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bbnibini · 3 years

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Valentine Chocolates (Demon Brothers)🌸

How will each brother spend Valentine's Day with you?

LUCIFER

If he had the time to worry about a manufactured human world holiday, he would also have the time to put in extra work in his office.

Is genuinely not interested in Valentine's Day and doesn't find anything special about it.

In his opinion, he can show affection for you at any time he wants. He doesn't see the point of reserving it on only one holiday.

But...once you express interest over Valentine's Day, he is willing to understand the holiday in your perspective. Perhaps there was something there that he wasn't able to appreciate yet. Perhaps all that he needed was to see things in YOUR perspective.

Is the type to bring you to a romantic date. Candlelit dinner with a bouquet of his homegrown roses? Wouldn't the sight of you be lovely under a star-littered moonlit night? Away from the cacophony of Lamentation. Away from his duties and obligations. Away from the usual restrictions he forced himself to get used to.

"I think I'm beginning to understand its appeal. Valentines, I mean."

At the right moment and at the right mood, you realised that Lucifer was quite the romantic.

MAMMON

Was going to give you a homemade choco before he sampled his first batch and realised that he may not be the best chef in the world.

Not as bad as a certain human sorcerer...but still.

He'd rather not have you poison yourself on your date.

So despite his better judgment, he bought some chocolate for you...in secret. (plot twist: Everyone already knows, especially you).

You would notice the smug look on his face once he hands his chocolate to you.

"I know, I know. How did I manage to keep this from ya, right? You weren't expecting any chocolate from me, aren't ya, human? I happen to be a generous demon, so I humoured your request. Consider yourself lucky!"

He totally didn't mull over the perfect chocolate to give to you WEEKS in advance or anything.

Those tickets for the planetarium that just so happened to be reserved on Valentine's Day? A mere coincidence! You can turn him down if you want! (He would definitely NOT cry over it for days).

Is probably the demon brother who fussed over the occasion the most, especially since he can use it as an excuse to be more honest with his feelings.

LEVIATHAN

Half-dreading and half-excited about Valentine's.

On one hand, it's a disgusting, man-made holiday by capitalistic society. On the other hand...it's a "flag" for so many "RL events": a chance to raise his affection parameters!

Probably played a ton of dating sims as a point of reference to his chocolate making.

...and is genuinely surprised that chocolate making is SO MUCH MORE than stirring the chocolate in a particular direction.

DOGI MAGI* LIED TO HIM!

You mean the type of chocolate won't also change based on the decoration you put on it? What's his hundreds of hours spent romancing Ruka and Kou in Dogi Magi 3 amount to, then?!

It took him a while, but once he got over the starking difference between 2D and reality, he made a pretty decent batch of kyara-choco that he was able to give to you.

...just don't ask how he had come so far. He didn't want to remember it either.

SATAN

Homemade chocolate all the way.

Probably bought some cat shaped moulds in Akuzon a few days before Valentine's.

Is also the type to buy chocolate a lot earlier than Valentine's itself.

Besides it being usually priced cheaper because of the lesser demand, he also wanted to practise on making the chocolate he would give to you so everything would be "perfect" on the day itself.

He prefers his chocolate semi-sweet. Not too bitter and not too sweet.

Makes them into bite-sized pieces with outer shells that wouldn't melt on your fingers so easily. Perfect for book dates!

ASMODEUS

Is the type who would give you the fancy G*diva chocolates at a famous chocolatier

Probably has some sort of fruit or liquor inside. Either way, it's expensive as hell. Anything cheaper than that would spoil the feelings he wanted to convey in his gift for you.

Money is just money. You, however are priceless and irreplaceable.

Also is the type who would give you candy hearts and cute little notes.

"Will you be my Valentine?"

"You're adorable!"

"I love you, MC! Let's spend Valentines again next year, shall we? ♡"

BEELZEBUB

Made some homemade chocolates with Belphie to give to you on Valentine's Day.

It took a lot of willpower not to gobble up the finished batch, but with Belphie there to watch over him, and the anticipation of your reactions was enough for him to hold back.

Is generous with toppings and decorations. It's almost as if he made twice the normal amount of portions so he could share them with you.

He liked the idea of sharing chocolate with you and Belphie on the day itself, spending time with his important people on the day of love.

There are some people too who he'd love to share a few sweets with, but they aren't there anymore. Which is why...he decided that sharing moments like this with the people he cares about while they're still there matters.

BELPHEGOR

Made some chocolates with Beelzebub. He had expected the huge amount of ingredients they will need so he was able to save some portions for the chocolates he would actually make for you.

Beelzebub gobbling up all the chocolate was enough to keep him awake for the entire chocolate making process.

He wasn't really used to making sweets, so he was quite proud to see how well his first attempts to make some for someone else had been.

The fact that you enjoyed them just as much made him only the happier.

Although...he wondered if the three of you would be able to finish every chocolate in one sitting. Just looking at the sheer amount he and Beel made is making him tired.

...oh well. At least it's an excuse to spend more time with you.

#obey me shall we date #shall we date obey me #obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #Obey me #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me demon brothers #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor

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snek-snacc-ficc · 3 years

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Fare and Unfairness

Summary: As the embodiment of Greed, Janus is no stranger to doing whatever he pleases to satisfy his desires. A craving for delicious food is one such desire with an especially simple remedy, that just so happens to come with the added bonus of visiting Patton.

Pairings: Moceit, implied Intrulogical

Words: 2,010

Janus didn't have a problem taking what he wanted when he wanted it. It was a given being the physical incarnation of Greed. But, sometimes, the sheer effort of having to maneuver his way to his prize was more than he was willing to give. Perhaps it was just another example of his self-serving ways, wanting to hoard everything including his own time. If asked outright he'd jokingly suggest that he suffered the same issue that afflicted Logan, the only one of them who represented two Sins, and that a part of Sloth still remained with him from the time when all seven Sins were the same being. In truth, it simply mattered little to him how he obtained what he desired as long as he obtained it at all. If someone was going to hand him what he wanted on a silver platter he was in no place to complain. Which is why he found himself in the kitchen of Patton's earthly residence when he was hit with a particularly strong craving for lavish wines and rich food, not wanting to bother with wasting hours searching for a human with enough skill to make it for him.

"Hmm," Patton looked thoughtfully at both bottles in his hands. "Would you prefer Bordeaux or Rioja?"

Janus eyed the dishware set hanging atop the wall above the sink with a much too admiring look. "Whatever you think is best, my dear," he said, waving offhandedly. "Is that design made of real gold?"

"What?" Patton asked, glancing up to where Janus's gaze laid. "Oh, yes! More for show than anything, but it sure is pretty."

"Indeed." Janus slowly trailed his eyes away and back to Patton.

Patton didn’t react to his guest looking like he was plotting to rob him blind, much more enthralled with choosing a wine. He observed both bottles for another moment, before shrugging and setting both on the dining table. "Well no harm in splurging a bit, why not both?" he chirped, reaching to the counter for a wine glass for each of them.

Janus chuckled lightly. "Always such a generous host. I'm surprised the Angels haven't made an exception and taken you as one of their own."

Patton huffed, giving the corkscrew a firm twist. "You would think, wouldn't you? Out of all the things in humanity to make a Sin, the Heavens choose a harmless little thing like Gluttony."

"Oh?" Janus quirked an eyebrow. "Is that a hint of bitterness I hear from such a seemingly sweet-heart? Do you think yourself Holier than the rest of us?"

"Of course not!" Patton insisted. "Frankly, I think all of their rules are foolish in some way. But out of all the things to punish, why a little self-indulgence?" He went for the Spanish wine first, pouring a glass for Janus and then one for himself. He took his own seat at the opposite end of the table and gave a snap of his fingers. In an instant the table was filled with trays of food. A beautiful, dripping prime rib sat at the center, surrounded by sides of creamy mashed potatoes and gravy, Yorkshire pudding, garlic-parsnip purée, and an assortment of vegetables prepared in nearly every way imaginable, from roasted to slathered in butter and sauteed with bacon.

Janus nearly moaned at the feast in front of them, the heavenly smells wafting through the air further confirming in his mind Patton's skills to be far more angelic than infernal. He took the time to fold his cloth napkin in his lap, and not hesitating a second longer on filling his plate.

"Continue Dear," he said, spooning out a healthy portion of truffled brussel sprouts. "I don't think I've ever heard anything akin to frustration from you until now and I'm curious to hear more. What brought all this on?"

"It's nothing much, I suppose," Patton said as he began to carve into the meat. "It's just I had a run-in with that Emile a few weeks ago and I swear it sets me off everytime I see them. You know they-"

Janus almost choked, wearing a rare expression of genuine concern he'd never dare let anyone but Patton see. "I wouldn't call an encounter with a Head Angel 'nothing much!' They didn't try anything with you, did they?"

"No, no, nothing happened," Patton said quickly to quench his fears, "I heard their lot has been trying to keep the peace with our bunch. They don't want to cause any other-worldly problems when they can hardly handle this new plague on Earth, or whatever the humans are calling it."

Janus's face melted back into relaxation.

The corners of Patton's mouth twitched upward at the subtle display. Notes of true affection from Janus were few and far between, so much so he doubted anyone but him ever picked up on them, but he cherished those moments where the other let bits of his heart slip through the cracks of his usual facade.

"Anyway," he continued, "They looked like they had an apprentice with them. Remy, I think his name was. I'd never seen him before and mistook him for just another human in the park with his true form covered."

Janus clicked his tongue. "Consciousness Darling, you have to work on it."

“I was getting to that,” Patton said indignantly. “It just so happens I had gotten my hands on a box of these lovely gourmet chocolates I was dying to try and got a little...distracted.”

Janus brought a forkful of mushroom risotto to his lips, barely holding back a smile. “Ah, I see. Completely understandable.”

“And you know what,” Patton said, ignoring the sarcastic quip, “I hadn’t even set out that day to tempt anyone. I thought: Why not leave the humans alone, just this once? They create plenty of Sin on their own, no help from me necessary.” He poured himself another glass of wine, the passion in his voice a testament to how much the alcohol was already starting to affect him. “So when I spot this kid looking around everywhere all disoriented I decided to offer him a chocolate. One, single, completely innocent chocolate, just to perk him up a little cause he looked like he needed it. And right when I go up to him, Emile swoops in from out of nowhere and knocks the box right out of my hands, telling me to stop trying to tempt their pure apprentice like I do the humans.”

Janus gave a sound of acknowledgment. “And how exactly did this specific incident set you off down this ‘Gluttony shouldn’t be sinful’ path?”

“It’s the principle of it Janus! To think that they view such a minor indulgence as a bad thing. And then they hold the humans to the same standard. They have such short, insignificant little lives, and they waste it on concepts like ‘moderation,’ and ‘dieting,’ hoping it’ll be enough to please those stuck-ups. Humans, more than anyone, should be able to soak up every last bit of pleasure from their cuisine while they can. Why, if I were a human, I’d eat whatever I wanted whenever I wanted it.”

By the time the tirade was over Janus had cleared his plate. He polished off the last bit of his wine and released a satisfied sigh. “You already do that Dear,” he said, taking on a soft, sympathetic tone. “And it’s no use lamenting the sorrows Heaven inflicts on humanity; Just be grateful we can nudge them towards their own pleasure once in a while.”

“I guess so.” Patton sulked while finishing his own meal and snapping the table clean.

“Funny,” Janus teased in an attempt to get Patton’s mind on something else, “I wouldn’t have thought you the type to forget dessert.”

As expected, his energy brightened up at the mention. “You’re right, I never asked you what you wanted. Any preferences?”

Janus thought through various options, drumming his fingers on the table. “I was rather partial to that lava cake we had in France.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a dessert plate with the cake appeared in front of him.

“Toppings?” Patton asked, already doctoring up his own cake with whipped cream and berries.

“Just powdered sugar, thank you.”

A silver shaker popped up next to his plate. He took it, sifting only a small sprinkle overtop before cutting into the miniature cake. It was even more moist than he remembered, and the center of molten chocolate oozing out was the perfect viscosity. It only took one bite for him to conclude that even the five-star Parisian restaurant they had visited didn’t hold a candle to the food Patton could create on a whim.

“Have you heard from any of the other’s lately?” He asked, eager to get the ball rolling for a bit of after-dinner gossip (his personal favorite topic of conversation).

Patton shook his head. “I haven’t had the chance to. Aside from you, I’ve only seen Virgil recently, and that was months ago.”

A delighted, devilish smirk blossomed on Janus’s face. “So I take it you haven’t heard about the...hard time Logan has had as of late.”

“No, is he okay?” Patton asked, voice laced with worry, “What happened?”

“He’s just fine,” Janus said, reveling in the anticipation, “Let’s just say that it appears there’s a reason he’s so fond of the color blue.”

He recounted the entire story Roman had told him about Logan’s budding temptation towards Lust, much to Patton’s shock and amusement.

“I never would have expected those two,” Patton said, getting up and waving away their dishes once they were finished, “But I’m happy for them. It sounds like they’re enjoying themselves.”

Janus hummed in agreement, stretching as he too stood up. “The food was wonderful as always Darling, thank you,” he said, leaning over to give Patton a gentle peck on the cheek.

His face, already flushed from the wine, turned a shade darker. “Leaving so soon?”

“You know the drill,” Janus replied, “Temptations to be made, Angels to corrupt, humans to swindle. Perhaps if I’m feeling especially virtuous I’ll borrow you a gift from somewhere in return for the lovely meal.”

Patton, who had been sinking into the other’s touch, suddenly jerked back. “That reminds me,” he said, “Wait just a second.” He snapped once and a gift bag filled with glittery tissue paper materialized in his hand. “Here.”

Confused, Janus peeled away the top layers of the tissue paper, peeking inside. Everything was sealed up tightly in bubble wrap, but through the translucent covering he could make out a familiar design. He looked up above the sink where the gold accented dish set from earlier had hung, the wall now dotted only with semi-visible outlines of where it had once been.

Patton giggled at his surprise. “You aren’t nearly as sly as you think you are,” he said. “And I don’t care whether I eat off of solid diamond or a paper plate as long as the food is good, so they’re really no use to me.” He winked. “Besides, I think I actually quite enjoy feeding your desires.”

There was a beat where Janus simply stared stunned and silent at Patton, who, in turn, looked to him with all the tenderness in the world.

Janus moved with his free hand, rushing forward to cup Patton's face and connecting their lips in a deep kiss.

“Every single being in Heaven is an idiot for not making you one of their own,” Janus whispered when they had just barely parted.

“Maybe not,” Patton said lightly, “Maybe they have incredible foresight. In any existence I would have ended up Falling for you anyway.”

Janus pulled them in for another kiss, pushing his previous priorities to the back of his mind. He was Greed after all, it was only natural for him to go after his desires. And if what he wanted was right in front of him for the taking then he certainly wasn’t going to refuse the offer.

---

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! If you're interested in this AU I do plan on creating a collection of one-shots for it, so be sure to be on the lookout for those.

Here's just a couple quick notes on the writing itself that I thought might be confusing:

-Fare, as written in the title, refers to food.

-The "Sins" in this AU were once combined into a single physical being. However, as humanity grew in size it became increasingly harder for one being to manage the responsibilities for all seven Sins at once. The internal conflict caused a split to occur, with individual vessels being created for each Sin. The only exception is Logan, who represents both Wrath and Envy. The two Sins compliment each other well, so it's easy for them to work in tandem as one. A similar occurrence happened with Pride and Lust (Roman and Remus) at first, but ultimately fell apart later on.

-The color blue, referenced in the short mention of Logan near the end, is often attributed as the color of lust.

#sanders sides #cartoon therapy #moceit #Janus Sanders #patton sanders #intrulogical #Greed!Janus #gluttony!patton

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tomhollandstrash · 3 years

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Nice

Here’s another friends to lovers trope. I’ve just been really in the mood to write about it lately! I hope y’all enjoy!

Peter, what are you doing?” You raised your eyebrow, watching Peter frantically digging through his backpack.

“Ugh,” Peter groaned, removing his hands from his bag before resting his forehead in his hands. “I lost it,”

“Lost what?” You asked, sitting in the desk next to him.

“My pen,” He grumbled.

“You lost your pen? Pete, you can just borrow one of mine,” You chuckled at your friend’s antics before passing him your favorite teal pen.

“Your favorite pen?” Peter blinked as he took the pen from you.

“Yeah, so you better give it back after class,” You poked him in the side and gave him the sternest look you could muster.

“You’re so nice, y/n” Peter smiled, settling into his seat, ready for class.

—

"What are you doing tonight?" you asked Peter as the two of you walked out of the classroom.

You and Peter have been close ever since you were partners in biology last year. As it turned out, the two of you had a lot in common. You both enjoyed the same kinds of music, although you always argued about-who had the better taste. Peter never failed to brighten your day. He was always helping you with your schoolwork or telling you stupid jokes he'd picked up off the internet. You also knew that he trusted you deeply. You can still remember the night he told you that he was Spider-Man. Peter said he wanted to tell you because he knew that you were one one of his most trustworthy friends. Only you and Ned knew that particular secret.

Although you were glad that Peter felt like he could trust you with anything, sometimes you were privy to information that you didn't care to know. For example, Peter's massive crush on Liz Allan. Liz was great; she was the total package. She was beautiful, smart, and kind. You couldn't pin point exactly what it was that irritated you so much about Peter's crush on her. You always told yourself that it was simply because Peter was annoyingly lovesick over her. That was definitely it. It wasn't because you had any kind of romantic feelings for one of your closest friends. Definitely and absolutely not that. Besides, you and Liz were friendly with each other. All you could hope for was for your friends to be happy; and Liz certainly seemed to make Peter happy.

"I think I'm going to ask Liz if she wants to hang out tonight" Peter gushed nervously.

" That's great, Pete” you replied through a tight lipped smile.

There was that weird feeling again. If you weren't absolutely certain that you didn't have feelings for Peter, you would have mistaken that feeling for jealousy. There was nothing to be jealous of.

" Yeah, hopefully she'll say yes" Peter said as the two of you arrived at your lockers.

—

You put your chin in your palm as your elbow rested against the cool linoleum countertop. Since you had no other plans for the right, you decided to pick up an extra shift at the local coffee shop you worked at. The coffee shop wasn't too busy tonight, though you weren't particularly surprised. The only people who frequented the shop at 9pm on a Friday night were you and the extra studious college students. You were about to begin cleaning up when you heard the bell on the door ring and the sounds of laughter filling the air. You stood up and straightened out your apron, ready to greet the newcomers.

