that out.”

Allison piped up, “Yeah! When Scott told us, we were all ecstatic.” Stiles turned to his best friend in shock, his mouth hanging open so comically wide it was a miracle there were no flies making a home in the cavern.

“When Scott told you?! What exactly did Scott tell you?” Stiles asked but it was clear the question was directed at his best friend. Scott just shrugged - Stiles was really sick of his friends shrugging off his complete panic - before taking a slow, bashful sip of his drink.

“I thought after last weekend you guys had finally decided to, I don’t know, pull your heads out of your asses?” Scott said consideringly and Stiles just stared at him. Nothing had changed last weekend from what Stiles could remember and he was more confused by Scott’s mention of it than ever.

“What the hell are you talking about, Scotty?” Stiles asked as he plopped down into a chair and downed half the drink Lydia had carefully handed him.

“C’mon, Stiles, don’t make me say it!” Stiles thought his jaw somehow dropped even further as he gestured wildly at Scott before running both of his hands through his hair. He leveled Scott with a glare that clearly told him to start talking and, thankfully, he did. “When I came in on Sunday morning to see if you guys wanted to go to breakfast with us and you were… indisposed,” Scott said slowly.

Stiles barely remembered it, and then the entire morning flashed across his mind. Derek had been up late the night before and had come home groggy and exhausted from a night of studying. When he entered their shared room, Stiles was still up playing one of his online games but immediately closed his laptop at how dejected Derek looked. It took everything in him not to launch himself into Derek’s arms and hug him, so instead, he patted the empty side of his bed and just smiled up at Derek in invitation. There were no words exchanged, but both of them apparently needed comfort no one else was around to give them.

Derek must have fallen asleep because before Stiles could react, their front door was opening and Scott’s vibrant voice was echoing through the room. Stiles shushed him as best he could by flinging a pillow in his direction and slid his arm out from underneath Derek’s hard body before meeting Scott out in the hallway. Scott hadn’t even asked what the two were doing and Stiles realized he should have explained something more than ‘yeah, sometimes we share a bed to watch movies and play games but it’s totally platonic’.

“You were spooning, Stiles. I don’t know about you, but the only person I’ve ever spooned in my life is my girlfriend,” Scott said with a gross smile in Allison’s direction. The group collectively groaned but Stiles couldn’t join in because he was too focused on what that weekend might have meant to Derek.

“We’re just roommates, guys. Friends, even. But that’s it,” Stiles said and that was that.

He held onto the hope that maybe Derek had felt the same until the following morning when Derek came back to their room with a hickey on his chest that had a pang surging through Stiles’ heart like a lightning strike. He let go of his hope that they would ever be more than platonic and focused on what he could be to Derek; his roommate, his study partner, the person he begrudgingly spent a majority of his time with, and his friend.

Stiles lost himself in a TV show he wasn’t even sure he wanted to watch and tried to stop imagining Derek being the perfect gentleman he probably was on the date Stiles would never be the one to go on.

~~~o~~~

Stiles woke up a few weeks later with one of the worst hangovers he had ever been subject to in his life. He always remembered to stay hydrated, always had glasses of water shoved in his direction by his friends when it was his turn to let loose, but there was some reason he hadn’t the night prior. He wracked his brain but all that he could remember was in flashes of bright lights, thumping music, and Derek.

Derek.

He vaguely remembered Derek showing up at the bar, but definitely recalled his drunken excitement upon noticing his presence. He was pretty sure Danny had to hold him back from launching himself embarrassingly into Derek’s strong arms. He really should grab a coffee with Danny soon as he always seemed to have Stiles’ back when he became unhinged.

One memory surged through the forefront of his mind and his skin heated up as he thought back on what had happened a few hours into the night.

“Der!” Stiles yelled as he reached the table his friends had gotten for the night. Derek was alone and it was ridiculous that he was alone. How was no one in this club hitting on him? There were literally so many eligible– Oh, yeah. Eligible men at the gay bar that probably weren’t Derek’s type. Stiles pouted at his own internal monologue and when Derek noticed, he raised an eyebrow at him. “Finish your drink and let’s go dance!”

When Stiles grabbed for his hand, Derek pulled him down into the booth beside him and said, “Why don’t you take a break, buddy. You should have some water before you get too messy.” Stiles’ alcohol hazed brain was torn between focusing on the backhanded insult and the fact that Derek was trying to take care of him. He decided to focus on the positive because it was his night to be happy.

“I’ll drink the water if you tell me why you decided to hang out with us lowly peasants tonight in favor of sleeping with your girlfriend,” Stiles slurred. It wasn’t exactly how he wanted the question to come out but he figured it was pretty straightforward. Derek laughed, too, so he thought he had won something out of it.

“She had to study with some friends tonight and Scott called me to take you home when you were done so he could leave early with Allison,” Derek said. Stiles glanced around the club and realized that his best friend was nowhere in sight. Stiles was abandoned with only Derek and–

“Danny! Danny, you’ve met Derek. Isn’t he pretty?” Stiles said with wide eyes as he took in what Derek was wearing. If Stiles hadn’t known any better, he would think Derek was there to impress someone. He had the jeans he usually only pulled out for first dates, a dark button-down shirt, and a polka-dotted tie that Stiles had initially bought him as a joke until he put it on and looked amazing. Derek looked amazing in everything.

“Yeah, Stiles, Derek is very pretty,” Danny agreed with a teasing smirk on his lips. Stiles draped an arm over Derek’s shoulder and used the other to straighten his tie. He realized that he was practically in Derek’s lap but he didn’t mind and unless Derek told him to move, he was comfortable right where he was. “You guys gonna join us on the dance floor?” Danny asked as he gestured over his shoulder to where a group of men exactly Danny’s type were waiting for him.

Stiles nodded eagerly as Derek shook his head and said, “I think we’re gonna hang out here until Stiles drinks some water.” Stiles glared at him but Danny left before he could chase after him and enjoy the music.

“Okay, dad. If I drink that water, then will you dance with me?” Stiles begged, pouting his lip for effect. Derek’s eyes searched his face before landing on his mouth and for a moment, Stiles thought he was leaning closer. He closed his eyes to prepare himself for the life changing moment when all of a sudden Derek was a few feet away at the edge of the booth.

“You’re drunk, Stiles,” Derek said and Stiles raised his eyebrows at him because it was very obvious how much alcohol Stiles had consumed and what did that have to do with anything?

“You’re here,” Stiles responded and it made sense in his head. He was there instead of out with his girlfriend on a Saturday night. He was there instead of studying as he usually did with his nights off. He was there - with Stiles - when he could have been almost anywhere else.

“I came because Scott asked me to,” Derek said sternly. He pushed the half-full glass of water in Stiles’ direction and gestured for him to drink it but Stiles wasn’t feeling too thirsty. He shifted closer to Derek, who in turn stood up as if he was about to be burned by lava, and Stiles pushed past him with barely a wave.

“Tell Scott I don’t need his help and I don’t need yours either. I can find my own way home after I’ve finished having fun,” Stiles shouted as he threw himself into the crowd of people.

He would have liked to say that he didn’t watch Derek leave, but he did. He watched as Derek paid for the drinks left on the table and took out his phone before smiling down at it. He watched as Derek took one last glance in his direction and then walked through the doors.

He doesn’t remember much after that.

The slamming door broke him out of his thoughts and he ran a hand through his hair as if it would appease the throbbing in his skull.

“Loud noises are not my friend right now, can you just–” When he opened his eyes to yell at whoever had entered the room, he saw Derek drop a bottle of water onto his bed followed by a container of pain reliever. Stiles bit down on his bottom lip and nodded his head slowly as he glanced up at Derek. “Thanks,” he said lamely.

Derek nodded back and said softly, “I’m heading out, but I figured you’d need this more than I would today.” Stiles smiled at him but he was sure it didn’t reach his eyes. Between the pain and the shame of the night before, he was sure Derek was never going to talk to him again let alone take care of him.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Stiles blurted out before he could stop himself. Derek raised an eyebrow at him as if asking for him to expand on his apology and Stiles figured he owed him that much. “I was pretty wasted and very unreasonable and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you,” Stiles said as he fiddled with the cap of his water bottle. Derek nodded and as he realized Stiles’ struggle to open the bottle, grabbed it from him to uncap the plastic.

“I know, Stiles,” Derek responded. “I was just trying to be a friend because Scott wasn’t there, but I’m not Scott and we’ve got our own kind of friendship, right?” Stiles wished Derek hadn’t used the word friend so much, but it reminded him that was exactly what they were. Stiles was drunk the night before and whatever he thought he saw in Derek’s gaze was wishful thinking. He took a few sips of water before swallowing the pain relievers and falling back into bed.

“You mean the sorta friendship where I embarrass myself and you act like my father?” Stiles joked and then winced at the insinuation of his words. Derek laughed anyway and ran a hand through his hair. It was something he had never seen Derek do before he had started spending more time with Stiles. It made his heart leap to see it.

“The sorta friendship that we have to try our hardest to keep,” Derek said seriously and how was Stiles supposed to respond to that? Derek was more important to him than he realized and Stiles had tried harder every day to ignore his feelings in order to make sure their friendship stayed intact. Stiles briefly wondered why Derek had to try but decided to change the subject in case it started a conversation his hungover brain was not awake enough to have.

“Where are you headed?” Stiles asked and then instantly regretted the question because he knew he wouldn’t like the answer. Derek smiled softly down at his phone as he had the night prior - Stiles hated his mind for recalling that so clearly - and held it up bashfully when it rang.

“We’re headed to the diner a few blocks away. Want me to bring you back some greasy food?” Stiles’ mouth watered both from the idea of greasy hangover food and the fact that ‘we’ meant Derek and the girl that made him smile in the way Stiles had been aiming for for months.

Stiles shook his head and closed his eyes as he said, “Nah, I’ll see if Danny is up for some post-alcohol coma food. Have fun!” Stiles hadn’t meant it, but he put his best sloppy smile on his face and waved at Derek as he left.

When the door slammed shut again, Stiles felt his heart dive into his stomach and wondered if before noon was too early for another round of mind-numbing drinks.