" Welcome to bi-" You began but stopped when you saw who your new customers were. " oh, hey Peter, Liz”

' She must have said yes' you thought somewhat bitterly to yourself. When you looked at them, you saw that they were linking elbows and looked like they were having the time of their lives. Peter was practically glowing he looked so happy.

" Hi y/n!” Peter greeted you after his Liz induced giggles subsided.

" What can I get you guys? " you asked, rocking back and forth on your feet. You hated how awkward you were being in this moment. It's not like you liked Peter like that.

" Can we just get two not chocolates, please?" Liz requested kindly.

"Sure,” you replied as you began to take out the necessary ingredients. "it's on the house"

"Thats so nice!” Peter grinned at you. “You’re so nice, y/n”

You tried to hold in your sigh. Was that really all you were to Peter? Just someone who was nice?

“ No problem, I'll bring you your drinks when they're ready" You said with a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

"Thank you!" Liz smiled at you as she whisked Peter away to a cozy table.

As you made their drinks, you couldn't help but steal glances at them. Why couldn't you find it in yourself to be happy for Peter? He'd been mooning over Liz for the past few months, and he looked undeniably happy. You frowned slightly as you watched Peter let out a full bellied-laugh at something Liz said to him. After you dropped their drinks off at their table, you went into the back to clean, preferring to avoid the love fest happening in front of you. Once they left with a cheerful wave to you, you turned the lights off and walked home trying to forget the Peter sized pit in your stomach.

—

In the weeks following Peter's date with Liz, they began officially dating. While you and Peter used to hang out most days after school, you weren't seeing much of each other these days. As far as you knew, Peter and Liz were still going strong. In all honesty you tried to avoid the topic whenever you and Peter had time to talk. In the time Liz and Peter had been dating, you had come to terms with the fact that you had feelings for Peter Parker. It wasn't something you liked to admit to yourself. How typical it was to be a person hopelessly in love with your oblivious best friend. And while rationally you knew you would just have to accept it, it sure didn't take the sting out of your best friend being in love with someone else.

“ Hi y/n!"

"Jeez Peter," You shouted and placed a hand over your racing heart. “You scared the shit out of me,”

“Sorry,” He smiled sheepishly as he smoothed out his messy hair. “What are you up to tonight?"

"I thought you had plans with Liz tonight?” You asked with a raised brow.

"I did but she bailed " Peter said, suddenly getting quiet.

“In that case, I’m free tonight,” You replied, making a mental note to ask him about why he’s acting weird later.

“Pizza and movie at my place?” He asked, his bright smile returning.

“Sounds like a plan, Parker,” You smiled at him before heading off to your next class.

The end of the day couldn't come fast enough. Not only were you excited to spend some quality time with Peter, you were also exhausted. Your teachers had been piling on the assignments and you couldn't wait to take a well- earned break.

You walked over to Peter’s apartment building and picked up a pizza on the way there. Even if Peter didn’t return your feelings, you had to admit that you missed hanging out with him like this. You missed the nights spent eating pizza and watching cringe horror movies, enjoying each other’s company. You wondered if you’d ever tell Peter how you felt about him. In all honesty, you didn’t know whether you would or not. On the one hand, you’d never know if he felt the same way if you never talked to him about it. On the other hand, you were almost sure he didn’t feel the same way and you didn’t want the verbal confirmation that he didn’t.

“Hey, Pete! I have pizza,” You said through the door as your knuckles tapped the surface a few times.

“Hi, y/n! Come on in,” Peter opened the door with a grin before taking the pizza box out of your hands.

"what are we watching?" you asked as you took off your jacket.

"I don't remember what it's called," Peter admitted, helping himself to a slice of pizza. "I know that it's a Romanian film of some kind,"

"Well, I’m definitely intrigued!” You let out a light laugh, missing now Peter beamed when he heard the beautiful sound of your laughter.

—

“I was not expecting that ending,” Peter said looking blankly at the now dark screen.

“That was certainly something,” You nodded in agreement.

The two of you were seated comfortably on the couch, Peter's arm resting on the cushions behind you, both of your legs sharing a cozy blanket. You stretched and yawned, checking the time. It was getting late but you weren't quite ready to leave Peter or the coziness of the blanket. Peter glanced at you and subconsciously scooted his body closer to yours. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but he started to see you as something more than a friend. At first Peter thought maybe the way he felt about you was like family, but he quickly realized he was in big trouble because he like-liked you. Peter Parker had a full on crush on you, his best friend. It made Peter feel guilty having these feelings for you while he was with Liz. When he said Liz bailed earlier, it wasn’t because she had something going on, it was because they decided to break up. Peter decided not to bring it up unless you did out of fear of making things weird.

“Hey, Peter?” You sat up a little straighter to look at him.

“Yeah?” Peter looked at you.

“When I mentioned Liz earlier today, you got all quiet and weird. Is everything okay?” You bit your lip, anticipating what his answer would be.

“We uh, we broke up,” Peter cleared his throat awkwardly, looking everywhere but at you.

“Oh...” You trailed off. “I’m sorry to hear that, I know you really liked her,”

It was an entirely bittersweet feeling to hear Peter say that he and Liz were no longer dating. Bitter because you knew that Peter was probably hurting and he was your friend before anything else, no matter how much you wanted to be more. Sweet because maybe, just maybe, you had some kind of chance with him.

“Y/n? Can I tell you something?” Peter broke the silence that had fallen between the two of you.

You nodded in his direction in affirmation, not trusting your own voice not to waver. The way he was looking at you was making you nervous. He looked like he had something serious to tell you. Peter gave you the same look the night he told you that he was Spider-Man. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but what if he was going to confess his love for you? What if this is the day the two of you cross the line from friendship into something more? It was more than enough to cause your palms to sweat and your heart to beat faster.

“I like you,” Peter breathed out, looking just as nervous as you felt.

“I like you too, Pete,” You replied, not fully understanding what he was trying to say to you.

“I mean that I like you in a love kind of way,” he said almost inaudibly. Although it was quiet, you heard him and you knew you heard him correctly.

You honestly couldn’t believe it. Here you were sitting in your best friend’s living room and he was confessing his feelings for you. This was a scenario you’d daydream about but it wasn’t something you thought would ever happen. Now that you’re in the moment, you don’t know what to say or how you should react. It’s so much better than you could have ever imagined it. Those words falling from Peter’s lips made your heart explode from fullness.

“I, uh, I like you like that too,” you said bashfully, biting your lip to keep your smile from growing too wide.

Peter let out the breath that he was holding before wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, breathing you in.

“I so glad you feel the same way, I was starting to think you weren’t going to respond,” Peter laughed, wiping pretend sweat from his forehead.

“I didn’t know what to say, I’ve liked you since forever!” You laughed, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Since forever, huh?” He smiled that dumb adorable smile you fell in love with and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well, maybe not forever, but almost,” you chuckled before planting a quick kiss on the tip of his nose.

That night didn’t end in the way you expected it to when you originally agreed to hang out with Peter, but you couldn’t have asked for a more perfect ending. The two of you talked until the early morning hours, nothing changing between the two of you except becoming more in love with one another.

—

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #peter parker reader insert #tom holland reader insert

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333dolans · 3 years

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If By Chance Pt. 2 // E.D

Part 1

Summary: It’s been 2 years since she’d last seen him, what would happen if by chance they were to meet once more?

Sorry for being gone for so long! Ive been super busy and just haven’t had any time to write. I’ll hopefully post a bit more regularly this year! I love you all mwah!!🥰

4:35pm, Great.

It was the first time she would be seeing Gray in what felt like eternity and she was already late, Classic Rory. In her defence, he had agreed to pick her up but a meeting running over later than expected meant she was left to fend for herself. The fact that she didn’t know her way around LA yet paired along with her general lack of time management left her here, outside of the adorable, little cafe Gray had sent her the address for.

She felt the explosion of butterflies erupt within her stomach at the sight of his car and pulled in next to it. She took a moment to compose her thoughts that seemed to be racing along with her heart. Taking a final deep breath, she climbed out from her car and made a start towards the cafe door.

From the very moment she laid her eyes on his tall figure, nothing could of slowed the pace she ran towards him. She called out his name and as he glanced up from his phone, the widest smile took over his face. Opening up his arms just in time, he caught her in his warm embrace. It felt good to be home.

“I missed you so much.” He sighed contently, spinning her around one more time before placing her body back firmly on the ground.

“Missed you more Grapeson.” She replied with a smirk.

“Wow... that’s gotta be a record, we’ve been together what? One whole minute and you’ve already said it.” He rolled his eyes, coaxing a giggle from Rory.

“I said we were bringing it back my love and i meant it!” She grinned smugly up at him before grabbing his hand and leading them into the coffee shop. As the little bell chimed, they were greeted by an older woman who beamed their way.

“Hello Grayson! Your usual i assume? And what can i get for you sweetheart?” She asked with a warm smile.

“Ill go get us a table, i know the best seats.” Grayson told her before wondering off to a far corner in the store.

“Ill get a hot chocolate please.” She replied graciously with a shy smile and the woman was quick to get started on the order.

“I’m Genevieve by the way but you my dear, can call me Gen! You know Grayson never mentioned he had a girlfriend, you’re absolutely gorgeous.” She began to make small talk as she poured Grayson’s coffee into its cup. Rory choked on air at gen’s words, gaping at her in shock.

“Were- were not together, just good friends.” She said with a deep blush.

“Oh my bad! You two would make a beautiful couple if i might say.”

Rory couldn’t help but smile at Gen’s bluntness, she loved her already. After some more casual conversation, Rory said her thank you to Gen and headed off toward the table Grayson had saved, gently placing their drinks on the tabletop before sliding into the booth seat. These seats in particular looked out onto a beautiful landscape and Rory couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief as she sank lower into the leather of the seat, this day couldn’t have gone any better. Nothing had changed between her and gray and she couldn’t be more thankful.

The two sat and talked for hours as the sun began to set on the city that awaited them just outside of the window. They filled each other in on everything and anything they could think of, from childhood memories to the launch of wakeheart. It was inevitable really, that they would eventually end up on the topic of a certain twin brother. No matter how much Rory had tried to change the subject, he always found a way back into the conversation, she knew shed have to face the music someday anyway, may as well bite the bullet sooner rather than later.

“He misses you, you know? He may be an absolute idiot and too damn stubborn to ever admit it but i know that he does. He still reads through your old messages and looks at old photos. He still checks your socials every now and then, I’ve seen him.”

Rory sighed with a small shake of her head.

“Gray, he dropped me remember? No one told him he had to do that, he got a girlfriend and she became more important. That’s life i guess and I’ve dealt with that knowledge for years now. He prioritised her over me and that’s on him.” She let her gaze drift from his face to the window beside her, now littered with stray raindrops from the light drizzle that had began.

She allowed herself to breathe deeply, basking in the feelings that a crisp fall breeze always managed to stir within her. God, did she love autumn. Nothing could compare to the sight of the leaves changing to colours of fire and passion before her very eyes. Along with the colder weather came rainy days, and with rainy days? Time she could spend huddled up in front of a window reading whatever book she’d chosen for that week. Everyone who has ever known Rory, would know full well she would would be half way through that book within the space of a few hours.

Something about the rain had always enticed her, she felt a strange comfort within the damp weather that left most people feeling miserable. She thrived in it, wanting nothing more than to cozy up in fluffy socks and warm layers of clothes and watch droplets race along the panes of the nearest window.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Slightly startled from his sudden appearance, she beckoned her breathing to calm down to a steady pace once again. She allowed her eyes to trail up his tall frame, soaking him in as much as she could. There stood Ethan in all his glory along with a piping hot mug of her favourite, hot chocolate. Rory was never much of a coffee drinker, always having a sweet tooth and preferring the chocolatey taste to the bitterness a cup of coffee would leave in her mouth for hours. Besides, no one likes coffee breath. She allowed her gaze to retreat back to its fixed spot, staring out into the forest that lined the perimeter of the Dolan’s backyard.

“Then I hate to break it to you E but you’ll be short of quite a few pennies by the time you’ve heard all of the thoughts that are running around my mind right now.”

She allowed a defeated sigh to slip past her lips, filling the silence that had fallen between the two. It was true, her mind had been all over the place ever since the moment the twins had told her of their plan to pursue a career in Los Angeles. She felt like her world was collapsing in on her and in a way, it was. Her whole life as she knew it consisted of Ethan and Grayson Dolan, she had spent practically everyday with the pair for as long as she could remember and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for that chapter of her life to be over.

“A hot chocolate instead? Please Rory, talk to me. I know this is going to be a big change for you, but it is for me and Grayson too yeah? Were all going to be feeling the same emotions in the next few weeks, we have to be there for each other and I can’t do that if you wont open up to me.”

Sliding down opposite her small frame on the cold hardwood floor of his childhood home, Ethan couldn’t help but become overwhelmed by his emotions. This had been his home for many years, it contained so many memories. These very walls had been witness to the life of the three best friends and the idea of leaving this part of his life behind, leaving his best friend behind? It tore Ethan to pieces but he was also optimistic for this exciting new chapter. He tried to remain positive and think of the new adventures they will get to have in the city of angels. The memories he can make with the ones he holds closest.

“Everything is changing E. I don’t think I’m ready to move on from this, I don’t want to be left behind again. I’m going to be so alone here, you guys are the only real friends I have. I don’t want to lose you, or Grayson.”

A stray tear made it’s way down her cheek as the rain continued outside. She looked up to meet the eyes of her best friend, the boy she’d always love. His hand reached out for hers and clasped it tightly in his own. She saw a flash of hope flash across his beautiful brown eyes that she adored so much.

“You could come with us you know? There’s a spare room in the apartment and you know I...we would love to have you there with us. We could go on so many adventures and explore California and we could-“

“E, as wonderful as that sounds, you know my mom would never let me just drop everything and go. What about school? College? You know what she expects of me. I really wish it was that simple.”

In that moment, Rory swore she saw a small piece of Ethan’s heart break away before her very eyes. She forced her tears back, choking slightly from the lack of air that seemed to be escaping her lungs. Why did this have to be so hard? Ethan paused for what felt like eternity before speaking once more.

“I’m going to miss you so much my little lion, so fucking much.”

He outstretched his arms, his warm embrace calling her name. She crawled over to him, closing the small gap that was between them. She clung to his torso as he stroked his fingers through her hair soothingly.

“Nothing is going to change between us Rory, absolutely nothing.”

“Why don’t you come back to our place? I’m not ready to say goodbye yet anyway and I know he’d love to see you. Please, just for a little while?” Gray’s words snapped her back from her reminiscing. He looked into her eyes with such hope, she just couldn’t say no to him.

“God damn those puppy eyes” she cursed under her breath, causing a smirk from Grayson who sat opposite her with a triumphant look on his face.

“I better not regret this Dolan.”

Tags: @rhyrhy462 @evergreendolan @dolansficsandpics @fangdolan @livexdolan @blindedbythelightt @baby-grayson @prettyboydolan @delightfuldolan @sosweetgrethan @episkygrant @resilientdolan @pineappledols @vinylhazza @hydrograyson @velvetdolan @baby-turtles @szadolans @cutestdolans @brockdolan @mercurygrant @abstractstardiva @guiltydols @blazedgraysons @blackpinkdolan @vintagedolan @babeygray @babey-gray @dolanpornhub @onlyyyariii @voidmalfoy @glossydols @graysonsdolansbabygirl @spideysimpossiblegirl @lovingdolans @bubsdolan @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @dolansbeanies @graydolan12 @dolantissue @thecharlietomygillespie @dolandolll @boujeeethan @softethan @risedols @evreths @everydaydolan

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yuzukult · 4 years

Text

candy stars || baekhyun & reader

title: candy stars pairing: reader x baekhyun genre: romance, soulmate!au words: ~5k+ prompt: soulmates unlock one of the five senses for people, some finally get the opportunity to feel, to see, to taste, to hear, or to smell. but what if you never find yours? notes: i decided i would make a soulmate story for each member of exo!! all stemming from a similar universe as city lights & under the moonlight. :)

The wind that hits your face is brisk, the trademark characteristic for the November air, tinting your cheeks pink, pink like the juices of strawberries that you bite into, dripping onto your palms and sliding down your arms. But the pinks don’t signify the same thing— your cheeks are stained like a winter heather, growing in the colder months and bringing the only color in a garden with a white blanket that drapes over, and the strawberries are just a reminder of the warmer days, something that seems so out of reach.

Someone without a soulmate might lack this quality— to be able to see these shades or feel the changes of weather. But those senses weren’t absent from your life, but rather the taste of the strawberry, the sweetness that it spews and bursts on your tongue. Instead, there’s nothing. Emptiness is what fills you, without the understanding of what sugar is and what people mean when they crave the treats or when there’s a comparison to a love that’s like confectionery.

Cups filled with hot chocolate steams out from the covers, the scent saturating your nose. You knew what it smelled like, the sweetness, but once bringing the warm liquid to your lips, the expectations for the taste dissipates.

“You sure you don’t want to try some?” Chanyeol asks, lifting up the styrofoam cup in his hand, offering some of the delicious goodness to you. “It tastes good.”

“I assume that it tastes good. Did you already forget? I don’t know what sweet is, Chanyeol.” Rolling your eyes at the older male, you stuff your hands into the pockets of your puffy jacket. “You only have one younger sister and you don’t even remember what qualities she’s lacking?”

“Other than the fact you have no soul and you’re lacking the quality of being a decently nice person—“

You shove your older sibling as he winces, hand trying to stabilize the drink but fails, some spilling out. “Hey!”

“If you maybe weren’t so rude—“

“Are you two really fighting again?” A familiar voice chimes in, snapping both of your heads in the direction of the melodic sound.

There he stands, handsome as ever, with his amber locks flowing in the route of the breeze. Hearing his voice again brought chills down your spine, warming your claimed cold heart, causing you to swallow. “Baekhyun, you’re back.” He’s gifting you with his soft smiles, so beautiful that if it were awarded for the impact it brings into a room, he’d win.

“As per requested by two out of the three Park siblings, I am here. You wanted me in Seoul and you got me, so, what did the two of you have in store for me?”

Baekhyun was always Chanyeol’s best friend, from beginning to end, hopefully. They’d have each other’s backs like the friendship between two main characters of a sitcom, constantly glued at each other’s sides until University hit. Baekhyun decided to go out of his comfort zone, residing somewhere in the outskirts of the countryside. Chanyeol stayed near home, or your difficult mother would be left alone with you after your eldest sister eloped with her now husband.

There was always something inside of you that had crushed on Baekhyun, but you knew that being Chanyeol’s little sister meant it was off limits. Nonetheless, you kept your focus on finding your soulmate instead, eager to find sweetness on your tongue.

“Should we head out for a quick bite?” Baekhyun suggests, nuzzling his nose into the scarf that wraps around his neck cozily. “We can catch up and plan everything there.”

The two of you agree, following Baekhyun whilst he raves about a cafe that he encountered over yelp and instagram one day. He states, “it’ll make you rethink what desserts you actually like,” and you want to remind him that you can’t taste sweets, but the eager expression on his face halts you from doing so.

Entering in the cafe, the bell rings simultaneously as the door opens in invitation. The aroma of the baked goods inundated your sense of smell to that point you can almost feel yourself relishing in the flavors until you come back to reality, recollecting that it doesn’t exist for you. Baekhyun and Chanyeol’s expressions were opposite from yours, inhibiting pure bliss.

“Ah, I totally forgot. My little sister here, the party pooper, doesn’t have a sense of taste.” Chanyeol glances over at you, nose and cheeks red from the harsh winter weather, gaze hinting for desperate approval. “Are you okay with eating here?”

“Well, we’re already here, aren’t we?”

“We could always go for something else, if you want. Is it just taste in general or a flavor?” Baekhyun jumps in, eyes wary. “There’s a pizza place next door if you’d prefer.”

“No,” You shake your head in response, bouncing on the balls of your feet in order to gain some warmth. “We can eat here. I can’t taste sugary things. You guys seem like you want to try it, and I want to enjoy the looks on your faces.”

“What’d you order?” You and Chanyeol are seated beside each other, previously waiting patiently for Baekhyun to bring the tray of drinks and pastries. Your mouth waters at how beautifully crafted they are and the pleasant odor that fills the room.

“I got the famous strawberry smoothies for the both of us,” He says, sitting across from the two of you, placing the glass cups onto the table. “And for you,” he then gestures at the dark iced liquid that drips in condensation in your view, “iced americano. It’s bitter, but I figured you’d at least be able to enjoy something rather than... nothing.”

On the tray sits several different types of pastries, over salivating the mouths to those who have a sweet tooth. In the midst of the conversation, Chanyeol and Baekhyun discussed the ideas of where to go for their annual winter trip, and you couldn’t help but trail your eyes all over Baekhyun.

He’s aged since you’ve last seen him— he’s grown into those baby cheeks of his, well, kind of, but he has upgraded from cute to handsome. After he’d slip off his thick camel trench coat and hangs it over the back of his chair, you’d become aware of how even a plain black t-shirt is snug on his frame and the sight of him makes you breathless. Baekhyun was the epitome of a character in a film where he’s the main character’s brother’s best friend that is just a little too old for you, yet a guy everyone falls for.

In this film— he’s your brother’s best friend who’s overly kind, shooting warm smiles your way, and for some odd reason, always there whenever you need him the most. Baekhyun was a dream, a dream that would never come true, and you knew this because being near him never unlocked your sense of sweetness. There was a bit of disappointment when you came to that recognition but nonetheless, he was the candy on the highest shelf you’d come to admire, desiring it but knowing it was out of reach.

“What do you think of the raspberry croissant?”

“Who would’ve thought that people would put raspberry and croissant together? This is... truly an art.”

A light hearted laugh escapes from Baekhyun’s grin, shaking his head at your brother’s response. “Dude, it’s just raspberry jam and a croissant, I’m sure plenty of places have it. I’m talking about how they made this— like, how soft yet crispy it is and the jam alone is just...” fingers pointed and pressed together in his hands, he gives it a chef’s kiss, “... perfection.”

Tearing a piece of the pastry off from Chanyeol’s hand as your brother reacts with a whimper, he holds it by your mouth with his own open, gesturing you to do the same. “Open up.”

“Why?” You question, raising a brow. “Because, even though you can’t taste it doesn’t mean it hurts to try. Open wide.”

You think it’s pointless, Baekhyun’s pursuit, but you can never say no to him so you comply, mouth slightly agape as he pushes the pastry in between your lips.

And for a moment, you almost thought you tasted something new.

Your taste buds tingle, sparking something within before the sweetness disappeared, causing your heart to race. The two men watched you in complexity as you grabbed Chanyeol’s drink, attempting to regain that feeling again.

“What’s wrong?” Baekhyun asks, brows furrowed in confusion. “Did it have a funny taste?”

Sipping the smoothie through the straw, your expectations disappeared once again when the only outcome of it was the cold liquid going down your throat. “I... swore I was able to taste the sweetness.”

“How do you know that it was sweet?”

“It’s the only flavor I’ve never had before.”

“Oh please,” Chanyeol interjects, cheeks full of the pastry. “If you could taste that sense right now, that would mean Baekhyun is your soulmate. That could never happen!”

Walking down the streets of Seoul, Chanyeol stops by a shop, actively looking for a gift for his lovely girlfriend, leaving you and Baekhyun standing by the exit of the store, waiting patiently.

“Speaking of... I never knew what quality you lacked for not meeting your soulmate. What is it, Baek?” He hums for a moment, playing with some of the knick knacks that sit on the shop shelves. “I can’t smell.”

“Wait— you can’t smell? At all?”

He shakes his head, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his trench coat. “Nope, nothing. That’s why I wear a shit ton of deodorant and try to go easy on the cologne. I can’t tell what’s too much.” How could Baekhyun not be able to smell? He loved food— always moaning at what you assumed was the pleasant aromas that filled the room, but now when you think about it, you never noticed how he never talked about the scent of things.

“But... you always smell so good,” You blurt, cheeks flushing crimson when you realize what you said. “I mean... you smell good whenever you walk by and I get a whiff of you.”

He chuckles, voice smooth and thick like honey, music to your ears. “Do I? I never knew what ‘natural smell’ I had. I heard people have it but I’ve never been able to actually... you know, experience that.”

Your brother had a majorly contrasting experience compared to you and Baekhyun— he didn’t lack any of his senses. In fact, he’s part of the portion of the population that possessed a marking, resembling one that his own soulmate has.

Chanyeol and Baekhyun were a textbook example of the outcomes of finding your soulmate. Chanyeol got to meet his, and despite the fact he rejected the belief that she truly was his mate, he eventually caved and fell in love with her. However, he never lacked anything. He just had a marking in resemblance to hers— the only identification he had to determine if she was his soulmate. But Baekhyun was the same age as your brother and hadn’t even gone close to meeting his. There were people who never got to meet their ‘the one’ but found love elsewhere, close in comparison. It wasn’t impossible to fall in love with someone who isn’t your mate, but who wouldn’t want to meet their soulmate?

“We found your soulmate.”

“What?”

You think, maybe it was a good idea you signed up for that research group on the flier that hung in the public bathroom stall of your university with a link to their website. If this was legitimately your soulmate, a session on the toilet was the beginning of how you found the true love of your life.

“Park...” The worker on the other line hesitated, reading what you assume is on the piece of paper resting in front of her before she says your name. “We are about 95% sure this person is your soulmate. But the problem is... he’s on his deathbed.”

“Excuse me?” Death bed? What did she mean? You’d just found out that someone knows who your soulmate is and they’re already telling you that he’s dying? “He’s... sick?”

“Yes,” she says, voice filled with concern and empathy. “It’s actually how we found out. His medical records are in the system, and we tried to match it to what was in your DNA from the research study you signed up for, and the soulmate component matched.”

You’re quiet for a moment, unsure how to respond with so much information being thrown at you. It was difficult to absorb. “So... now what? I lose a soulmate?”

“Well... we suggest you to at least meet him. Spend his last moments with him, and get to know who he is. He lacks the sense of taste for sweetness too, you know. Maybe... you both can get to experience it for the first and last time.”

First and last. All your life, you thought meeting your soulmate would lead you to the direction of feeling fulfilled— filled with awakened taste buds, traveling the world and being able to eat foods that you’d never been able to have before.

But that’s gone. All of that is gone. Your soulmate apparently only has 2 months left to live. You’d have to come to terms that once those two months are up, you really won’t be able to do those things again.

“How are you feeling?” Baekhyun asks, sitting on the stool by your kitchen island, fingers tapping anxiously against the granite top. He never fails to hop on the first train back to Seoul when you needed someone by your side. “You’re supposed to go meet him at the hospital this afternoon, right?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, drinking the tea that Chanyeol had finished brewing for you, deciding that he would be gentler with you today after finding out the news. “I was told he was on the verge of death the other day, but they were able to pull him out before they lost him. But after that, he told the doctors and nurses he didn’t want to be saved anymore. So... he has two months left.”

“Even when they told him they found his soulmate?” You nod slowly, tiredness evident in your eyes. “I guess it isn’t worth fighting anymore. How can I blame him though? He’s been sick for years. I can only imagine the pain and suffering he has been through.”

“Uh, hi.” You choke up after knocking on the window of the door quietly. “I’m.. uh,”

“My soulmate,” The man finishes, voice hoarse. He sounds gentle and kind, but his face shone exhaustion and ache. “I’m happy you decided you wanted to meet me, in spite of the selfish decision I made.”

“It’s okay to be selfish,” You retort, gifts in hand as you approach to the side of his bed. “You’ve been suffering for so long.”

“If only I met you sooner,” He says with a soft smile, and just the sight alone made it feel like all your worries had gone away. He’s beautiful, regardless of the state he’s in, and you could only imagine what he looked like when he was up and going. Skin pale as ice and lips chapped from the treatments, he looks cold and frozen, but right when he tugged the edges of his mouth upwards for you, you’re the one who melts. “Then there would’ve been something worth fighting for. Right now, it’s too unbearable. I hope you forgive me—“

“Don’t say that,” you quickly interject, taking the seat next to him. “I could never hate you. You’re my soulmate, how could I?”

“You won’t get to taste the sweetness again when I go.” He says shakily, eyes tearing up as you lean over to swipe your thumb against the skin of his cheek, the wetness smearing away, “It’s okay. I get to try it just for a little bit, and that’s all that matters. I got to see you, I got to taste the flavor that people describe good things as. When you are finally at peace, I go back to where I was before, yes, but I got to meet you and that makes it all worthwhile.”

You two of you spent almost everyday together. Eventually, he officially introduces himself as Cha Eunwoo, just a year older than yourself. He shares stories about how he used to be a rock climber, hands full of calluses to prove it, before he learns he has leukemia. He mentions how he developed the symptoms about a year ago, when the thing he loved the most became a chore— bones weak and tired, constantly getting chills and fevers occurring. He’d occasionally go climbing, despite his fatigue, and he’d find himself bruising easily compared to initially. Deciding to finally go to the doctor, albeit his efforts to avoid them by ditching his yearly visits, he’d been diagnosed with the cancer, his future deteriorating before his eyes.

You’d bring sweets for him almost daily, along with a meal. Whether lunch or dinner, you made sure your presence was known. Eunwoo deserved the best few months of his life, and knowing him for just a week made you realized how much of an impact he had on your life.

More than the first time the both of you try sweets.

“Let’s try it at the same time.”

“On the count of three?”

Both holding a cupcake in hand, wax paper already peeled off, you eye each other mischievously, ready to take your first bites of the dessert.

“One,” He says teasingly, waiting for you to continue.

“Two,” You continue onto his antics, a grin stretched across your face.

“Three!” With that and mouths open wide, as a couple, you chomp on the delight, eyes almost rolling to the back of your heads.

Chocolate cupcake with buttercream frosting— a classic that Chanyeol suggested— pretty much sparking inner fireworks on your tongue. You’d never experienced this feeling before; it had been a different kind of bliss, one you never knew you were missing out on. You finally understand why Chanyeol and Baekhyun were raving about the café you visited the other day; your brother texting his group chat of friends that they have to come here next time. With such a feeling from eating a cupcake from a franchise grocery store and obtaining this deep of a sensation— you could only imagine trying that café again.

“Holy fuck,” Eunwoo curses, bulging eyes and remains of the baked good on his face that exasperates a laugh from you. “That shit... is fucking good.” There’s a twinkle in his eyes that you catch, and your heart clenches at the sight.

You get why people compare their loved ones to sweets. How when old couples call their significant others “sweetheart” or “sweetie.” Or when Baekhyun and Chanyeol’s faces lit up in glee at the thought of inhaling those baked goods at that café a couple months ago, mouths watering at the thought of their tongues tasting the sweetness of the desserts. It was a feeling you never thought you’d long for until now.

Eunwoo was sweet, you think to yourself. His hair is dark as the chocolate in the cupcake, and his voice sounds as sugary and smooth as the frosting. The first bite of the common baked good is a reminder of how addicting being with Eunwoo is, like the taste of the cupcake and how you can’t seem to get enough of it. Your eyes trail to his lips— so plump and pink, just like strawberries and you’re suddenly curious on what the fruit tastes like, but your mind is flooded with the thought of how his lips tasted like.

Bold is what you’re feeling today. You figure that if this was your last shot to make a move on him, you’d regret it later. And life... Well life is always full of regrets, but you didn’t want this to be one of them.

Seated on the edge of his hospital bed, his brows are raised questioning at the shift of atmosphere. “What is it?”

“I just... don’t move.” Pushing your weight on your arm that rests by his leg, you lean in, eyes fluttering shut since pressing your lips gingerly onto his.

Eunwoo didn’t just taste sweet, Eunwoo was sweet.

Reality hits hard, even if you already know what the future holds.

Your soulmate passes peacefully in his sleep a month ago, and the thought of him disappearing from your life is a constant indication that the nightmare was your reality. The memories of Eunwoo are embedded into your head, his face reoccurring in your dreams only made you mourn harder.

“Are you sure you’re fine? Your drink is melting.” A voice interrupts your thoughts.

Baekhyun invites you out for coffee, ordering you an iced americano like he did last time. It’s just the two of you for this occasion, and you don’t question the absence of your older brother from your mind being fogged up of the loss of Eunwoo.

“I’m... holding up. I’ll be okay later,” You assure the older male, attempting to pull the edges of your mouth into a smile. It’s harder to showcase your jubilance lately but thankfully Baekhyun doesn’t probe you to. “Thanks for getting this for me, by the way. I guess I’m still trying to get used to the fact I can’t enjoy dessert beverages anymore.”

He shrugs slightly in response, opening the plastic packaging off his blueberry muffin. “I know you’re going through a lot, Eunwoo sounded like a nice guy and I wish I could’ve met him. But... he’d want you to keep living your life. Don’t stop yourself from doing the things you want to do because you met him and he’s gone now.”

“It just feels... so wrong to do things without him because he’s my soulmate.”

“Well, I can almost guarantee that Eunwoo would be pissed if you weren’t at least trying to put yourself in a good mood.”

He... wasn’t wrong, but you’d never tell Baekhyun that he was right about anything. Maybe you’d try— just a little more for Eunwoo. You got to meet him, learn who he was as a person, and even though Baekhyun never met the guy, his observation and assumption of him was spot on. Straightening your slouching back in the seat, you lean over to take a sip of your drink, eyeing his selection off the menu.

Changing the topic at the sight of his drink, you burst out, “What... the hell did you even order?”

Baekhyun hums for a moment, lips pursed in thought. “I think this is a vanilla, caramel, java chip frap.”

“What?” He laughs at your distorted facial expression, peeling the plastic off the straw fore poking it into the top of the drink. Peculiarly, he brings the cup to your lips. “Try it yourself.”

“Baekhyun, what’s the point of trying—“

“I said try it, Park. Give it a shot.” Watching him doubtfully as you tilt your body toward his offering, your mouth opens in invitation as he brings the drink closer to you. Sucking on the straw for a brief moment, it hits.

It hits.

The drink wasn’t only cold— it was sweet.

“Is this— but how? This is so sweet, Baekhyun!” Taking a moment to let the taste sink in, your face winces in realization at how sweet it is. “Baek, why is this so sweet, I swear that just that one sip alone could give me diabetes.”

He watches you attentively, placing the cup back onto the table. “You taste it, right? You actually taste it?”

“Yeah, I do. But how? When Eunwoo passed, the taste disappeared. I thought I’d never experienced it again... unless...”

There’s silence between the two of you. Thoughts started to flood your head; what did this mean? Why did you suddenly get the taste back? Eunwoo was gone, and you were absolutely sure of it because you attended his open casket funeral. And why was Baekhyun so persistent with you trying sweets?

“I know this sounds weird, but there’s a theory.” Reclining in his seat, he takes in a deep breath before wiping his hands on a nearby napkin. “I’ve read somewhere that there are more than one soulmates to a person, and that possibly when one passes, it means the opportunity to meet your next one is... well, possible.” You don’t say anything but gesture your head for him to continue.

“My soulmate passed too. I never got to meet her but I found out that she passed because I joined that research group when you told me about it. They informed me that they found her in the system, but she had gotten into a car accident when she was young. I honestly thought I’d never get to smell anything— ever.” Pausing for a moment, he tightens his lips at the memory of a couple months ago. “Then... remember when we were here last time and you thought you could taste that raspberry croissant? That same exact moment, I actually... smelled that. My sense of smell was so strong in fact that I could smell Chanyeol’s fart that he passed moments after.”

“What are you saying?” You blurt.

“I’m saying, that moment we got our senses might be that very moment Eunwoo almost died.”

You recall the conversation you had with the woman on the other line when she delivered the news that they had found your soulmate. How Eunwoo was barely holding on, and days before he was on the verge of death before the nurses were able to save him.

“It’s crazy, I know. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And honestly, I couldn’t even stop thinking about you. Hearing Chanyeol constantly tell me about how you’re with Eunwoo almost everyday pretty much broke me, but I know that he’s biologically your soulmate, so what am I supposed to do?”

Did... Baekhyun just confess?

Unsure of what to say to his words, you abruptly grab his drink again, startling him as you slurp aggressively. Sweet, cold, sweet. It was disgusting, you had to admit, with all these flavors in one drink, but there was no denying how in awe you were that you could even taste it.

“Baekhyun, this is disgusting.”

“I honestly only picked that drink because I wanted to test the waters.”

And with that, he was able to bring your lips into a beaming smile for the first time since Eunwoo’s death.

The thought of your brother’s cool best friend falling in love with you sounds like a cliche, something you never thought yourself could be reality. After meeting Eunwoo, it felt like the end, something that most people who lose the love of their lives feel, as though there isn’t a purpose anymore. But hearing Baekhyun pour his heart out to you, even knowing he had to suck up his feelings for you when he finds out you’ve met your soulmate, makes you believe again. Believe that there’s more to life, even when your mate is gone, and it’s worthwhile to keep exploring.

And although your wishes were to explore with Eunwoo, exploring with Baekhyun sounded just as good.

Baekhyun wouldn’t replace Eunwoo, is what you learn. He’d occupy another part of your heart, loving you the way that Eunwoo would have, and honoring his previous role in your life.