~~~o~~~

A few weeks passed and Stiles wasn’t sure how much longer he could handle sharing a room with the person he tried so hard not to be in love with. He had thought if he threw all of himself into his friendship with Derek, he could somehow make their relationship just like his and Scott’s. He found out he was sorely mistaken because anytime Derek so much as glanced at him, let alone hugged him or patted his shoulder as friends do, Stiles would melt inside.

He hated that he reacted like that. He had thought he’d gotten over the ridiculous pining aspect of his feelings when he spent ten years obsessing over Lydia, who was never going to be the love of his life. Everyone reminded him of that when they got the chance and Stiles thought maybe that was the problem. Even a year after he had realized his feelings for Derek, his friends were still convinced the two were in some secret relationship that Stiles didn’t want them to know about. If he could get one of them to remind Stiles that Derek was a month into a relationship with someone else - a woman, which Stiles reminded himself of often - maybe he would finally stop feeling like he was the lead in a dumb romantic comedy every time Derek walked into the room.

But lately, Derek seemed annoyed with even a glimpse of Stiles. He would come back to their shared room after a date with the girl Stiles still hadn’t bothered to learn the name of and nitpick everything he could see. He didn’t seem to like the way Stiles tucked in his sheets or the way he organized his side table. He even went as far as complaining about the new detergent Stiles had bought to wash his clothes. Stiles felt like he was walking on eggshells and still, his heart skipped when Derek glanced his way.

Like clockwork, Stiles heard a key in the door and his eyes widened in panic. He was in the same clothes he had been the night prior, his bed unmade and probably covered in cheesy crumbs from another bag of Cheetos, and he was sure the air was stale as he hadn’t been able to get out of bed in the morning to take a shower. He jumped off of his bed and quickly tore off his shirt and pajama pants, throwing on a relatively clean pair as he stripped his sheets and threw them into the overflowing laundry basket. He grabbed the card from the dresser just as Derek opened the door and smiled brightly as he tried to contain how out of breath he was.

“Hey Derek, I’m about to–”

“I’m moving out.”

Stiles was sure he felt his heart shatter.

“Derek, what are you–” Before he could even finish his sentence, Derek was tossing his neatly folded clothes haphazardly onto the bed as if he had no cares in the world. The sheer surprise that flooded through Stiles was just as much about Derek’s words as it was his actions. Tidy, organized Derek had half of his room on his bed before Stiles could even blink.

He launched himself out of his bed just as Derek said, “We can’t keep doing this.” If Stiles had been confused before, he was even more so by the phrase.

“This? What? Derek, what are you talking about?” When Derek said nothing, Stiles continued frantically. “I was just about to go do laundry. I can clean my half of the room in a few hours and we can talk about this,” Stiles pleaded. Derek seemed to grumble to himself as he pulled out flattened boxes from beneath his bed but froze when Stiles rested gentle fingertips against his wrist.

“Don’t pretend you don’t see it, Stiles,” Derek said with humor in his voice that had chills racing down Stiles’ spine. He looked quizzically at Derek who shook his head in response. “We’re at each other’s throats more often than not and I’m not willing to risk our– our friendship because we spend too much time together,” Derek spat the words as if they were dirt on his tongue and Stiles had to stop himself from flinching.

Stiles had no idea where it had come from. He had noticed the tension between them, it was almost impossible to miss when you lived with someone, but he had thought it was completely one-sided. Stiles had started to back off after he had realized things with Derek and his girlfriend had started getting more serious, but he didn’t think Derek had minded.

“I really have no idea what you’re talking about and will you stop?!” Stiles shouted as he let his fingers wrap around Derek’s wrist. Derek turned to him quickly, their chests pressed together so that Stiles could feel Derek’s puffing in and out with his panting breath.

“I can’t just stop because I don’t have a distraction anymore!” Derek yelled causing Stiles to take a tentative step back. He kept his fingers around Derek’s wrist, the steady pulse almost calming to him, reminding him that Derek was still there and hadn’t left yet. Stiles could fix whatever was happening and everything would be okay.

“A distraction? Derek, what are you–”

“I picked classes this term to stay out of this room, I studied late nights so that I wouldn’t be a bother to you, I started dating because it was all I could do to distract myself from–” As if his words had caught up to him, Derek’s eyes widened and he ripped his arm out of Stiles’ grasp. It took everything in Stiles not to reach out to him again.

“Distract yourself from what?” Stiles asked so softly that he wasn’t sure Derek had heard him.

Derek turned around, his shoulders sagging as he let out a deep breath, and said, “From you.”

“Me?” Stiles couldn’t help how broken his voice sounded. The admission barreled toward him like an out of control car looking for its next victim and Stiles was powerless to stop the inevitable pain that came from the crash.