“Chanyeol, you put way too much sugar in that.”

“I’m starting to miss when you didn’t meet your soulmate.” Your brother grimaces, swatting you away with his spatula. He was attempting to recreate your mom’s kimchi jjigae, which you tried to tell him that she doesn’t even put sugar in it, to which he argues that you’re not a professional in tasting things. “I also miss when Baekhyun was mine.”

You fail to notice Baekhyun’s feelings for you over time— his effort to travel from the countryside to come see you on occasion during his college years and incessantly telling Chanyeol to invite his little sister when he really didn’t want to. Even attending family gatherings as Chanyeol’s guest, when really he wanted to charm your parents in case he’d ever get the chance to win your heart one day. Chanyeol wasn’t supportive of Baekhyun’s feelings for you only because he didn’t want him to interfere with the opportunity to meet your soulmate— only late to find out that Baekhyun is your soulmate.

“Baekhyun is still yours, you idiot, or else we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Are you telling me that you don’t want to spend time with your only brother?”

“Honestly, Yeol, I rather not—“

“Whoa whoa whoa, what’s going on here? Are the Park siblings fighting yet again?” As usual, Baekhyun enters into the kitchen, handsome as ever dressed in a simple basic t-shirt still hitches your breath. He slides his arm underneath yours, snaking it around your waist to pull into his embrace, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I thought we discussed not having a fist fight with Chanyeol this weekend and trying to be civil.”

Squinting your eyes at the taller male, you scrunch your nose despite softening in the warmth of Baekhyun. “I’m trying. But Yeol here isn’t great at compromising.”

“I told you. All you have to do is return Baek to me and we’re all good.”

“You have a girlfriend! Why are you trying to steal my boyfriend from me? Don’t you get enough love from her?”

“I want Baek’s love.”

“There’s enough love to go around, stop fighting!” In contempt of his tone, he was amused. His ego must be inflating that very moment. Chanyeol frowns, turning away to the sink to dispose of his utensils.

Precipitously, Baekhyun swings his head to face you, a mischievous smirk on his face. “What?” You furrow your brows questioningly before he surprisingly plants a kiss on your lips.

“Nothing... you just smell really good.”

And Baekhyun... tasted sweet like honey.

Baekhyun is sweet.

#baekhyun #byunbaekhyun #byun baekhyun #baekhyunxreader #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun & reader #baekhyun&reader #exo #exofics #exo fic #exo fanfic #baekhyun fanfiction #exo fanfiction #gyukultfics

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flowersoldier · 4 years

Text

Coffee

Cloud hates coffee, but goes to a coffee shop and drink some just so he can see Aerith, who works there.

AO3 ff.net

Coffee

Cloud hated coffe. He really did. It didn't smell good and the bitter taste was terrible. No matter how many milk and sugar he'd add. But still...He couldn't help but go to a certain coffee shop everyday for some gross coffee. Why? It's kind of a long story.

----------------------------

Zack once dragged him in there and at the counter was the most beautiful girl he's ever seen in his life. Actually he couldn't even keep track on what Zack was talking about then. For some reason Zack, the womanizer, was unfazed by her beauty.

But once it was their turn to order, he found out why. They knew each other. As they talked, Cloud tried to not show any emotions on his face. No surprise, no frown and above all he had to make sure not to stare at her. Last one was very difficult, because he couldn't look anywhere else but her eyes. They were so green, so...wow. Cloud didn't listen to their friendly conversation, as he was busy staring and trying not to stare at her. Even if he didn't hear the words she said, her voice sounded so angelic. Now he'd believe in angels.

The blonde only started listening when his name was mentioned. “This is Cloud.“ Zack introduced him and as her eyes met him, he felt like running away, or shrinking. He felt unworthy. “Oh, you're Cloud? Zack has told me everything about you.“

Her words worried him. What did Zack tell her? Now he couldn't help but frown. “What did he tell you?“ He asked looking at Zack and then back to the girl.

“Only the best of course.“ Said his best friend and put an arm around him.

“I'm Aerith, nice to meet you.“ The girl said, holding a hand out to him to shake it. Cloud couldn't help but repeat her name in his mind over and over. It was just as beautiful as she was. A few seconds passed and as she tilted her head, he realized his mistake.

He took her small hand and gave it a little shake. It was so tiny compared to his hand, but it fit in perfectly. “Uh, Cloud.“ He said, before his slow brain reminded him that she already knew this name. “I-I mean...nice to meet you.“

Aerith giggled and the blonde felt his face heat up. That was very embarrassing...“Okay, Cloud, what can I get you?“ The question reminded him that they were in a coffee shop and that he probably should order something. Luckily no one was behind them so they were able to chat in peace. “Uh...“ Cloud quickly looked through the menu. He wasn't at all familiar with the different names or what was in the several drinks.

“Hey and you're not asking me?“ Asked Zack, looking like a sad puppy.

“I know what you want.“ She said dismissively, while Zack pouted.

“But what if I want something else today?“

“Shush!“ His friend was immediately silenced. That was indeed a rare sight. Never had a girl shushed Zack before.

And Cloud still had no idea what to get. “Uh...coffee. Small.“ He said lamely.

“Black?“ Aerith asked, as she turned away to prepare the drinks.

“...Yes.“ What was he getting himself into? Coffee was gross and black coffee was the worst. He tried to ignore Zack's weird look.

“To go?“

“No, we'll stay here.“ Answered Zack, who now got a look from Cloud. Zack said they'll get something and be on their way again.

“Okay, I'll bring you the drinks when they're done.“

Cloud followed his friend to a booth and sat across from him. Unfortunately he had a good view on Aerith...Not that he didn't like looking at her, no, he enjoyed it way too much. And as they sat there, the blonde tried not to look at Aerith or Zack, who's grinning at him the whole time. “Why are you looking at me like that?“ Cloud grumbled eventually.

“Oh, you know...I just never thought I'd ever see you fall in love with someone.“ Cloud frowned. Of course he knew what he's talking about. He just didn't like it that he was so obvious.

“I don't know what you're talking about.“ He lied, looking out the window to avoid his gaze.

“Well, I think you do. Don't think I didn't notice how you were looking at her. And we both know you hate coffee, so why would you order that?“

“Maybe I'll like it now.“ Said Cloud, even if he knew it won't happen. And ordering chocolate or tea would look weird, right? Would would she think about it? Why did he even care? Clouds mind went blank instantly when Aerith brought their orders. Zack's 'as usual' and his gross black coffee. Still he got a little cookie and a pack of sugar. That's okay like that. That's normal.

“Enjoy it, boys.“ She said, before leaving again and if Cloud didn't know better he'd swear he saw her wink at him. But that was impossible.

Making sure she won't see it, Cloud ripped open the little sugar pack and dumped everything into the black liquid. “Oh? You want it sweet after all?“ Asked Zack teasingly, but Cloud ignored him as best as he could.

A few seconds ticked by without any of them talking. But one question really bugged him. “So...how do you know her?“ Asked the blonde eventually, trying to sound casual.

“We were together.“ Answered his best friend and took a sip of the drink Cloud didn't even want to try to pronounce. But his words shocked him. They were together...So this was the girl he kept rambling about. But why did they break up? Zack apparently could read his frown and added. “It didn't work out. So we decided to be just friends.“

But Clouds frown only deepend at that. “It didn't work out? You were talking about her nonstop, I thought you really loved her.“

“Oh, I did. But I felt bad that I had to work so much. We could barely spend some time alone. So I thought maybe it's better if we stay friends and if she liked, she can find someone who can give her his full attention at any time.“

Cloud took a few seconds to think about his words. It's true that he didn't have much time. Even with him. He was part of SOLDIER, after all...Cloud wanted to be in SOLDIER, too when he was younger. But he didn't make it. It was very disappointing and since then he was too afraid to call his mother and tell him the news. It...has been a few years...Now he had his own delivery service and could even effort a nice bike. With some little, unwanted help of Zack. “I see...“ He mumbled, before trying his coffee. It was still gross. Not even the sugar could make the bitterness go away.

“I think you'd be great for her.“ Cloud was so surprised at his words that he almost spit out the coffee.

“W-what?“ This had to be a joke. Zack was just teasing him, like always. But...he looked very serious right now...

“Cloud, that was your love at first sight moment right there. I know that because it happened to me, too. Believe me.“ Cloud stared blankly at his coffee. There's no way someone like her would fall in love with him. There was nothing about him to like. “Just remember. If you ever have the courage to make the first move on her, you have my blessing.“

That sounded more like Zack expected him to propose to her...“Just take your time and think about it. But not too long or she'll have someone else, you know.“

Cloud rolled his eyes. He's being very helpful again...“Thanks. I guess.“

-------------------------

Which brought him to the current situation. Since that day, Cloud came to this place everyday. And everyday he drank this gross coffee, but the little chats with Aerith were worth it.

Of course he didn't 'make a move on her', since they barely even knew each other. And she was way out of his league anyway. At least they could be friends. “Hey, Cloud.“ Greeted Aerith and smiled at him brightly. “Same as always?“ She asked, before he could greet her back. He already had his usual 'yes' ready, but stopped when she added “Or should I make you a surprise drink today?“

Well, Cloud really wondered what the surprise might be. Probably better than his usual coffee. “Yeah, go ahead. Surprise me.“ The smile on Aerith's face widened, she seemed very excited that he let her. “What does this surprise of yours cost me?“ He asked the obvious but she surprised her with her answer.

“It's on the house.“

The blonde frowned. Everyone else would be happy about it, but not him. “What? Don't be ridiculous. 5 Gil?“

Cloud grabbed his wallet to pay for the drink, but Aerith pushed it away. “I said it's on the house.“ She said, pouting at him.

“And I said don't be ridiculous.“ Then, the very next second, Aerith snatched his wallet away and put it below the counter. “H-hey!“ The girl's glare and pout was enough to shut him up. This might be the most frightening sight ever.

Aerith turned away to prepare his surprise. “Do you mind if I spend my break with you?“ She asked in her normal voice.

“Uh, s-sure. I mean...I don't mind.“ Without looking at him, she pointed to the booth and only said “Sit.“ At first Cloud wanted to tell her that he was no dog, but he stopped himself. He didn't want to argue with her and he definitely didn't want another glare from her. So he quietly left to take a seat.

He waited a few minutes till Aerith arrived with his drink and sat across from him. She had her own mug with her and something to eat. “Heya.“ She said, smiling at him as always. Then she put his wallet on the table. “Here. Now put it away.“ Cloud rolled his eyes playfully, before doing what he's told. After that he looked at his cup. Aerith had made sure that he couldn't see what's inside, so if he wanted to find out what's inside he had to try it.

He took a sip, expecting to taste something bitter, but it was sweet. And a very familiar sweetness, too. “Hot chocolate?“ He asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I saw the faces you make when you drink coffee.“ Aerith replied, smiling at him, while he tried to hide his face. This was so embarrassing...“I asked Zack about it and he told me you actually hate coffee.“ Now his embarrassment turned to anger. Of course he'd do that. “I thought maybe you prefer something sweet instead...“

Well, there was nothing for him left to say except “You're right.“ Aerith took a sip of her drink, before leaning on a table and looking at him with a teasing glint in her eyes. She didn't even say anything yet and he wanted to change the subject already.

“So do you want to tell me why you're coming here everyday, ordering something you hate?“ Cloud looked at anything but her and gave himself the best excuse not to talk with her, he drank more of his chocolate. But she didn't let it go. “So?“

“No.“ He eventually replied, as he put the cup down. Aerith pouted at him again, but it won't work on him this time. He couldn't tell her that he only came here everyday because of her!

“Cloud? We're friends, right?“ Now what did she plan this time? They never really called each other friend, to be honest Cloud wasn't even sure they were this close already, but his answer was clear.

“Of course.“ They were friends. Weren't they? Being friends was a good start.

“I need your advice for something.“ For once she sounded hesitant and shy.

“Yes?“ He unconsciously leaned on the table and stared at her directly wanting nothing more than to know what made her be this way.

“You know...Some guy asked me on a date.“ Cloud tried to ignore the sudden pang in his heart. Was he too late? “I don't know him at all. He's actually just a costumer who suddenly asked me on a date. Now I'm wondering what I should do.“

Cloud had no idea why she was asking him for advice. Didn't she have a best female friend to talk about these things? Plus he really had to hold herself back there. He was feeling kinda jealous and hoped Aerith would say no to that random guy. “Uh...is...is he your type?“ Cloud asked, thinking this might be a good thing to start with.

And Aerith's answer took a bit too long for his liking...“I don't know. Maybe?“ That was a bad answer...and he couldn't lose her to some random stranger.

“If you're not so sure then maybe you shouldn't go. I mean...I wouldn't go out with someone I'm not feeling attracted to, either.“ He said, before drinking his chocolate again. “What is your type?“

Aerith took a sip of her drink, too and thought about it for a while. “I like...guys who are cute and awkward. Blonde. Gorgeous blue eyes.“ Now he knew what's going on. She's trying to tease him. But unfortunately it's working...“Guys who blush, when they get compliments.“ She added, just as he looked away to hide his red face. “Clooouud.“ The blond kept looking away from her, that is until she stood up and went over to his seat. Cloud inched away from her in his boot until his back hit the wall. At the same time Aerith sat down very close to her, till their legs and bodies were pressed together. Still Cloud tried to lean away from her. “You're too cute, you know that?“ His blush deepened at that and even though he tried to hide it, he was sure she could clearly see it. “And so dense, too.“ At that Cloud looked at her, only to see her smiling brightly. He should be angry at her, but he wasn't. “I was just kidding. No one asked me out.“ The blonde couldn't help but silently sigh in relieve. It wasn't too late. But why did she...? Was that just a trick to make him ask her out? She did literally say he's her type...

“Aerith...?“ He began, but then his voice died. This was kinda awkward, but she did expect this from him, right? The woman just looked at him, her eyes shining as brightly as always. Still, whatever he tried, he couldn't get a tone out. He could just look at her with his mouth open.

“Of course I'll go out with you, Cloud.“ She said eventually, after another silent moment. Her smile was blinding him, but he couldn't look away. Even if she said she wanted to go out with him, it didn't feel right because he couldn't get the words out. But before he could try it again, Aerith spoke. “Sorry. I hoped I could make you jealous. Zack told me you like me.“ Zack...Cloud will kill him the next time they meet up. “And I like you, too, and when you came here everyday I thought you'll ask me out eventually.“

The blonde couldn't help but feel bad. The whole time she waited for him to ask her on a date...“Wait...what?“ Did she just say she liked him, or was he hearing things? He stared into her beautiful green eyes and for the first time he actually saw how close they were now. She was leaning all the way over to him. Just a bit more and she'd sit on his lap...The thought alone made him blush more.

“I like you, Cloud. I really do.“ 'Like' was no way near 'love' but goddamnit he'll take it!

After swallowing a big lump stuck in his throat he tried again, and also feeling really stupid doing so. “Aerith...?“ Said girl only tilted her head and waited patiently for him to keep talking. It took him a minute, maybe three, before he could get his voice to function. “Aerith, I...“ He tried looking away, but it's impossible not to look into her eyes. “I like you and I...wanted to ask you if you wanna go out with me.“ There. He said it.

Aerith's smile brightened even more and she surprised him by kissing his cheek. That was very unexpected -which was actually quite normal when it came to Aerith- but not unwelcome. “Sure. Whenever you want.“

Right now, till the moment I die., he thought, but of course he couldn't say it out loud. The only thing he was capable of was returning her smile slightly. “I mean it. Your eyes are gorgeous.“

Cloud looked away, embarrassed, but only for a moment. “They're nothing compared to yours.“ He said with a meek voice.

“Naaw, you're so cute.“ She squealed and kissed his cheek again.

#clerith #cloud strife #aerith gainsborough #fanfictions #fanfics #final fantasy vii #ffvii #se #square enix

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bloodandpaintchips · 3 years

Text

Bar & Murder Tips

Tagging→ Andrea Sheldon, Johnny Arcos Time Frame→ 11/29/2020 around midnight. Location→ Sangren, Colorado General Notes→ They’ll continue these conversation topics after the hangover.

For a moment, Andrea was distracted with all the bottles lining Johnny’s counter, and their colors. He’d told her things here and there, tips on working behind the bar at TARTARUS but this was the first time he was showing her anything. She’d mentioned the need for a small purpose again, needing somewhere to be and a schedule before she lost her mind or herself again. She didn’t know what to expect, her palette for alcohol being very limited considering she didn’t start drinking beer until her mid-twenties and liquor, until after she “died.” She could be terrible at this, or she could be mildly competent; she had no way of knowing. “So...the sheer possibility of combinations here is kind of intimidating.”

"I find it odd that you still get intimidated," purred the witch as he set yet another bottle on the counter. Nothing too expensive, but definitely nothing he served the more... economical customers. The drinks he intended to make with Andy, no matter how terrible, would not be wasted. "Someone tells you what they have a taste for and you follow the notes of that taste to produce something they would like." With a wave of his hand, he willed the lights in the kitchen to dim and music to waft into the room like a breeze. "It does help, however, to know what the alcohol tastes like. Do you know what vermouth is, my Andy?"

Andrea snorted, turning her gaze away from the bottles to look at him. “You’d be surprised what things change and what things don’t.” She left it at that, drumming her fingers on the countertop and listened to his explanation. “Seems simple enough, except I don’t know what most of this tastes like. And no, I have no idea what vermouth is. Except I’ve heard the word. I know shots of whiskey and various beers. Please don’t be as judgemental during this as you are about my clothes,” she joked. There wasn’t much to make fun of at this moment; the great thing about training at home was the fact that she could learn this in the oversized tee she slept in, bare feet on the floor, barely feeling the cold.

"I will absolutely be as judgmental about this as I am about everything else. Your clothing is awful," he tacked on. He pulled a glass from the counter behind them, then reached for the bottle of Cocchi Vermouth di Torino. "We will drink." He poured her a glass and then himself. "Hold this. Smell it."

The only comeback she gave him was an eye roll before he moved on to grab a fancy bottle (they were honestly all fancy, nothing you’d find in the liquor store with the flickering OPEN light downtown). She could already smell it as he was pouring it, and she was intrigued, taking the glass from him and inhaling like he asked. “Wow. It’s like sweet and spicy. Really…” she raised her eyebrows a bit, holding the glass away a little. “Strong. I like it though. Makes me think of autumn.”

He sipped a bit at his glass, rolling the amber liquid along his tongue. "Vermouth comes in this sweet, red form, but also in a dry, white form - which is used for martinis. I prefer the sweet, but with the dry, I like to pair it with lemons. What do we think pairs well with our autumn taste?"