“I didn’t mean it like–” Stiles wasn’t about to let Derek finish so he held up his hands.

“No, obviously things with whatever her name is are more serious than I thought and you want to spend more time with her than the person who thought they were your best friend and you know what?” Stiles took a deep breath to calm the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. “That’s completely fine, Derek, cause I don’t need someone who is going to nitpick everything that I do. I want someone who wants to spend time with me not because they’re forced to,” he stated as he picked up his laundry basket and propped it on his hip.

“You think I don’t want to spend time with you?” Derek asked as he blocked Stiles’ only exit to the door. Stiles scoffed and narrowed his eyes at Derek, replaying his words in his head over again to be sure he wasn’t making it up.

“Sorry, does distract have another definition that I don’t know about? It seems like you want to keep as far away from me as possible and are choosing to spend time with this girl over me,” Stiles countered. It was the only explanation he could think of and at the moment it sounded incredibly reasonable.

Derek laughed and took a step toward Stiles as he said, “I’m moving in with Boyd and I don’t have a ‘girl’ anymore.” Well, that definitely changed things. Stiles wasn’t sure how long he stood there gaping at Derek, but it must have been long enough for Derek to start to feel at least a little uncomfortable as he started talking again. “I need a distraction from you because if I spend more time with you than I already do, I’m going to fall even more in love with you than I already am. And I can’t have that for obvious reasons,” Derek said, the last piece almost in a whisper.

“Obvious?” Stiles was sure that wasn’t what his next word should have been, but it was rare that he knew what was going on in Derek’s head and he wasn’t going to let the moment pass him by.

“We’re roommates, Stiles, friends. You’ve said it yourself. I’ve been trying to distance myself so that my feelings for you don’t impact that but apparently, I can’t handle it. So, I’m leaving,” Derek said as he stepped to the side as if letting Stiles make a choice, as if Stiles would choose anything other than letting Derek know they had both been stupid.

“You don’t have a girlfriend,” Stiles said slowly as he dropped the laundry basket to the ground. The noise startled Derek from his packing and he turned, nodding slowly. It was enough confirmation for Stiles to continue. “And you love me?” Derek nodded again, more surely this time as if it was easier to answer.

“Yeah,” Derek whispered, “I do, and I understand if–” Stiles grabbed the knot to Derek’s slightly off-kilter tie and before he could change his mind, he crashed their lips together.

That life changing moment that had seemed just out of grasp for so many months was finally becoming reality and Stiles felt his entire world shift into place. Derek’s hands rested gently on his hips before sliding more securely around Stiles’ back and pulling him so they were flush together. Stiles had always wondered whether it would feel like a fairy tale kissing Derek and he was happy to be proven right. Derek’s lips tasted like vanilla chapstick and a spice he couldn’t quite place and being in his arms felt like home. It might have been cliche, but he wasn’t sure he had ever been so happy.

When Derek pulled away, it was only to rest his forehead against Stiles’ and take a few deep breaths. Stiles had done the same, he thought he might have been floating. Stiles opened his eyes to see that bright smile he had always made a point to bring out in Derek and he saw that his eyelashes cast soft shadows against his cheeks as he shook his head.

“How long?” Derek asked and Stiles didn’t need context to know what he was asking.

“Since the first moment I saw you,” Stiles answered honestly because he wasn’t about to keep lying to Derek when it finally felt as though their truths were out in the open. Derek huffed out a laugh and the heat of it sent a shiver down Stiles’ spine. He realized he didn’t need an excuse to be that close to Derek anymore and the thought alone made him smile wider. “You?” Stiles asked.

Derek opened his eyes and ran his hands up Stiles’ body until he could cup Stiles’ flushed cheeks in his hands. He answered, “When you invited me into your bed after one of the worst nights of my college life.”

“We’re idiots,” Stiles chuckled, straightening Derek’s tie that he had messed up in their heated kiss.

“I was only moving out because I couldn’t keep pretending all the things you did around this room annoyed me. God, Stiles, I love every single thing about you and I’m sorry that I made you feel–” Stiles leaned forward and pressed their lips together once more just because he could and pulled away with a small smile.

“You have never made me feel anything less than lucky to have you in my life, Derek,” Stiles said and when Derek nodded, he added, “but there’s no way I’m letting you move out.” It wasn’t a question, but Derek shook his head hastily in response.

“Now you’re never getting rid of me,” Derek responded as if Stiles would ever try. He had Derek finally after months of being roommates and friends. He wasn’t about to let Derek go without being able to call him more.

#browney3dgirl6 #stereksanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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damerondala · 3 years

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Congrats on 100 followers babes!! You deserve each one! Okay so, I gotta go with "this is real life, okay? not an episode of scooby doo.” + Poe bc 😘👌

thank you my dear tegan!!! im so excited i was hoping somebody would request this one and it fits poe perfectly!!

Poe x GN!Reader + “This is real life, okay? Not an episode of Scooby Doo.”

The mystery had been plaguing the base on D’Qar for weeks now, nobody necessarily knowing what to make of it. Who kept painting murals on the outside wall of the hangar bay? Everyone knew it wasn't a serious threat, probably just somebody trying to lighten everybody’s spirits; especially with everyone being so on edge lately, having no idea if or when the First Order was going to attack. But it was eating you alive, not knowing who did it and how they did it so...well.

You found yourself among a few fellow pilots and resistance fighters, eating your dinner rations and discussing this artistic addition to the base. “I am just blown away at how they can change it everyday and make it look amazing every time!” Your eyes sparkled, truly fascinated with it. Whoever was behind this had a very keen eye, painting different squadrons and all their members standing heroically, different landscapes of planets, they even drew a giant portrait of General Organa herself, surrounded by beautiful flowers that were native to Alderaan. Again, a very keen eye, this artist had.

“They probably trace them,” Jessika spoke with a mouthful of food, “no way somebody can pull that outta their ass every day. Plus, how can they not be seen by anybody?”

“Maybe it’s a g-g-ghoooost!” Snap teased Jess, imitating his voice to sound chilling, like one of those cheesy holodramas boys would take girls to so they could ‘protect’ them from the fake phantoms. This earned him an elbow to the side, an unamused Jess scowling at her squad partner. “Shut up, weirdo.”

Among the banter and sleuthing, one pilot seemed to be more quiet than usual, Poe flicked his eyes from speaker to speaker, silently observing while eating his ration bar. L’ulo noticed the out of character behavior, Poe always has something to say. “What’s up, Poe? Snap really spook you that bad?”

The leader of the squadron found his eyes and smiled, finding the teasing to be amusing. “Nah. Just surprised that Karé married him after listening to...that.” Snap giggled boisterously and his fingers found Karé’s sides, tickling her and smushing his bearded cheek against her smooth one, “Aww come on, she can't get enough of me.” Everybody at the table laughing at how Karé pleaded with you to save her from the ‘hairy monster’. After the chuckles died down, you placed your hands on the table in front of you, as if you were presenting a battle plan to take out an entire fleet of tie fighters. “I say we all keep watch tonight, take rotations. I need to know who’s doing this.” The gleam in your eye died when Poe rolled his eyes at your response, “This is real life okay?” turning to face you, his knee bumping against your thigh, “not an episode of Scooby Doo.”

“Come ooon, Poe! Don’t you want to celebrate whoever is bringing so much life to the base? Don’t act like I didn't catch you staring at it the other day.” You matched his body language, hand pushing off his shoulder to tease him. This was received with a chuckle, Poe swatting at your shoulder as well, mimicking your tone. “Okay smarty pants,” his eyes wielding a childlike glimmer, “first one who finds this mystery artist get’s everybody’s dessert for a week.”

You smiled at Poe. “You’re on.”

That night, Snap and Karé took the first watch. Ending their shift with no new findings, causing to Jess practically vibrate with excitement. If people thought Poe was competitive, they obviously had never met Jess, she was so competitive it became annoying sometimes. But much to her dismay, Jess also reported no new leads. “Not even as much as a stupid Squonk flew by!” She retired to her quarters afterward, discouraged and sleepy.

Your turn was next. Perched on one of D’Qar’s rolling hills with binoculars and some caf to keep you awake, you heard some shuffling from foliage to your left, right hand unlocking your blaster holster in case you needed to defend yourself from hostile wildlife, or even worse, a First Order spy. Your breath ceased with anticipation, but was gladly released from your chest when you were met with the sight of Poe. A warm chuckle came from your friend when he saw your hand ready to fire. “And they say I’m trigger happy. Easy, y/n, it’s just me.” He took a spot next to you, crossing his legs in front of him. “Any breakthroughs?” His eyes not leaving the stars above. It was clear and beautiful out tonight. You glanced at his profile, smiling to yourself, and looked up as well. “Nope. Guess it was stupid, huh?” Poe turned his head to you, making eye contact but quickly breaking it. “No, i--it’s,” more uncharacteristic silence, what in the stars was with him today? “Sweet. You’re so curious.”

This granted him a smile, “Heh. Thanks, Dameron.” you breathed in the warm air, “So, who do you think it is?”

“Hmm. Well, if I told you, you have to promise to keep it a secret.” His lips quickly turned up into a smile at your unabashed gasp, “What?! How do you know? Tell me, tell me!”

“Alright, alright! Jeez, how can you have this much energy at two in the morning?” This question was left unanswered by you, your big eyes looking at him so remarkably as he reached in the front pocket of his bottoms, pulling out a piece of paper that was folded a few times, creasing the smooth planes of it. He stuck it out to you, watching as you snatched it from his hand and unraveled it like a young child opening their life day gift. Another gasp left your mouth, but this time Poe didn't smile at it, his stomach was churning, afraid that he might seem like a creep for what you were about to discover.

“It’s...me.”