She listened, making a mental note. “In the past I may have hated the dry version, but lately I’ve been trying a lot of things I may have hated and liking them, so who knows. I like the sweet though. And I don’t know, maybe something like orange? Citrus seems like the way to go still. Do people ever pair things with juice?” She took a sip, surprised to find she really enjoyed it alone. She liked the spices and the warmth in her mouth. It made her throat prickle in a way she liked.

Nodding approvingly, he downed the rest of his drink, then poured another glass. "Everything can be paired with juice, but one must be aware of the full flavor of things. Red vermouth is sweet already, spicy... woodsy and herbal - orange is an excellent choice. Add gin and you have a cocktail." His freshly poured drink went back just as fast and he set his glass in the sink. "What is a taste that you like that isn't citrus?"

Andrea smirked, a little proud of herself like a good student when he said the word “excellent.” She watched him knock back the drinks, an eyebrow raising in curiosity. “I like cranberry. I like most berries actually. Chocolate...I’m not sure what the right answer is really.” She ran her fingers along her glass before pushing it towards him. “Do you get drunk easily? Like in terms of being human?”

"Oh, I get drunk very easily," he told her, even as he took her glass and pulled the bottle of cognac forward. Her used glass went into the sink and was replaced with a clean one, which he poured a taste into before giving it back. "Cognac can be spicy as well and has hints of fruit and chocolate. Hold it on your tongue a bit."

She took the new drink from him, taking a sip and holding it in her mouth like he asked. “I can taste that...but the thing I think I taste the most is nuts. Maybe walnut? Kinda think this would taste good with blood.” She said the last part quietly, briefly thinking about how she had to take care of that soon. She’d succeeded in making it feel like a job. For a few seconds she felt like the lamest creature ever, but she pulled herself out of the distraction by downing some more of it. “What goes with this?”

"That is not the first time I have heard that; many of our... guests at the bar have asked for a bit of this with a few fingers of O-positive." Johnny watched her drink the mouthful with curious eyes, lingering over her expression to gauge a reaction. "Overall," he continued, "Cognac is very good - alone, mixed with ginger ale or lemonade, all kinds of ways really." He poured himself a taste and knocked it back, shaking his head as he began to feel the drink. "Tequila next, I think."

She raised an eyebrow at that, feeling strangely validated she wasn’t the only one who thought that about the flavor profile. “I need to get more comfortable saying things like that. I still talk about blood like it’s my dirty secret,” she said, laughing a little. “But lemonade seems like it’d be really good with this too, so I’ll also keep that in mind. “Tequila. Don’t people usually just take that in shots?”

"Tequila is really quite versatile - shots, sours, cocktails... margaritas!" He turned and reached for the blender beside the sink then, with a blink of empty, black eyes, the blender was filled with a light green mix of alcohol and ice, buzzing away until he stopped it.

Squinting her eyes at the witch, Andrea couldn’t help but smile as she noticed he was getting a little looser with every swallow. “You get a little swishy when you’ve had a couple drinks, Johnny,” she told him, smile getting wider as she admired him. An eyebrow raised when he materialized margarita mix and she simply helped herself. “I think you should know that I’m beginning to feel these and will probably pay less attention to how the drinks are made, so for now let’s just focus on how they taste,” she said, sipping.

"You have to know how to taste... how the drinks taste when you are serving them," he agreed with a lofty nod, holding out a glass for her to pour his margarita into. He gulped a mouthful, scowling at the brain freeze, but soon he was moving his hips to the music playing and chuckling. "'Swishy' is a good word, my Andy. More tequila - a sunrise! Ironic."

Andrea laughed, rolling her eyes and taking another sip of her drink. “Ah yes, sunrises. Loved those.” She tried to make it sound like she said it in jest, but it likely just came out as bitter. “Hopefully the drink is pretty,” she added, smirking whenever she noticed him get a brain freeze. It made her very aware of her lack of one. The more she had to drink, the more she found herself getting lost in thought about those changes.

"Yes, a sunrise!" He reached for her hand then and rolled her cool fingers between his own. "I will give you sunrise," he said, then sealed the promise by lifting her fingers to his mouth for a kiss. He then reached for a new bottle of 1942 and the grenadine. "You will find, my Andy, that adding grenadine to just about any drink will please any sorority girls that wander into the bar." Once he was finished with the drink, he swiftly exchanged her margarita for it.

She let herself be distracted by his promising kiss to her knuckles, smiling and letting him take her glass. “For a moment I was worried you were going to give me a literal ball of fire, but this will do fine.” She chuckled at his advice, tucking it away for future reference, because if she remembered anything, she remembered the greek crowd. Sipping the new drink, her eyebrows went up and she downed it before setting the glass down. “I like that one.” She slid the empty vessel toward him so he could refill it. “Can I tell you something that I have to say out loud before I explode?”

He hummed inquisitively as he swallowed the last of his sunrise and waved his fingers so that the music changed to 'More Than A Woman' by Aaliyah.

She turned around and jumped up to sit on the counter as she waited for him to make their drinks again. Swinging her legs for a moment and listening to the song, she finally went on. “I think I burned the bridge with my dad. Like burned it, totally,” she said, holding out her palm in a leveling motion. “I went back there to fix things and made them worse. I should stop trying to fix things. Drink more tequila sunrises.”

This stalled his hand as it reached for the next bottle and he turned to look at her quizzically. "Fix things? ...Is he dead now?" Quick as he could, he tried to pull what he knew about necromancy into the forefront of his fuzzy mind, but even as his fingers wrote runes into the air between him, he just as quickly forgot what he had intended to do. "Is he dead?"

Andrea laughed dryly, watching him attempt something and quickly forget with a smile on her face. “No, he’s not dead. That probably would have been easier. I didn’t make it worse like that, I just got angry at him. More angry than I’ve ever gotten at someone in like, person. I wanted to talk, but he still thinks I’m a demon. And then I kind of acted like one.” She shook her head and downed another drink. “But fuck it.”

"Well... you are a demon, I think, so the behavior is expected." He frowned down at an empty glass on the counter, then licked a finger, rimmed the lip of the glass with it and willed another drink into it. After taking a sip, he lifted his gaze back to Andy and said, solemnly, "So what shall we do about this, my Raggedy One? It sounds as if your father doesn't understand what kind of town Sangren really is."

She set her glass down and folded her arms, scoffing a bit until it turned into a full blown laugh. “You know, I guess I am a demon. I wish that felt cool instead of just me feeling like my lame self, but meaner and more okay with murder,” she replied, shaking her head. Meeting his gaze, she shrugged. “I guess there’s nothing to do about it. I don’t wanna see him again. You know, he actually mentioned he had an idea of this town and just hoped we dodged it or something. Like he couldn’t save me from the town in the end.” She growled a little, rolling her eyes and sliding her glass toward him to ask for another. “Like he’s fuckin Super Frank and movie nights and Hungry Man dinners would shield his poor daughter from the hellmouth. Incredible.”

Johnny took the time to contemplate what a hungry-person meal could possibly entail by taking another long sip. By now, the fuzz was starting to warm him from the inside out and the need to reach out with his powers to support Andy's growing agitation was growing ever more tempting. "These are survival instincts - the need to shield a child from exposure to evils for your father and that feeling 'okay' with murder for you... all survival."

Andrea was quiet for a moment, sipping her newly filled glass. “Survival. Maybe that explains the why of it, but that didn’t really work out for him did it? The pretending. His wife walked right into it all and it claimed his daughter. His daughter, who is now a demon,” she said gesturing towards herself. “I guess it’s a form of survival but it didn’t do a lot of good for him did it? He still lost everything. Staying blind on purpose and turning me away....I guess I see how it’s a survival tactic but it also feels like it was easy for him to love me and that changed in an instant. He just seems like a coward to me.” She set her glass down after downing it and slid down against the cabinets to the floor. “I...also think it’s more than being okay with murder. Saying it like that just feels better.”

He waved his hand dismissively. "'Murder' is such an inconsequential term to creatures who are no longer mortal, my Raggedy One. It's a wonder you have any appetite at all - Magic requires sacrifice, no matter what form it comes in. You see it when I bleed myself. You see how strangely it burns through Gunnar. You see it in death here, especially. It calls for this death, these sacrifices - what are people placed in your path for if not to be sacrifices?" He finished his drink, then suddenly slouched against the counter. "I'm drunk."

She let his words sink in, staring down at the ground for a moment with her eyebrows furrowed. “Sacrifices,” she repeated. Something did burn through her, and surprisingly his drunken advice had given her a bit of clarity. Just a bit. When she thought about death and sacrifice and magic in the way he described it, it made a little more sense. “Guess I’m just getting used to the order of such things,” she said, reaching up to grip the side of the counter and stand. “You are. I am a little too. How about I walk you to your room? That seems like the best course of action now.” She laughed a little and moved towards him, gently slapping a hand on his back.

He had straightened, but found himself buckling a bit at her slap. "You forget yourself," he chided lightly, even as he recovered and stood ramrod straight to allow her to lead him to the staircase that led to his bedroom. "I wonder, how long it will take for you to realize that you are now an apex predator, my Andy?"

She ran a hand through her hair and winced. “Sorry, I actually swore I was being gentle,” she replied, rubbing the spot and taking him up to his room. Being ahead of him, she walked in and pulled his sheets and comforter back so he could just fall in. She hadn’t responded right away to what he said but once they were inside his bedroom, she responded. “Yeah. Me too.”

"Come sleep," he sighed, already burying his face into his pillow. "I could have sworn I was better at drinking. I haven't done it in so long."

Laughing a little, she nodded and kicked off her jeans before jumping into the soft bed opposite of where he laid. Andrea relaxed against the pillow, smiling and turning her head to face him. “Personally I thought you were great at it.” She snuggled in, sighing and continuing to think about their earlier conversation until his words “sleep,” echoed in her head and she closed her eyes to let herself.

#ja #ch: johnny arcos #p #para: bar and murder tips

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avengerscompound · 5 years

Text

The Grind House - Chapter 1

The Grind House: A Bucky Barnes Fanfic

Series Masterlist

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x�� F!Reader

Word Count: 2201

Rating: E

Square filled: @buckybarnesbingo - B1, AU- Coffee Shop, @star-spangled-bingo - coffee shop au

Warnings: None for this chapter, future smut most likely

Synopsis: When Bucky Barnes stops to get coffee and warm up at your coffee shop, he had just expected that caffeine might lift his mood a little. He didn’t expect to fall head-over-heels for you over a game of chess.

Chapter 1

Bucky wasn’t exactly in what he’d call a good mood. Even for him. Which was saying something really. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was that had put him in that mood either. He just sort of woke up surly and everything was just annoying him. He had been tempted to throw Clint out the window when he’d started up on a website he found that rated the Avengers on fuckability.

It had been snowing. That might have had something to do with it. He hated the cold and as the flakes landed on the ground he pulled his coat tighter around himself. He had to get inside. Maybe coffee would help? Caffeine might make the word a little more tolerable. At the very least coffee was hot.

He spotted a place up ahead and beelined right for it. It wasn’t a chain. Or at least if it was one he didn’t recognize it. The walls on the outside were dark wood with gold inlay acting as both decoration and spelling out the words ‘The Grind House’.

The large windows of the store were all darkened so you could barely even see inside. There was a fireplace though. He could see the light it was giving off even from down the street. Everything about the place appealed to him.

A bell over the door tinkled as he pushed it open and stepped inside. It was warm and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee hung in the air. Around the store were shelves. Some contained the usual coffee shop merchandise - bags of coffee beans, decorative mugs, boxes of chocolates and French presses - while others just contained decorative knick-knacks like model ships and well-loved teddy bears, board games that had been clearly used over and over, and books. Around the shop were tables and chairs of various sizes. Small coffee tables surrounded by large wing back chairs. Large round dining tables with hardwood dining chairs and a hardwood bench with barstools along it. Each place had at least one outlet.

Bucky shrugged off his coat and hung it on the coat rack by the door. This was somehow both warm and cozy and incredibly cool and yet was remarkably empty. There was a couple sitting at a coffee table playing a game of cards and gazing at each other lovingly over their decks as they sipped on large mugs of coffee. And one of the tables had five elderly women playing Clue. Delicate teacups sitting beside them cooling.

For a moment he wondered if he might have just found his new favorite place and then you walked out from out the back.

Bucky was a practical man. He had lived a long time. Too fucking long if you asked him. He’d seen a lot. He didn’t believe in things like soulmates or love at first sight. So he had no idea what he was feeling as he locked eyes with you. It wasn’t lust. Or at least, not all of it was. That was there, under the surface. Lust always was when there was attraction after all. He just knew as the two of you looked at each other, that whoever you were, he wanted to get to know you more.

It was a thought that startled him. He hadn’t felt that for anyone. Not since… well not since he’d been taken by HYDRA that first time. Even as he’d followed Steve around fighting NAZI’s obliviously to the fact that yes, he could, in fact, go through something worse than his first experience as a human guinea pig and German POW, women just seemed abstractly attractive. Like a painting. You might admire it, but that didn’t mean you wanted to date it.

“Hi, there. What can I get you?” You asked coming over to the counter.

Bucky looked up at the menu. “Large Americano I guess.” He said.

“You started typing in the order. Like it black, huh?” You asked.

“Like my soul.” He said.

You laughed. It was warm and somehow completely genuine considering you had had to have heard that before. “With those blue eyes? That can’t be true.” You said.

“Truth is, it’s the only way I’ve ever had it.” He said. His face felt warm and for a moment he wondered if he was blushing. That couldn’t be right though. The Winter Soldier didn’t blush. He couldn’t remember ever blushing.

“Really? Do you have a lactose intolerance? We have other kinds of milk.”

“What?” He asked suppressing the urge to laugh. “No. No… I just… Haven’t I guess. Just used to drinking black coffee from a pot. And my friend said Americano was the closest to that in a place like this.”

“Well, they’re right. If you ever want to try something new let me know.” You said. “Did you want anything else?”

Bucky had a quick glance at the pastry cabinet. He was a sucker for sweets and it was rare he could resist one if there was something on offer. He selected one of the chocolate mousse cakes and paid.

“Is that to go?” You asked moving to the espresso machine.

“No, I'll have it here.” He said.

“Take a seat, I’ll bring it over. And grab a book or a game if you like. It’s kind of what we’re known for besides the coffee.” You said as you started up the machine.

“A game? But I don’t have anyone to play with.” He said.

You shrugged. “It’s pretty quiet if you don’t mind getting interrupted, I can play with you.”

Bucky went over to the wall and looked over the games. He thought it would just be a cursory glance. A lot of these games he didn’t recognize. Scythe looked complicated. Sushi Go looked silly. And what the hell was Cards Against Humanity? Not that it mattered, that game had a three played minimum. He had thought he’d just look to be nice, and then wave you off saying it was okay, he could just enjoy his coffee alone. That is what he intended to do, but as he browsed over the games, most of which he either didn’t recognize or were too complicated for one sitting, he started thinking this would be a good way to get to know you. A really good way. So he slid a chess board off the shelf and took it to a small table with leather wingback chairs on either side.

He set it up. It was nothing special. Just a cardboard board with a red and black grid and very basic standard plastic pieces. He set it up and decided to save time he’d choose white and make his first move. He pushed a pawn forward two spaces.

You came over with the coffee and small chocolate cake and put them on the table beside him. “Chess, huh? Well, I’m a little bit rusty, but I’m game.” You moved the pawn opposite his up so they were directly next to each other. “I keep thinking you seem familiar. Have you come in before?”

Bucky tensed a little. Was this why you were being nice? That little gleam of recognition from seeing him on the news or on television? Would the realization that he was an ex HYDRA assassin make you pull away immediately? Or worse kick him out of the store altogether?

He huffed and moved his knight forward so it sat just behind and to the side of his pawn. He might as well do this now though. Off like a bandaid. It wasn’t fair to you to force an interaction based on missing information. “No. You might have seen me in the news.” He took off the leather glove he kept covering his metal hand and flexed his fingers.

Your eyes went wide and you pointed at him. “Oh right, right. You’re an Avengers. You're - you're - Captain America’s friend. Umm… Oh… James Barnes. Sergeant James Barnes.”

Bucky smothered a laugh and shook his head. “Yeah, that’s me. I prefer Bucky though.”

“Oh god, I’m sorry. That was overboard wasn’t it?” You said as you moved another pawn forward.

“Maybe a little.” He teased. “It’s okay, that’s not normally the reaction I get.”

“No? But… you’re an Avenger.”

He assessed the board for a moment and brought the opposite pawn forward two spaces. “Yeah, but I haven’t always been. People don’t forget easily.”

You tapped your fingers on the table as you thought about your next move. “That’s not fair though. You save people.”

“I don’t blame them. I mean… what I did was public knowledge. It’s not… good…” He took a sip of the coffee. It was rich and full bodied. Bitter but not overly so. He hadn’t had a coffee this good in a long time.

“I see. Still, blame yourself huh?” You said. “Oh shit, sorry. I’m a busy body. You can ignore me if you like.”

He flexed his fingers and didn't say anything for a moment. “You probably aren't wrong though.”

“Maybe but I'm not your therapist. You don't need analyzing by some stranger.”

There was a tinkling as the door opened and a small group of people came in. You moved your bishop out so it sat diagonally next to his Knight and got up and returned to the counter to serve them.

As you took their orders and started to make them Bucky sat assessing the board. His fingers drummed on the table as he thought both about your words and his next move. He took a bite of the mousse cake and had a real urge to moan with how good it was. Creamy and sweet and a little tart. He suppressed it though and just started down trying not to watch you as you laughed and chatted with the new customers.

You hadn’t been wrong. He didn’t forgive himself. He wasn’t sure he ever could forgive himself. His hands were stained in blood and he thought maybe that was permanent.

He took your pawn with his and sat back drinking his coffee and eating his cake. When you had finished with the other customers you came back over. “Oh taking a piece while I’m not looking. Harsh.” You teased.

“Sorry. It was just the best move.” He said.

“That’s okay.” You said moving your bishop to take his knight.

“Oh, rough. My poor knight.” Bucky said and you laughed.

“Maybe that will teach you.” You said.

“So is this place yours?” He asked.

“Well, I’m a co-owner. Me and a couple of friends. I’m the coffee person, and there’s a cake person and a money person.” You explained.

“Who’s the game person?” He asked.

“Oh, we all are. That was one of the things that sparked the idea. We used to have game nights on Fridays and we’d drink so much coffee. We decided to see if we can make money doing that.” You said.

“You still do that?” He asked, taking your bishop with his queen.

“Dude!” You yelped. “Yeah, we do. Here. And it’s a big thing. It’s our busiest time. There’s a lot of finger foods and competitions going on. You should come sometime.”

Bucky wondered if that was a serious invitation or just one of those things people say. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Guy can’t be an Avenger all the time.” You said and took one of his pawns with yours. “It would be cool to have you. You can play with me and my friends if you like. Or if you wanted to bring people we can set you up with something.”

“I guess you can’t.” He agreed. “I might see what I can do. You know… missions and stuff.”

“Yeah, of course.” You said. He thought that was a look of disappointment on your face. He was pretty good at reading people. That was something that had been literally beaten into him. But what could you be disappointed about?

“I’ll try and make one.” He said moving his other bishop out.

His phone chimed and he picked it up. There was a message from Steve telling him he was needed back a the tower. He groaned and drained his coffee. “Shit, sorry. I gotta go.”

“Was that them? You got Avengers stuff?” You asked.

He risked a smile and nodded. “Yeah, something like that. Sorry about the game. I wanted to finish it.”

“Take a photo and the next time you’re here we can start up again.” You said, moving your knight out.

“Really? Yeah. Okay.” He said and took out his phone, snapping a picture of the board. “I’d like that.”

“So would I.” You said with a smile. “It was nice meeting you, Bucky. Just leave the board and I’ll pack it up for you.”

“Thanks,” He said getting up. “I guess I’ll see you again.”

“Soon, I hope.” You said with a smile.

He grabbed his coat and shrugged it back on, watching as you started clearing off his table. Whatever had put him in such a bad mood was well and truly gone. Now he just had to figure out whether he was ready to ask someone out on a date.

// NEXT

#buckybarnesbingo2019 #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier #the winter soldier fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #coffee shop au #the grind house

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raccoonwritings · 5 years

Text

A Drink Away from Honesty (Ch. 6)

Childhood Friends AU (angst with a happy ending, be warned)

Lucas is an oversharing drunk, Eliott is both desperate and dramatic, and everyone is trying to just keep everything straight.

Or alternatively, Lucas and Eliott were childhood best friends until a storm tears them apart and brings them back together.

(Title from “Don’t Miss Me?” by Marianas Trench)

Chapter 6: The Second One

Lucas (16) and Eliott (18)

Jeudi 17:09

Lucas’ plans with the boys are abruptly canceled when he gets called back home for an apartment meeting. He knows they have to talk about Manon and where’s she’s going to be living, considering she moved out a little while ago to travel to London with Charles. He doesn’t know how this is going to go and he’s already dreading it. He likes Manon, but it isn’t obvious to see that Mika and Lisa prefer having her around more than him.

He sinks into the couch and waits for the others to arrive, which they do moments later. Manon sits on the arm of the couch to Lucas’ left and he has to admit he’s missed her. She hasn’t even said anything, but the presence she gives off is a comforting. Without her, he’d probably be sleeping in the park or hopping couches. He owes her a lot, he knows, and he really would give her as much as he can, except he really needs his own mental space right now.

From: Chloe

Hi Lucas! Would you want to go out on a date, like a proper one? Maybe tomorrow?

Lucas groans and he tries to ignore it and actually follow the conversation going on between his roommates, which he immediately checks out of once he realizes they are talking about Manon’s trip and he just really wants to be playing video games and ordering junk food with the boys.

“So, you expect us to just let you live here again? Just like that?” Mika says, dramatically staring out the window of the living room. Manon looks at him and looks at Lucas, who returns a ‘you know he’s kidding look’. He’s proven right just a few seconds later when Mika runs over to the couch, wrapping his arms around her and screeching that of course, she’s always welcome there, but that she just has to take Lucas’ room.

“Excuse me?” Lucas exclaims.

“Are you kidding, Lucas? You’re going to let this poor sweet soul sleep on the couch? She deserves to have her room back. She did live here before you did, no?”

“Yeah, she did, but she left the room to me when she left!” Lucas knows he isn’t going to win this argument and Manon looks absolutely petrified to be the cause of it.

“It’s really okay, Mika, I can sleep on the couch. I slept well, anyways,” Manon insists, trying to deescalate the situation.

“No, no, no. You deserve your room back. You’re like family to us, and Lucas is more like a cousin.”

“More like a second cousin,” Lisa adds.

“Guys!” Manon looks incredulous and upset.

“Whatever, I’ll clean my stuff out and you can have the room back in the morning.” Lucas pulls himself out of the couch and heads towards his room.

“No, Lucas, she’ll have the room back tonight,” Mika demands.

“Mika!” Lucas can hear Manon as he enters his bedroom and he just really needs to be alone right now. He knows he’s not that close to them, Lisa and Mika specifically, but he didn’t expect to have it thrown in his face so flatly. The apartment felt so much better before Manon left.

Time passes slowly while he packs up his measly belongings, throwing them begrudgingly and haphazardly into his moving boxes. He’s only gotten two small boxes stuffed before there’s a knock on the door.

“Salut, Lucas,” Manon enters, looking a bit shyer than she was before. He can tell she feels bad about the situation.

“Hi Manon, what’s up?” He says, not bothering to look at her. He knows he shouldn’t be directing the anger towards her, but he’s upset and he isn’t going to hide it.

“I’m really sorry about before. I didn’t think that they would do that.” She offers, awkwardly standing in the entrance to her old room. Lucas takes the initiative to clean off enough of the bed so they can both sit.

“Come here,” he tells her, patting the space on the bed next to him. She takes the offer graciously, walking to join him and sitting cross legged.

“I really am sorry, Lucas. I really don’t mind taking the couch.” She smiles at him sadly, but Lucas can’t distinguish whether or not she’s actually thinking about the roommate situation.

“It’s alright, Manon. The couch is fine, just as long as I have a place to sleep.”

“How are you doing? Have things gotten any easier?” Her tone suddenly shifts to concern.

“Things are okay. They’re fine,” he dismisses. He doesn’t really want to talk about anything, especially after what just happened, but he feels a small hand on his shoulder and looks to find Manon’s eyes boring into him.

“Lucas. I’m here to talk, please tell me you still know that.” He knows, he’s just afraid.

“I know, Manon. There’s just nothing to talk about,” he shrugs. He doesn’t even have to look at Manon to know she doesn’t believe him. “I just want to finish packing up.”

Manon remains silent for a second, clearly thinking about something. “You know Lucas, we could share the room and the bed. If you want too. I’m probably going to spend more time at Emma’s house than here, and when Charles comes back, I can just grab my suitcase and that way you don’t have to pack and repack. I mean, it’s not like we haven’t shared the room before,” she smiles down at the floor, appearing to be reminiscing about when they first shared the room for an extended period of time. Lucas tries to ignore the thought of back then, not because he doesn’t appreciate what she’s done for him and the support she’s provided, but because he doesn’t have the emotional stability to do that right now.

He takes a few moments to think about the possible resolution. “Wouldn’t Charles be upset about you sleeping in a bed with another guy?” He has to question that, at least.

“Lucas, we both now he would find you as a threat.” His insides shift at her statement, not because it’s intended to be hurtful, but because he remembers the state she found him in and the cause of said state.

“Okay,” he says, because it’s really the only thing that his brain can formulate. “We’ll share. Only if it’s okay with you.”

“Of course, I suggested it.” Her smile really is lovely, and he can feel himself relax a little bit. “Thank you, Lucas.” She hugs him and he holds her there just for a second extra because he’s missed his friend, who he wouldn’t dare call that because it would go straight to her supportive ego.

Vendredi 18:45

The fact that Lucas finds himself waiting in a coffee shop on a Friday afternoon waiting for Chloe instead of with his friends is probably the worst thing that could have happened to him this week. She had kept texting him yesterday, so finally he had agreed, saying that he would meet her for coffee, then they could decide to go somewhere else.

The coffee shop itself though, despite being the backdrop for such an unpleasant meeting, was quite nice. It was small and quaint, and Lucas thinks he’d actually come back in the near future, as long as he doesn’t have to go on an obligated date. He sits at a table in the corner, where he can see the windows and will have time to mentally prepare when he sees her enter.

What he doesn’t expect is for Chloe to enter, followed by Eliott and Lucille. Nothing could’ve prepared him for that sight, the sight of Chloe and Lucille chatting happily, while Eliott’s eyes don’t stop looking at him. Lucas knows this day couldn’t get any worse.

“Salut, Lucas!” Chloe greets, kissing him on the lips softly. She sits in the chair next to him while Eliott and Lucille sit across from them. Lucas is bitter, he knows, so he takes Chloe’s hand and intertwines their fingers. She gives him a big smile and returns to her conversation with Lucille. He can feel Eliott’s gaze on him, but he doesn’t dare look.

“Sorry to interrupt ladies, but I’m going to go get some drinks, would like anything?” He stands, scooting behind Chloe’s chair and around to the front of the table.

“A hot chocolate for me, please.” Lucille answers first, smiling at him genuinely. He hates that she has been so nice for so long.

“A decaf coffee, please.” Chloe offers him a smile, and just for an added bonus of spite, he kisses her on the cheek. When he looks at Eliott, he can see the jealousy smeared everywhere. Lucas is enjoying making him like this, he’s not going to lie. Eliott was the one who gave him up anyway, and honestly, he has no right to be jealous.

“I’ll help you grab the drinks, Lucas,” Eliott chimes in and suddenly, Lucas is on edge. He doesn’t want to be alone with Eliott, but it seems he doesn’t have a choice. To think he could have gotten a moment by himself, to extract himself from possibly the worst situation ever, was all a pipe dream.

“Okay,” Lucas says through gritted teeth and doesn’t bother to wait for Eliott to meet him at the front of the table before walking across the store and getting on the long line for drinks.

“Hi,” Eliott joins him, standing to his left and looking down, trying to catch Lucas’ eyes.

“Hi.”

“How are you?”

“Fine.”

“Well, I’m great, thanks for asking.” Lucas looks up at him, angry that he could be so casual, when he sees Eliott staring up at the board, seemingly trying to decide what he wants.

“Are you stalking me? How did you even know I was going to be here?” Lucas needs the answer to this question, because all Eliott’s presence is doing is making a bad situation even worse.

“No, Lucas, I’m not stalking you. Lucille and I ran into Chloe on the bus and she mentioned she was meeting you here and offered us to join. She and Lucille seem to have hit it off quite well,” Eliott explains, glancing over to the girls who are heavily involved in some topic of conversation.

“Ah okay. Nice to see you and Lucille are back together.” Lucas looks away, but can see Eliott turn his entire body towards him.

“Why would you say that? We haven’t been together for years.”

“Then why were you on the bus together?” Lucas asks, before he gets to the front of the line, happy that this conversation will stop for a second. He orders all of the drinks, including one for Eliott (not that he wanted to, the cashier asked Eliott if he wanted anything and of course he wanted something). He moves down to end to wait for the drinks.

“Just so you know, we aren’t together, but we still talk when she comes home for break. I’m single, and it’s nice to see your jealous.” Excuse him?

“I’m not jealous. What would I be jealous of? I have a lovely girlfriend sitting at the table over there.”

“Don’t bull shit me or yourself, Lucas. You don’t like her, you know what you like, and she isn’t that.” His tone was laced with a bit of venom, but more so at the fact that he knows that Lucas is pretending. He knows what it’s like for Lucas to be real and he seems aggravated that he has become fake again. If Eliott had stayed and not broken his heart, maybe he wouldn’t have to be fake.

“How about you leave me alone and go back to your life without me,” Lucas seethes and goes to grab the drinks, which are now ready, to bring back over Chloe and Lucille.

“Living without you is something I don’t ever want to experience again.”

Lucas’ heart nearly stops. He’s still so angry, but he hears the genuineness in his voice, and fuck, does he want to believe him. He has to stop thinking so he can deliver the drinks without completing spilling them.

“Here you go, love,” he says, superficially sweet, and thanked by Chloe with a kiss, to which he overexaggerates, for the purpose of pissing Eliott off. He can see, by the look in Eliott’s eyes, that he is succeeding.

“Wow, you know Chloe, you seem very mature for your age,” Lucille says, genuinely impressed by something Chloe must have said while Eliott and him were getting drinks.

“It’s because I’m dating an older guy,” she replies, wrapping her arms around Lucas’ shoulders. He smiles at her and looks at Eliott, who is drinking his coffee bitterly. As if Lucas was the one who’s jealous.

Lucille is digging in her bag for her phone, that’s ringing rather obnoxiously. When she fishes out and answers, her facial expressions immediately change to horror as she excuses herself to the restroom. Chloe seems concerned and apologizes, only to excuse herself and follow Lucille. Eliott chugs the rest of his drink and gets up.

“Come on, we’re leaving.” Honestly, that sounds like a great idea, but he doesn’t want to be alone with Eliott, not yet anyways.

“I’m good, thanks.” He sounds cold and he doesn’t care.

“So what, Lucas, you’re going to be fake for the rest of your life? You’re going to sit here and pretend to like a girl you have no interest in?” Eliott stares into his soul and it aggravates the shit out of him. Eliott is getting to him.

“I like her, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he gets up so he can talk to Eliott face to face. “Why don’t you just leave me the hell alone? Why do you care so much about me? I didn’t matter a year ago, so why don’t you stop pretending?” He gets in Eliott’s space and glares up. He’s done taking this shit.

That’s when Eliott pushes him towards the door. “Let’s talk outside.”

They leave the coffee shop and stand just out of view of the windows. “Lucas, I’m not pretending to care, I always have. Every single second I’ve known you, I’ve cared. Please tell me you don’t actually believe that I don’t care about you.” Eliott steps closer and runs a hand through his hair. Lucas wants to cry. His heart is broken, and he wants to heal, but he doesn’t trust the one person who can help.

“You are pretending, Eliott! You dropped me without a second thought. I wasn’t important to you and you’re trying to make yourself feel better!” The tears are starting to come, and the panic is beginning to rise.

“Every word of that is wrong, Lucas. You’re the only thing that has ever mattered to me, don’t you get that?” His tone is soft and lacking accusation. His hands cup Lucas’ face and he wipes the tears off with his thumbs.

“Stop trying to fix this, Eliott. You can’t put this one back together. I want to let you back in, but I don’t trust you anymore and I don’t think I ever can.” He looks up and sees the tears forming in Eliott’s eyes. Maybe he finally got the message.

“Please, please tell me I can do something,” he’s pleading now and Lucas’ heart is breaking.

Lucas shakes his head somberly. Eliott waits a few moments.

“Okay, I’ll leave you alone, but I just need one last thing.” He takes a hand off Lucas’ cheek and runs it through Lucas’ hair, stopping at the hair at the back of his neck. Lucas feels his head being pulled, and suddenly Eliott’s lips are against his and the taste of tears is caught in between. This is the first kiss in years that have felt like something and it’s killing him. His brain snaps out of it when he realizes that it’s raining and they’re outside, in public.

Lucas pulls away so fast he almost falls back. When he steadies himself, he sees Chloe, who seems to have left the coffee shop in search of him and Eliott. She’s looking at him with disdain and confusion.

She saw them.

Lucas (13) and Eliott (15)

Lundi 17:00

To Lucas, everything means something. His friendships with people mean the world to him, his relationship with his parents is everything, and that kiss that he had with Eliott a few weeks back was vital to his being. He truly thought that it meant the same to his best friend as it did to him, but it didn’t, apparently, because a few weeks later, Lucas and Eliott were sitting on the living room floor of Eliott’s apartment when the doorbell rings. In walks a very pretty girl, with short, curly brown hair and eyes like Eliott’s who introduces herself as Lucille, Eliott’s girlfriend. His heart shatters and Lucas doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the sound it makes when it does. It’s loud and disastrous, horrifying and detrimental. He doesn’t quite understand why his heart breaks in the manner that it does, because it’s just his best friend, who looks so incredibly happy with this girl, and he should be supportive and loving and accepting of this girl who seems to have won over Eliott’s heart. He realizes then, that it hurts because he thought he had a chance to win Eliott’s heart and, in reality, he doesn’t. The realization hits him so hard, harder than anything has because he recognizes that he’s attracted to his best friend. Everything makes him feel woozy.

He offers a greeting to Lucille, but excuses himself, saying that he doesn’t feel well and wishes to return home. Eliott looks sad and looks like he knows something is wrong but doesn’t want to get into that conversation while Lucille is there. He’s appreciative of that, at least.

The walk back home is short and he’s glad when he reaches the front door, but he hears his parents fighting as soon as he enters. It’s just an added bonus to his shitty day, and he decides against doing his homework, opting that sleep sounds so much better than anything else.

Lucas (14) and Eliott (16)

Vendredi 22:22

In totality, Eliott and Lucille dated for just over a year. They broke up and got back together many times over the course of that period, but Lucas has added it up and knows that they time they spent together was longer than he cared to think about. Over that time, he had come to the realization that he likes Eliott. Not that he’s gay, but it’s Eliott. His best friend. His other half, practically. He hasn’t been separated from him since they were little, and he didn’t ever want to be apart from him. Unfortunately, his feelings are unrequited, and he has to live with that, but he can as long as Eliott doesn’t date anyone else.

“You know, Lucille and I have been talking, and I think we may get back together,” Eliott brings up casually one Friday, while they’re drinking in Eliott’s bedroom. They had been broken up for a month at this point and Lucas had felt the best he had in a long time. He would give anything for Eliott to remain single.

“I don’t think you should,” he says, swigging down some beer.

“Why not?” Eliott questions.

“I don’t know, you guys have broken up and gotten together so many times, don’t you think it’s better if you guys just ended it?” Lucas ponders, looking to his best friend and hoping they can just switch the topic. He really doesn’t want to talk about Lucille anymore.

“I kind of feel like she’s the only one for me. Who else is going to like this mess?” He gestures to himself. Oh, boy, that is not the question he should be asking Lucas, especially considering he’s had quite the handful of beers.

“So many people! So many people would like you!” Lucas exclaims, not knowing where he got his burst of energy, but just accepting it because what he said is incredibly true.

“Aw, you’re sweet, Lucas. I know you like me, but I need someone who likes me and wants to kiss me,” Eliott admonishes, with his head looking down to the floor. Lucas’ stomach churns, wanting to tell him everything about how he feels, but is scared of the reaction and doesn’t know exactly what to say, so he lets the alcohol speak for him.

“Would it be so bad if I liked you like that too?” He asks softly, and dear god, he has never seen someone’s head snap up that fast.

“Lucas, what did you just say?” He gets up out of his chair and walks to where Lucas is sitting on his bed. Lucas gulps and wishes he hadn’t said anything.