You looked up at his face, hands still clutching the sketch of you, standing in front of your X-Wing with your helmet on your hip and looking very triumphant. His hand farthest from you found the nape of his neck, awkwardly scratching while he whispered, “This was supposed to be the next one. The one I did tonight.”

You were, for lack of a better term, absolutely floored. A million questions were swimming through your brain but you were just left to stare at the pilot next to you, your mouth wordlessly moving. “Kriff, y/n, I’m sorry. If you don’t want me to do it I-I can do something else! It’s just, remember the day when you got your own X-Wing? You looked so happy an-” Poe was cut off by a bone-crushing hug around his middle, your head landing on his shoulder as you squeezed, making his heart pound so hard in his chest he thought he might die. “Poe, it’s amazing!” You lifted your head to face him, “I didn't know you were so artistic! How long have you been keeping this a secret? How have you not been caught?!” Your hands were flying around every which way while you rambled and he gave you a dumbfounded grin, astonished at how cute you were, although he would never admit it out loud. “There’s a lot you don't know about me, sweetheart.”

#it's i love poe dameron o'clock #it took me so long to come up with a plot but then it hit me and i cranked this out in an hour #ngl i like it a lot #lauren's 100 follower celebration!#poe #drabble #my writing

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softsalome · 3 years

Text

Dinner.

Repost from my old account, @/softperfuma.

2$ USD = 1.64€ = 5 UNY (United Republic of Nations Yuan)

The first time Mako didn’t show up for dinner should’ve been the red flag that finally caught Wu’s eye. They’d known each other for a few years, but in the past few months they had a silent agreement that brought them closer: some obscure foreign drama that they both loved and had no one else to talk to about. So every Friday night, like clockwork, Mako would pull up to the gates of Wu’s apartment complex with takeout in the passenger seat and the gate code quickly scribbled on his palm. Until it had gone on for so long, that he didn’t need to write it down anymore.

But despite all the Fridays Mako spent in Wu’s house, all the hours of dissecting the episode and picking up noodles that had spilled on the floor, something was stirring between the lines of their friendship. Something that Wu had been afraid to acknowledge, ignoring the growing wound in the hopes that it wouldn’t get worse, wouldn’t hurt him in the end.

But for him, hope wasn’t enough.

So there he was, sitting alone in his living room with his fingers tightly wrapped around his phone, trying to remember the last time his apartment felt so empty. He kept locking and unlocking the little block in his hand, hoping that the screen would eventually light up with a reply to the text he sent hours ago.

‘hey do you still wanna watch the show w me tonight?’

‘mako are u ok? u haven’t been answering me lately’

‘if u wanna talk im here ok?’

All read. All unanswered.

Wu finally abandoned his hopes and opened an app to order dinner. He decided that if he was going to be miserable, he should at least be full. Within the hour, he was pulling apart chopsticks and picking at chow mein, wondering why he was dumb enough to fall for a straight guy.

He’d been only flipping through his movie list for a few minutes before the doorbell rang again. Rising with groan and a scowl, he made his way to the door, dragging his feet the whole way. He unlocked his phone as he opened the door, hoping the lack of eye contact with the delivery boy would make him feel a little less on edge.

“Look man, I know 75Y isn’t the best tip, but I really don’t have any more cash on me right now-”

“Wu?”

One word. His own name, at that. But it was enough to make Wu feel like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. It only took a moment for him to meet those amber eyes with his own before he silently wished he was facing a grumpy delivery boy instead. He choked out a response, trying his damndest to hide his discomfort behind whatever bravado he had left.

“Mako! There you are! I was- I’m- I’m glad you were able to make it tonight!”

Mako slowly shrunk at his laughter, the plastic bag in his hands rustling as he moved.

“And-and you brought food! That’s so great because I was so hungry I was just about to hunt the turtleducks in the pond out front-”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better, Wu,” Mako sighed, running his hands through his hair. “I could smell the chow mein from the elevator.”

Wu swallowed hard at being caught, as if any more lies he might’ve told were trapped and sent back down his throat. He looked at his phone again, thinking the moment might pass sooner if he was looking at the clock. Then Mako spoke, the tips of his shoes sneaking into Wu’s line of sight.

“Can I- can I come in? Is that okay?”

Wu’s head snapped up as he swung his front door backwards, stumbling into the doorknob as he made space for Mako to walk in.

“Of course, of course! I can’t just leave one of my best bros stranded in the hallway, can I?”

Mako quickly passed the threshold of the door, stepping out of his shoes before walking deeper into the apartment. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you did.” Wu gasped at that, hand to his chest as he exaggerated his response.

“Mako! How could you think I’d do such a thing! What little faith ye have!” To further spoil the moment with his antics, Wu spun his way to the couch, sinking into it as he raised the back of his hand to his forehead.

“To think so lowly of me… I don’t think my heart can bear the pain!” Eyes closed, he couldn’t see the small smile on Mako’s face, but he wound up hearing it. A small laugh left his lips as he made his way to the living room, the glass table fogging as he set his food atop it.