“Nevermind, it’s not important,” he gets up and tries to escape this conversation that he’s not ready to have. He’s not ready to lose his best friend because his dumb brain doesn’t know how to stop liking him. Eliott catches him before he can make it out the bedroom door and holds Lucas against his chest.

“What did you say, Lulu? Tell me, please,” Eliott pleads gently. Lucas shakes his head. “Why not? You just said something and I want to make sure I heard it right. Please, Lulu.” His eyes are kind and warm, despite being a bluish green color, and Lucas loses himself in them.

Lucas determines that if he’s going to lose his best friend over this, then he may as well get it over with. He’ll deal with the pain and go back to liking girls, to being normal.

“Would it be so bad if I liked you the way you wanted too?” It’s softer than it was last time and Eliott just looks at him in awe. There’s so much fondness and love in his expression that Lucas dreams of staying there just like that forever.

“Are you just saying this because you don’t want me to feel bad or because you actually like me?”

Lucas buries his head in Eliott’s shoulder. “The second one.”

“Lulu, look at me.” With a shaky breath and butterflies in his stomach, Lucas pulls his head from the place where it was hiding to give Eliott what he wanted. A hand slips into the hair at the nape of his neck and Lucas loves it when his friend plays with his long locks. Eliott’s lips crash into his and he gasps and moans at the same time, making Eliott chuckle against his mouth. Lucas clutches at sweatshirt Eliott is wearing and tugs him closer, because fuck, this is great and good and wonderful and everything he has wanted since that game of truth or date over a year ago and he doesn’t want it to end.

Eliott pulls away after a minute, with red cheeks and puffy lips and Lucas chases his mouth like it’s the air he needs to breath. He has no shame, not anymore. Soon there’s tongues on tongues and it’s the hottest thing Lucas has probably ever experienced, and he can’t help but moan. The hand in his hair is gripping tighter, not letting Lucas go, and fuck, like he would want to be anywhere else.

When they finally do pull away mutually, Eliott rests his forehead against Lucas’ and smiles so wide it hurts Lucas’ face. “If you couldn’t tell, I like you like that too.”

#elu #elu fic #lucas x eliott #eliott demaury #lucas lallemant #skamfr #skam france #skam fr

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cchellacat · 5 years

Text

Dinner and A Movie

Love All The Marvel Ships Challenge

Day Three ~ Watching A Movie

Darcy Lewis had a secret. An embarrassing, mortifying secret that she would admit to no one, ever. Ever since the eighth grade she had had the hugest, most ridiculous crush on James Buchanan Barnes.

There had been love hearts and flowers doodled in her text books next to his picture and she had even managed to get her hands on an original Bucky Bear, which, to this day, still slept in her bed with her.

When the news had broken that her girlhood crush, was in fact, still alive and well and looking just as fine as he did in 1945, it was like dream come true. She had followed every news article avidly as the whole story unfolded and her heart broke for him.

The whole thing brought back her crush in full force. Then, barley a year after she and Jane had moved into the Tower to work for Stark, James Barnes, Bucky, had come back to the USA. All the legal troubles had been cleared up, he’d been exonerated for his action while in Hydra’s control and Tony Stark, even if still a little bitter about the whole Steve lied to him thing, had given them a floor in the Tower while the Avengers got their shit back together.

The last eighteen months had been torture. She couldn’t ignore the guy after all, but it was increasingly difficult to be around him. Her crush just got bigger and bigger. Like Steve, he was always unfailingly polite, but he was also a smooth son of bitch that flirted like other people breathed. Not for a second did she ever take him seriously when he flirted with her, that way lay madness. So, she endured and tried not to look like she was avoiding him, while she avoided him.

The down side was, that with him constantly in her head, the thought of dating anyone was pointless, so she’s had a pretty long dry spell. All she’s done for months is work. She’d not stepped outside the Tower for anything other than grocery shopping or science conventions in over a year and she was bored and dying from the isolation. She had to start getting herself out there again. She couldn’t wait around to get over this silly crush, she had to go out and meet people. Preferably no one that worked for Stark, because that would be all kinds of terrible when it didn’t work out. She needed a wing woman and a night out dancing.

It had taken a week to convince Jane to take a night off from work and just relax and Darcy had been adamant that they needed to get outside for bit. Darcy should have known that nothing could possible be so straight forward.

First there had been a Tower wide lock-down which meant all residents had to have their bio-metrics re processed. Then one of the interns had broken one of Jane’s deep space telescopes, and then, when Jane had finally finished re-calibrating it, once the new pieces had been installed, the data it had started running off sent her into science spree.

“I’m sorry, Darcy, really, but I just can’t wait, I have to start working through this right now, there are numbers here that just don’t make sense, we could be on the verge of a huge discovery.”

So here she was, all dressed up and no where to go. But fuck that, if Jane wouldn’t go out with her, well, there was no reason she couldn’t go by herself.

Except… except. She really didn’t want to go sit in a bar on her own… ugh. Why couldn’t she just catch a break?

“Hey Doll, why so glum?”

Darcy looked up to find Bucky Barnes, aka, The Winter Hottie, frowning down at her, from where she was slumped on the couch.

Just what she needed, the guy she crushed on looking at her with pity when she explained how pathetic her life was. Would there be no end to this torture?

“I’m fine.” She muttered grabbing her bag and standing. There was no point being here when she could be curled up on the couch in her own apartment with a tub of Ben and Jerry’s and a bottle of wine.

“Hey, don’t be like that, come on, tell me what’s going on.”

The worst part is he really sounds like he cares, and she knows it’s unfair, but it just makes her feel worse. There’s no way a guy like him would ever be interested in her. She wasn’t a super cool ninja assassin like Natasha or smart like Jane or a CEO power goddess like Pepper Potts, she was just Darcy. Short and what could generously be called curvy, with a gap in her teeth and frizzy hair that never stayed where she put it no matter how much time she spent with product and a straightener. The truth was, spending time around him was almost painful, she wanted to hug him and run her fingers through his hair and….. yeah, she was getting away from herself again. She sighed, there was no point being rude, she’d tell him the truth and accept the pity and obligatory pep talk and be on her way.

“Jane stood me up, we were meant to get dinner and maybe go clubbing for a bit, but she went all science on me and now I’m a lame single on date night with out even my platonic go-to girl.”

“I’m real sorry to hear that, Doll. Pretty girl like you shouldn’t ever be stood up.”

His eyes crinkle when he smiles at her and her thighs clench, she’s pretty sure every panty in a ten-mile radius just dropped.

“Thanks, Barnes, be sure to tell Jane that if you see her before I do. I’m just gonna go home and wallow in my misery.”

She gave him a crooked smile and made her way out of the room, aware of his eyes following her till she stepped into the lift.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bucky watched her go, shoulders slumped and defeated. A pretty dame like Darcy shouldn’t be alone on a Saturday night, she outta be out having fun and kicking her heels up. Hell, if he thought she was interested he would have asked her out months ago, but she never responded when he flirted with her. Didn’t eye him up the way the other women in the Tower did, didn’t bat her eyes or smile coyly. She was always sweet and kind and would go outta her way to help if she could, but she was just being nice. He sighed in frustration.

Being free to get back to some semblance of life had been a relief but actually settling into the fast-paced modern world was a little more complicated than it looked. Things were different. People were different. Sometimes it seemed like he’d landed on some alien planet.

Truth was, the only person other than Steve that made sense to him was her. She was exactly his type of girl, with her soft curves and pouty lips and the dark chocolate curls that seemed to have a mind of their own, just like she did, she was everything he dreamed about. She had a mouth on her when she was in temper, stood up for herself and didn’t take shit form no one. But he had no idea how to approach her when she never seemed to let her guard down around him. He figured she was nervous around him at first because of his part, then over time when she still didn’t relax completely and still didn’t respond to any of his pick up lines he’d come to the conclusion that he just wasn’t her type. But that didn’t mean he had to let her be miserable on a Saturday night. He could still be a friend. He wasn’t exactly comfortable in large crowds these days, but maybe she’d still like to get dinner, maybe see a movie after.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Darcy had barley got through her front door when there was a knock on it. Who the hell could it be? Opening the door to find Barnes on the other side was the last thing she was expecting.

“Hey…. Ummm… did you need something?” she asked feeling confused, her head tipping to one side as she looked up at him.

“Yeah… uhh. Look, I know you’re not interested in me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be your friend Doll. The reservations for your dinner still good? Figured if you want some company, I’d be happy to go with you. Can’t really go clubbing, but we could catch a movie maybe?”

Darcy blinked…. She knew her jaw was on the floor and snapped her mouth shut with a click of her teeth, but the apparition in front of her was still there. Had she fallen asleep somewhere and was dreaming this? Had Jane made the lab explode and she was now in a coma, a very nice coma, where handsome super soldiers asked her out on not dates because she wasn’t interested? What planet was he living on? Not interested? Wait a minute…

“You like me?”

Bucky frowned at the disbelief in her voice.

“Well I wasn’t exactly subtle about Doll, I’ve been flirting with you for months.”

“You flirt with everyone….”

“No I don’t…”

“Yes, you do, Jessica in accounting was practically in your lap in the cafeteria last week.”

“I wasn’t flirting with her, she stopped to ask me the time.”

“Well, Tracy from acquisitions was feeling up your arm last month in the stairwell and you had your arms around her.”

“She nearly fell down the damn stairs in those stupid heels she wears, I caught her before she broke her neck.”

“But….. you like me?” she asked, quieter now, trying to work out if he meant it.

“Doll, you drive me outta my damn mind. You have to know you’re the prettiest dame in the state of New York. But you’re kind too, and funny and the way you smile makes me crazy.”

Darcy bit her lip hard to keep from grinning as her cheeks flushed red.

“So…. If I was interested… would this be a date?”

The smile he gave her was blinding and she couldn’t help but return it.

“Dinner and movie sure does sound like a date sweetheart.”

“I’ll get my coat.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Then what happened?” Jane asks her demandingly.

“We went to dinner, had a blast and then we watched a movie together.”

“What movie?”

Darcy shrugs a little helplessly.

“I can’t remember.” She hisses.

Jane gives her a knowing look.

“Was the movie any good?” Jane tries again as Darcy feels her cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“It was great.” Darcy crosses her arms defensively, then relents. “We had a great time not watching it together.” Jane squeals in glee and giggles.

“Did he do the thing?”

“What thi…. Oh, the thing!” Darcy smiles wildly and sighs with a mock swoon. “He was so smooth, full ten points for style and execution. The yawn and stretch in all it’s traditional perfection. But then I’m pretty sure he probably invented the move in the first place. He did it so well it wasn’t even cheesy.” In Darcy’s defence she had tried to roll her eyes when he’d pulled it off, but the wink and grin he gave her was so hot she had just went with it and snuggled in.

“So, are you seeing him again?”

“Yup, we’re going to have dinner tonight in my apartment and watch some Netflix.”

“Watch?”

“Shut up.”

Jane shakes her head in amusement, her eyes bright as Darcy potters off to her office.

When Steve had cornered her last week and told him about Bucky and his unrequited crush on Darcy she had been lost for words. Between the two of them they had plotted out the whole thing. Steve got the tower into lock-down so Bucky couldn’t go for his usual walk about. They had had movie posters in every advertising space in the building and she had paid Leona to break the telescope just in time to pull off her rather complicated science emergency. Getting Darcy to meet her in the common room before breaking the news to her had been timed down to the second so that Steve could make sure Barnes walked in at just the right moment. Neither of them would have appreciated her or Steve meddling so it had been more complicated than it had to be.

“Not bad Foster.” Jane nearly jumps out of her skin as Natasha appears beside her.

“I liked the touch with the dinner reservations, the table was in the best position to offer Barnes a comfortable line of sight.”

“They can never know.” Jane says seriously.

“Know what?” Natasha shrugs as she leaves, a tiny smirk at the corner of her mouth. It was good when a plan came together.

@captain-rogers-beard

#Watching a Movie #wintershock #Darcy/Bucky #Love All The Marvel Ships Challenge

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vidalinav · 5 years

Text

FluffMaas Day 1: Like Falling Snow

Summary: Cassian can’t stand to leave Nesta on Solstice, and is determined to make it a holiday they’ll both remember.

Read on AO3, FluffMaas Masterlist

Song Rec: Come out and play by Billie Eilish

*It’s close enough to December (shrugs)

The snow fell in heaps across the icy landscapes, dipping each tree in frothy white. Cassian stared out the window and wondered if someone could be buried under it. Alive, but barely. Breathing steadily under the brush of winter.

When he was little, the thought of snow would leave him shivering. To a boy with no home and few clothes, winter was a promise of death. If the snow could bury him, erasing all evidence that he had ever existed, the memories could make sure Cassian never resurfaced.

He grasped his throat, feeling the suffocating cold years behind him. In an hour, this cabin would be nothing but a memory, gone with the bitter frost.

There was nothing left of that little boy; he had disappeared on winter wind along with Cassian’s childhood. He could no longer call winter a punishment, either—not when he learned that family was a type of warmth. The pain of winter ebbing until only love was left behind.

They were waiting for him, no doubt. For him and the others, wherever in Velaris they were. Traditions were more important now. Differentiated only by the time and people they could never get back.

Cassian wished he could say he was excited, but the imminent dread followed him even after the snow had melted off his coat.

In the cabin, the fire roared. Sweet crackling that made him think of warm hot chocolate, spiced with chili peppers and dolloped with whipped cream. He imagined the townhouse in all its splendor, the fireplace they’d wait for him to decorate with garland and poinsettias.

The image warmed his heart, made his wings itch with need. He’d be surrounded by family and warmth and love. Not this house, encased in only snow and emptiness. With its barren walls and furniture that no more seemed welcoming than the doormat still wet from his boots.

But… she’d be here.

Waiting, maybe. Wondering where it all went—where even he had gone. If Cassian had even been there to begin with.

He sometimes wondered that, too. If he was there or if he was like the winter, himself, a silent passerby that brought nothing with him, but left a thousand different worries behind.

If Nesta was anything like him, she’d sit on the window’s ledge, curl her knees to her chest, and look outside. He could almost imagine her fingers trailing along the glass, pretending the snowflakes she drew in the crystal would answer all the questions she didn’t dare ask.

Cassian looked towards Nesta’s door, hiding her behind the redwood.

Sometimes he’d hold himself back from knocking, as if the door would somehow open for him, suddenly. She’d be there—expecting him. She’d smile, he’d laugh, and everything would be different. So different that he could see it, like catching snowflakes in his hands.

Cassian never did let himself knock, his fading footsteps the only evidence he had been there at all.

Nesta rarely came out of that room and they’d been here for months now. Something about her enraged him enough not to care, simply because of the that gut-wrenching ache in his belly that only grew at the sight of her and festered when she refused to look at him.

If she was content to hide away, then he was content to leave her there, trapped in a world he’d long ago decided was trying to bury him alive.

Cassian had almost started to miss the way she clenched her fists in agony, any moment ready to hit or maim him. Her fiery temper rivaled only his own, and though she infuriated him to no end—even infuriated him now—he enjoyed their spats. Even looked forward to them on occasion.

Now, they barely spoke to each other.

It was the greatest form of dismissal that Nesta preferred the company of silence over him.

Really, It was probably what she wanted him to feel: worthless and aggravated.

He’d be loved in Velaris, and Nesta would be here, entertaining the dust and snow. It was the first thing she did once the winter came, writing Feyre that she would not and would never again go to one of their “exclusive inner circle functions.”

If Cassian was being honest, he wasn’t sure they wanted her to attend. Feyre and Elain, of course, but the rest of them…

She probably preferred it that way. Nesta wanted to be alone, preferred the silence, the books, the cold. Not the familial warmth that reminded him he was alive, but only seemed to burn her.

Her blatant exile would last far past Solstice, anyway. A fact both itched at his chest and liberated him from guilt. Nothing much would change past these three days. Nesta would still be the same person when he came back, with her anger so cold it itched like frostbite.

He felt bad for even thinking it, though. Nesta was just… easier to deal with when she wasn’t there.

The trek back to Velaris would take him half of the day. He stretched his wings in preparation. Covering himself in his leathers and coat. He checked the firewood—made sure there was enough to last her. He checked the pantry, the locks, the roof, everything that could go wrong in the span of three days.

There was no chance of a storm, though a large snowfall was expected.

Everything Nesta needed was right here in this cabin, stocked, ready, and capable. She’d be okay, he promised. This is what she wants.

Stepping outside the cabin was harder than he’d expected, every step through snow grabbing at his legs. Cassian merely kicked it away and walked on. If he held his head in indignation or primped his wings stubbornly, he didn’t acknowledge it—Ignored the part of his conscience that was wound around that redwood door, like it had tied a string around his heart.

Cassian was all too ready to dismiss her from his life, and from this Solstice, all together. To get the holiday over with and back to normal, back to steady silence and silent pleading.

The fear kept nagging, though, as silent as the snow. Cassian hoped nothing changed, that nothing ended up being worse than before, so much worse that it was irreparable. He’d freeze time if he could, just to stop things from rotting and withering away.

His thoughts kept him on the ground, until his wings couldn’t take it any longer, feeling the freeing, brisk air—euphoria in clouds. Still, he waited and wondered, watched the little cabin get smaller and smaller.

Still, he wished.

It would be a great relief to see the sparkling rooftops of Velaris. His family, the laughter, the glistening sidra. To forget everything about her and that house.

It would be a great relief when Cassian couldn’t feel the string pull any longer.

Cassian didn’t make it past the evergreens.

He was an idiot. For a multitude of reasons.

He was an idiot for not listening to her or to himself. A coward, for leaving her there. He had flown and flown and flown, and she was alone… just like he always felt, waiting to suffocate under the weight of snow that just kept falling.

He remembered the little boy who fought for the clothes on his back. The one who looked at his brother and wanted what he had, and instead of feeling remorse, beat him until his brother’s clothes belonged to him. Refusing, not for one second, to believe that he could be swallowed whole by the earth without it feeling his kicking rage.

His anger had never been quiet… and neither was hers.

Cassian kicked open the door, lugging the monstrous pine through. The door, smaller than he ever noticed. The needles poked at his skin, and he refused, absolutely refused to let it damper any bit of Solstice spirit he would puke inside this house.

He was so busy, dragging the tree through the kitchen, muttering to himself in a fit of aggressive yuletide carols, he hadn’t even the tea kettle whistling, or the pillows strewn across the floor.

Cassian stopped, completely and utterly wrecked at the sight of her.

Nesta stared at him, the color of winter in her gaze. She did not look away, and Cassian reminded himself, again, that he was an idiot. Not because he left, or… came back, but because she was here, and he couldn’t even think about leaving her.