“Would you mind bearing the pain a little less horizontally? I kind of wanna sit on the couch.” Wu laughed as a first answer, his hand still on his forehead. “Well you’ve bailed so many times, maybe you should sit on the floor.”

The silence quickly filled the room, and Wu sat up fast as he realized what he’d done. “Mako, I didn’t mean-”

“No, it’s okay. I deserve it.”

“No you don’t!” Wu shot back, challenging him with his eyes. Wu moved away from him then, making space on the couch for him as he continued to hold his gaze, daring him to let another drop of self-deprecation slip. Mako slowly sat beside him, his eyes moving towards the television. It took a moment before either of them spoke again.

“I’m really sorry I bailed, man… twice. I’m sorry I bailed twice. I should’ve told you I couldn’t come, that wasn’t okay.” Wu clapped him on the back, pulling his hand back fast as if he’d been shocked.

“That’s okay buddy! I half forgive you.” Mako bit back a smile, turning to look at Wu. For a moment, Wu pretended as if Mako was looking at him the way he always wanted him to look at him. But only for a moment. His eyes shimmered, molten in the lamplight. “Half?”

“Duh! I half forgive you now and then I’ll forgive you the other half once we watch the latest episode!” He punctuated his flawless logic by digging through Mako’s takeout bag, grabbing one of the small containers he saw peeking at him earlier. “Is this-”

“Sticky rice. With mango. And I’m really sorry, again.”

“Dude, seriously, it’s fine. Do you…. do you want to talk about it?”

Mako swallowed the bite of pad thai on his tongue, passing the remote to Wu without looking at him. “I don’t think I want to. Sorry.”

Wu bit off a piece of mango before answering, hoping the juice wouldn’t stain his shirt. “That’s okay! We can definitely not talk about it, I am so cool with that. We can just watch the show and not talk about it at all.”

Mako cleared his throat after he swallowed another bite. “I might be a little lost, just to let you know. I haven’t watched the last two episodes-” Wu cut him off, quickly flipping through the shows to look for the one they shared.

“Oh yeah, neither have I.”

“What?”

Wu glanced over his shoulder, confused at his reply. “What do you mean, ‘What’? I wasn’t gonna watch it without you.” He laughed as he looked back at the TV screen, finally find what he was looking for. “You ready for me to play it or do you need to get something else?” Wu could feel Mako’s weight shift beside him, and he turned to see Mako settling deep into the cushion.

“No. I’m fine.”

Wu quickly turned to the TV and hit play, hoping Mako couldn’t see how his eyes widened, how he almost opened his mouth to answer. Because yes, yes he was.

They agreed to watch the past episodes back to back before discussing it and moving on to the latest one., and Wu was more than grateful for the time to process both the show and the boundless energy thrumming just beneath his skin.

It was annoying and frustrating and scary how good Mako smelt, how good he looked, and how even though he completely ignored him and didn’t show up for two weeks, Wu couldn’t even fathom being angry with him. At this point, he was only mad on principle. But in truth? He just wished that they would gravitate towards each other like they did three weeks ago, when their legs were touching, and then their arms, and then Wu woke up on Mako’s shoulder, jostled awake by Mako’s strained voice telling him that he needed to go home.

But as much as Wu wished for it, the reality was more along the lines of pausing to look for blankets, spilling sticky rice on his shirt, and rewinding scenes because he was too busy thinking about how he had a crush on someone who would never return his feelings. He hoped he could tuck it all within the folds of his persona: bright Wu, happy Wu, the dramatic and dopey and forgetful ex-prince that couldn’t be bothered to suck on a spoon that wasn’t sterling silver. But he was a fool to think that Mako wouldn’t be able to see right through him.

“Wu, you doing alright? You seem a little distracted.”

Wu sat up straighter, tugging the blankets closer to him as if they’d protect him. “No, I’m fine! Great actually. Just a lot on my mind, that’s all. But not like, in a bad way. Just a lot.”

“Do you- do you want me to go-”

“No!” Wu cut him off, driving the point home by grabbing his shoulder and looking him dead in the eye. “It’s fine, you’re fine, we can talk about it and then watch the last episode.”

Mako’s eyes widened, and Wu drew back, worried that he did something wrong, said something wrong. Mako kept looking at him, as if he was waiting for Wu to say something. So he did.

“That camera angle from the first episode was so crazy right? It looked like someone was watching him through the window, but the realtor said the house has been empty for years-” “Um. Wu?”

And then came the worry. It wrapped its vines around Wu’s heart and tightened, hard enough to make him feel like the beating would be dragged down into his stomach. Mako’s tone, his lack of eye contact, the fiddling with his hands. Something was wrong. The kind of wrong that Wu knew would leave him crying into his pillow for days.

“Uh… yeah? What’s up Mako, my good man?”

Mako’s hands clasped together tightly as he stared at them, as if they held answers he desperately needed. “I don’t think…I don’t think I want to be friends with you.”

And that was all it took. Just a few moments, a short pause, before Wu burst into tears. Mako leapt to his side, holding him close as he tried to talk him down.

“Wait no, I didn’t mean it like that, Wu, please!” But Wu was too far gone to hear him, crying so hard he couldn’t see through his tears.

“Is it because I’m gay?!” he wailed as his tears began to stain Mako’s shirt. Mako pulled his head away from him, trying to meet his eyes and failing miserably.

“No, that’s not it at all! Wu please-”

“Is it because I’m an earthbender?”

“Wu, I’m literally mixed, please-”

“I just don’t-I just don’t understand, I’m sorry-”

“Wu, please just listen!”

Wu was finally reduced to quiet whimpers and sniffles, his tears still obscuring his vision. He wanted to wipe his tears away but that meant moving from Mako’s arms, and as painful as it felt, he wanted to relish what he thought would be his last time there. A few seconds passed like that, in silence, as Wu looked through blurry tears and felt Mako’s labored breathing. It came to an end as Mako moved him out of his arms, bringing his hands to Wu’s face as his thumbs wiped away his tears.

“I said that wrong, I- I didn’t mean it like that.” Wu started to tear up again, and Mako was worried that his fingers wouldn’t be able to keep up.

“Then what- what did you even mean? Mako, why would you even say that?”

Wu tried to look at Mako until he realized how close they were. He started to pull away until Mako’s hands flexed and warmed against his cheeks, keeping his face in place as he mumbled something under his breath. Wu leaned a little closer, his vision finally clearing as he searched Mako’s face.

“What did you say? I didn’t hear you…”

Mako took in a deep breath before meeting Wu’s eyes.

“I wanna be with you, not your friend. I wanna be….I wanna be…” Mako trailed off, his eyes falling to Wu’s lips. “Can I-”

“Please,” Wu whispered, nodding as he leaned in to meet Mako halfway.

It took Wu a moment to realize that the salt he tasted between kisses were his own tears, streaming down his cheeks as he leaned deeper into Mako’s arms and silently begged to meet his lips again. After what felt like forever, Wu finally pulled away, sucking on Mako’s lip one last time on his way out. When Mako moaned, Wu giggled in response, giving a peck on the cheek before speaking again.

“Does this mean we can watch the last episode?”

Mako’s laugh rang through the apartment, so loud that it bounced off the walls and begged Wu’s to join in. His head fell back and tears gathered at the corners of his eyes before he managed to catch his breath and nestle close to Wu once again.

“Sure we can. But… is it okay if I kiss you again?”

Wu’s mouth fell into a lazy smile as he looked back at the TV. They’d barely started the end credits.

“Why are you so eager for more kisses?” He was so sure of himself, so confident in his retort. And it all came crashing down once he felt Mako’s lips graze the shell of his ear, whispering soft as if what he was saying was a secret.

“I can’t help it. You taste like mangoes.” Wu whipped his head to look at Mako, their noses grazing at the sudden motion. They sat there, breaths mingling, hearts beating, until Mako said the words he was holding onto.

“I’m really sorry I made you cry, Wu.”

“I forgive you. One and a half times… and I’m sorry for thinking you were straight.”

Mako grinned, lacing his fingers through Wu’s as he met his forehead with his own. “It’s alright. It happens. But… one and a half?”

“Why of course,” Wu jokingly huffed, grabbing the fallen blanket and laying it over the both of their legs. “I forgave you for making me cry but I also promised you one half forgiveness from earlier. It’s just the proper math.” Mako shook his head as he gazed at Wu, who realized that the look on his face was the exact one that he had wanted all along.

“Of course. Proper math.”

Gazing at each other, watching Mako’s eyes flicker to Wu’s lips ever so often, the ex-prince got around to asking the question that had burrowed its way through his head from the moment their lips met.

“Mako, what do you want from this? From me?” Mako leaned closer, Wu’s voice too soft for him to catch sitting deep in the couch cushion. He grasped Wu’s hand a little more firmly, rubbing his thumb across his knuckles as he spoke.

“I want to date you. Be your boyfriend. I like kissing you… is that what you want? Do you… wanna try that?” Wu brought Mako’s hand up to his lips, kissing his knuckles before answering.

“Yeah. I wanna try that.”

Mako smiled so hard and Wu felt like he could run to the moon and back if it meant he could always bring such joy into Mako’s life. He smiled back, but it fell fast as Mako leaned forward to grab the remote.

“Mako, what are you doing?” The firebender looked back at him, confusion marring his face as he slowly leaned back into the couch once more.

“I’m playing the last episode. Don’t you wanna watch it?”

Wu looked down at their hands. Still joined, still warm. He kept looking at them, as if they left his sight, if he looked away for just a moment, they might disappear.

“I do, I just,” he looked up at Mako through his lashes then, “I just thought you wanted to taste some more mango.”

The sound of the remote hitting the floor filled Wu’s lungs with laughter, but before he could begin to tease Mako, the mans’ lips were already on his own, kissing hard and biting soft and warming him in ways only a firebender could.

#wuko #legend of korra #msww

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