Cassian imagined this many times. Played it over and over as his soul enjoyed the flight, his heart wrestling with his mind. In his head she always looked angry, her eyes a thin layer of ice that he’d fall and drown in.

Instead she looked breathless… and surprised. And, the look made him smile softly at her, a breath of fresh air to the million minutes he was suffocating.

“I thought you were supposed to be in Velaris.” Nesta said shockingly.

He expected to hear a tinge of anger at being disturbed; for seeing her relaxed and warm and normal. But the anger he knew roared in her, that he stoked along with fireplace, had perhaps been buried under inches of snow—along with his excuses.

Nesta was dressed more casually than he had ever seen her, wore merely an oversized sweater and leggings. Her fluffy socks peeking out beneath the checkered blanket she cradled close to her chest. There was a book on the coffee table, silently staring at both of them, waiting.

Cassian wondered why she hadn’t already bolted.

Maybe she was just as surprised as he was… Or maybe she wanted this as much as he did. The thought, somehow, made him feel both warm and foolish.

“I was on my way to Velaris.” Stupid. He was so, so stupid for thinking this was a good idea, “but I came back.”

Nesta looked at him curiously, took in the whole of him, no doubt flushed by the cold wind, and ruffled by the tree. If she was any of the others, she would have already been laughing at his disarray, the way he tried not to fidget at her judgment.

But Nesta wasn’t anything like the others, and maybe that’s why nothing in his body could leave her. She was like him—even if she hated it. Even if he hated it sometimes. She could tear him up easily if she wanted to, knew his weaknesses like they were her own.

“Why?” Nesta asked softly, always questioning. Always curious.

Cassian wanted to tell her the whole story, to write it out like a novel she could read and dissect. Wanted to tell her that he had been waiting for her all this time, watched that door and hoped the knob would turn suddenly. That he wanted to talk with her but didn’t want to be the reason she hated this world. That he was scared, and angry, and not okay in the slightest—and it was easier. So, so easy to pretend.

It was never easy to forget, however, and maybe that’s why he was standing here. Still carrying the tree, he hadn’t set down. The weight making his shoulder ache, and his hands just wanting to hold her, like some lovesick fool.

Cassian didn’t know where to start this new game of theirs, a different kind than their raging words. Scarier, still.

He supposed, he’d start with the truth.

“It’s Solstice. And, this year, I want to celebrate it in this house… with you.” He finished lamely. His chest raced to catch up with his thoughts, his lungs suddenly out of breath. “If that’s okay.”

Nesta looked uncomfortable with the words, her own caught in her throat at the thought that he wouldn’t leave. Things he knew she wanted to say, because he had seen that look many times, when he was too stubborn to let her win their many arguments.

“What about the others?” She asked convincingly. Cassian merely jostled the tree so that it laid more securely, dragging it past the snipe of cold and frostbite. He didn’t take his gaze off of Nesta as he moved, entranced by the whole of her. Hoping to all heavens that she’d never stop talking.

“They can survive without me this year.” The tree was heavy as he neared the window, the earth embracing the snow like two long-distant lovers. “Besides I sent the presents early, so they won’t miss me too much.”

She worried her lip in her teeth, her eyebrows furrowing in contemplation. He wondered if she did really prefer being alone to being with him. Cassian brushed over the ache before it could show on his face… or in his temper.

Cassian stood the tree up, near the window and the fireplace. When he was flying past, he sometimes saw her there, looking outside like she, too, wondered if winter was an enemy or a silent guardian.

Right now, it was easier to tell. Its watchful gaze reflecting Nesta’s curiosity through the glass. He’d give her all the answers if only she asked.

But Cassian underestimated how large the tree was to the house, got lost in his impulsive need to come back like he had never left to begin with. The height reached past the ceiling, the tip bending to fit. It lugged side ways and he almost lost his grip, the tree swaying dangerously… and then steady.

He looked over at Nesta, surprised, her thin hands holding the other side. Even though she stared pointedly at the pine needles, she held on to it tightly. The almost-toppled tree a book laid open before her.

He’d seen that look before, too.

Her wide eyes only narrowed, when she couldn’t ignore his stare any longer. Cassian wanted to sigh with relief that she wasn’t angry or embarrassed or annoyed. Just waiting and willing, it seemed. The eyebrow she raised, told him enough, made him want to laugh, giddiness crawling up his chest.

“Can I ask why you cut a tree so large?”

Cassian grunted at the question, shifting it slightly to get to the bottom. Nesta held it sturdily, while he secured the base. When he came back up, she was still waiting patiently for his answer. He motioned with his hands to let go.

“Honestly,” A good place to start. “It was the first one I saw on my way home, and it was large and… perfect.” He held his arms out in admiration—exaltation. “So, this one it is.”

The tree stood proudly, only slightly hitting the ceiling. It looked at them both, watched and waited for them to move or to speak. An audience to their little game, that would either have no winners or two.

Cassian wrung his hands, his palms sweaty and nervous and so unlike him, that he almost laughed at himself. Nesta played with her fingers, and he felt the need to grab them, to enclose them around his and hold tightly. As though, it would make him feel steady.

He smiled softly at the tilt of her head, her pale neck bare and bending to look at the tree. Its height much taller than her.

Cassian gestured towards it and moved to get the box of decorations in his room.

The lights and bulbs had sat silently in the back of his closet. He had bought them, when he had bought the cabin and never used them since. Cassian didn’t asked himself why he bought them, didn’t really want to answer a question he only asked in his dreams.

Nesta waited at the door, looking in, but never stepping over the threshold. The box was light in his arms as he made his way back to living room, Nesta following him even if she pretended, she’d rather be doing something else. Casually, walking behind him.

The tree was bare and so was the house, but not for long. Not when they had a box filled with color, and two people with time and a terrible need to use it.

His lips turned up slightly, smaller and then wider, and then small again. Stupid and comical. He shook his head internally. “Help me decorate?”

Cassian wanted to show her that there was nothing to be afraid of. Not with him, and definitely not with them, together. That this game was something they’d surely win, if only they could do this one thing.

Nesta’s eyes searched his own, deciding what the cost would be. She went down the line of consequences, of future problems or regrets. Cassian hoped she’d choose him—for whatever it was worth, whatever the cost.

Cassian.

Instead of her quiet bedroom filled to the brim with books and blankets. Things that brought her more comfort and love than he ever had.

His wings widening out of habit, Cassian hoped like a child’s solstice wish that she’d stay.

“Okay.” She answered softly. Whole and steady like the tree. Waiting, and curious.

If Cassian didn’t already have wings, he would have grown them, then. Her flushed cheeks revealing what her eyes could not. Like, the winter had brought in more than new snow.

“Do you do this every year? Decorate the house in lights and greenery?”

The conversations had reached a steady humming of words. He was content, as her strong voice kept asking questions. Cassian answered them eagerly, rushing to fill her mind with wonder, before Nesta finally decided she had enough and stormed away. Gone, like she’d never been there to begin with.

“Of course.” He picked up another string of lights, ready to hang them across the living room like they had done with the tree. “It’s a Solstice tradition.” His answer bright and cheerful.

Cassian didn’t mention how he had done it last year, too. How he wished, just like her sisters did that she had helped pick colors or set mantles. How it was a family activity, and though she didn’t want to be, she was family. Not just Feyre’s family anymore… Though sometimes they didn’t act like it much—a thought that made him ache at the regret a little more than just how her attitude had been.

Nesta gently lifted the red bulb in her hands, watching as it fit on the branch and hung with purpose and glee. She shrugged her shoulders casually, and Cassian marveled at the whole of her, at the strength it must have took to stay with him.

“It just seems like a lot of work.”

“It is.” He smiled widely, even wider at the look she gave him, like she didn’t know where the old Cassian had gone and when he’d been replaced by this festive version, that didn’t bite or pretend to. “When it’s all done though, you’ll see.”

Nesta looked doubtful, but Cassian knew the wonders of Solstice, the wonders of not being alone. Every little light fulfilling a million different wishes. All of them intangible and twisted. Ready to unravel at the sight.

Indeed, when they finished, half the day had flown by. The sky changing as the box of decorations emptied. When it was dark enough, the sky a deeper shade of violet and the stars poking through, Cassian turned them all on.

The tree lit a beacon of hope across the living room. The arches covered in garlands and color looked straight out of a picture book.

Cassian had never seen this place look so… homely. Like he wanted to live here and love here and laugh here. Again, and again.

Nesta stared in awe at the lights. The backdrop of snow making the room ethereal—magical. He almost forgot that she hadn’t gotten to see them properly. The last time not going as well as they all hoped or planned.

She encircled the room—slowly, taking in the colors. Cassian watched her as he was prone to do, like he always did even if he pretended otherwise. The slight upturn of her lips made his own raise involuntarily. His heart twisting as the blues and greens danced on her cream-colored sweater.

Nesta looked at him then, and he wondered how many time they had asked these wordless questions, when their own voices couldn’t do their hearts justice. She watched him with the same awe she looked at the lights with, like the winter itself had surpassed every logic and it was snowing inside the house. Surrounding them with something new, bright, and alive.

“I have to go get something.” He breathed, the words rushing out of his mouth, without a thought. She left him breathless and scrambling to put all the pieces back together that he ruined last year.

She blinked up at him, and Cassian wished he had kept his foot out of his mouth.

His heart raced, but the last shop was closing, a young shop owner all to ready to end the day, but who held onto a small box for him. A gift. One that he spent a whole day wading in the water for, after that disastrous first Solstice.

“It’s not going to take long.” He could barely grasp out the words, his own sentences fumbling in his search for his coat, his head. Where it had gone, he didn’t know. Lost somewhere between Nesta’s eyes and her pleasant smile. “Just— just stay here. Okay?”

He found his coat thrown haphazardly on the dining room table, remembered that Solstice didn’t actually start until three days from now. They’d need food and cocoa and wood to keep the fire burning and bright.

He’d collect each item. Wrote them on the list in his head and added more when he looked at Nesta and her thin sweater. Blankets and a heavier coat for her… and gloves. So, they could go outside and… start a new tradition.

Just him and her, and the time he promised.

Cassian rushed to the door, a flurry of hard limbs and snow, but she grabbed his arm. Strong, steady, and warm.

“You’re coming back,” her face awash in reds and greens, “right?”

Cassian wanted to hold her close, so close she’d feel how fast his heart moved. He couldn’t tell if he was out of breath or his chest had decided to combust. He wanted to hold her close, to take that haunted dip of her voice away, until he only heard peels of laughter that he’d heard quietly through the day—and those sweet, roaring insults he knew well.

But first the box, and then he’d show her why she’d never have to worry about that again. Never as long as they lived, even after the snow melted away.

He smiled at her, big and bright, grabbed her shoulders gently. Keeping a distance, to let her get used to him.

Cassian slowed his movements down. Nothing about her and him had to be rushed. He’d use all the time she gave him.

“I’ll be right back.”

Blue met hazel and Cassian understood why they took so long, why it would take longer and longer until she’d never doubt him again. But the light shown brighter in her eyes, and a chance lied between them. A chance he was going to plant firmly, like the evergreen. Standing proudly like a trophy they had both won.

When he came back, he’d bury them under blankets, and alive they’d be. Dancing under starlight and winter, reds and greens. Wrapped tenderly, sweetly protected by the light and their dreams. The warmth surrounding them like falling snow.

“I promise you.”

Disclaimer: I understand that this world may or may not have electricity, but suspension of disbelief y’all. Also, I rhyme a lot. I’m trying to stop, but it happens every time I write. I don’t know what’s going on. I re-read this thing like 7x I'm over it. On to the next one.

ALSO- these fics keep getting longer and tumblr isn’t as good about in on mobile so I might have to start linking it back to AO3. Sorry just be aware.

-No tags, but comments, likes, and reblogs are always welcome!

#nessian #nesta archeron #nesta #cassian #nesta x cassian #post acofas #acotar #nessian fanfiction #acofas #fanfiction #fluffmaas 2018

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carmenlire · 5 years

Text

White Blank Page Ch. 3

Edit courtesy of the lovely @kindaresilient!!

read chapter one

read chapter two

read on ao3

Magnus smiles as the door above him chimes cheerfully. The display is mostly the same, though he’s intrigued as he sees a sign advertising a midnight story hour at the bookstore in a few days, in celebration of Halloween.

It seems like the year’s gone by much too fast, Magnus reflects. Before he knows it, the snow will be falling and he’ll be trying to fit in his Christmas shopping into his bursting schedule.

This time around, there are several people milling about Lightwood Books, though no one spares him a second glance. Magnus doesn’t immediately see Alec but now that he knows to look for it, he can detect Lightwood’s background in the casual elegance and quality of the decor.

Magnus had met Maryse and Robert a few years ago before their divorce at a charity gala at the Four Seasons in Midtown. They’d only spoke for a few minutes but it had been like pulling teeth, Magnus overwhelmingly aware of what the couple thought of him.

New money, he’d hard Robert sneer to Maryse as they’d turned and walked to catch up with other friends.

That had been enough for Magnus. He’d poured his blood, sweat, and countless tears into his company and he didn’t need bigoted assholes condescending to him.

When he’d heard a few weeks later that the Lightwoods gave money to anti-LGBT groups among other equally conservative causes that caused him to gnash his teeth, Magnus had scoffed as he’d edited the story, unsurprised. They seemed like people who’d look down on anyone who didn’t fit their arbitrary, far-too-narrow mold.

It doesn’t look like their eldest son took after them though. Thank God, Magnus thinks.

Alec had been nothing but warm and welcoming the last time Magnus was here and he hopes to see the man again. Though really, he doesn’t know Alec’s schedule in the least and he might just be wasting his time on a fool's errrand.

Wandering through the aisles, Magnus picks up a book on botany for Ragnor as he makes his way upstairs. Looking down at his watch, Magnus makes a note that he has around an hour to kill before he needs to go back to his apartment and change for dinner with Camille.

Looking down, he doesn’t see the person he runs into until it’s too late. He’d clipped them on the shoulder and as he lifts his head to apologize, Magnus can’t help the instant grin that comes over his face.

“Alexander,” he greets warmly. “Fancy running into you here.”

He has a brief moment to worry that perhaps Alec didn’t remember him. It had been a few weeks, after all, and Alec was sure to see countless customers in his shop.

Before he can worry too much, however, Alec is smiling down at him, continuing down a few steps until they’re the same height.

“Hey, Magnus. I do work here so not so unusual, I’m afraid.”

Alec’s voice is dry but Magnus is deeply interested in the flush that starts to crawl into his cheeks.

“And how are you this fine autumnal afternoon?”

Laughing a little, Alec readjusts the box in his arms, settling it on his hip. His biceps might bulge a little but Magnus does not stare.

“I was just restocking and straightening up the children’s area. We had a busy morning so the place was a bit of a disaster.”

“And now,” Magnus asks, shifting a little closer.

Alec raises a brow, considering. “Well now I suppose I could take a break. If that was what you were hinting at?”

Laughing, Magnus shakes his head a little, unrepentant. “You can’t blame me if I want to spend a few minutes with the proprietor of this lovely bookstore. Maybe I want to pick your brain for the next bestseller.”

“Well, then if it’s alright with you, let’s head upstairs to the cafe and we can talk recommendations.”

Alec turns to go back up and Magnus isn’t complaining. No, he’s absolutely thrilled to follow Alec. Not only will he get to spend some time flirting with his favorite bookworm but he’s treated to a delectable view of Alec’s ass.

It’s a win-win as far as he’s concerned.

Settling them down at a table in front of a window, Magnus takes a few seconds to look outside as Alec sets his box down on the table. The busy Manhattan street is positively teeming with people. It’s a little after three and there’s the usual mix of tourists, businessmen, and teens that always seem to be in a hurry. Magnus feels removed from everyone else and it's not an unwelcome feeling even if it does rarely happen.

“Are you in the mood for anything or do you want me to surprise you?”

Magnus looks up at that. Alec is standing behind his chair, not yet having taken a seat. He thinks for a minute before shaking his head.

“Surprise me, though I’d prefer anything you have be made with soy milk or some other alternative.”

Alec nods once before smiling and turning toward the barista working the coffee counter.

Magnus watches as Alec approaches the counter and orders. The barista grins at him and the two seem to engage in a round of playful bickering before the blonde turns to the espresso machine. He looks more suited to playing beer pong in a dilapidated frat house than making cappuccino foam art but Magnus just finds that it adds to the charm of the shop.

Taking out his phone, Magnus ignores the speculative look he sees the barista throw his way and instead focuses on the dozen emails that have accumulated since he arrived, taking a minute to look through them. When he sees Alec walking toward him, two mugs in hand, he resolutely shuts his phone off and shoves it in his coat pocket.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got you a triple white chocolate mocha. Don’t worry, it’s all dairy-free.”

Magnus smiles and just knows that it’s too open and happy for such a simple thing.

Accepting the drink, Magnus blows over the top before taking a sip, humming at the subtle sweetness that doesn’t take over the bitter coffee. “Thank you, Alexander. This is really quite good.”

Settling down across from him, Alec wraps his hand around his giant white mug. He looks relieved that Magnus likes the drink and distantly Magnus knows that he’d have lied and said that it was the best damned thing he’d ever had if Alec would continue looking at him like that.

“I know people usually have very definite opinions on coffee. Some want it to taste like they’re drinking straight from the espresso machine and others need at least a cup of milk and twice as much sugar to make it palatable. I’m glad I guessed right.”

Alec sounds pleased and his words are calm. There’s an undercurrent of that damned warmth that Magnus wants to reach out and touch.

It feels like time slows when he’s in this shop, when he’s with Alec. This is only the second time that he’s been here, but Magnus thinks that it’s his new favorite place. He can almost, almost feel his stress slipping through his fingers and as the tension eases from his shoulders, he takes another drink and studies Alec with a content expression.

It’s quiet for a few minutes and Magnus is surprised that it’s not uneasy or expectant. Instead, it feels natural and Magnus can’t remember the last time he was content to just sit still and enjoy someone’s company, to enjoy his own.

He’s always running around like a dervish. From the time he wakes until he collapses into bed, Magnus is working. He’s always being pulled in a dozen different directions but he wonders what it would be like if he just gave it all up, right this moment. Stopped everything and stayed here, watching as the fall sunshine paints Alec in gold and as the air smells like toasted marshmallow and coffee and ink.

Magnus almost hates to ruin the silence but he can’t help himself from asking, “So, Mr. Bookstore Owner. Tell me about the next big book.”

Alec chuckles as he takes a lingering sip of his own coffee. From what Magnus can see, it looks like Alec likes his light and sweet.

“It depends on what you’re into. I try to only give recommendations that I think my customers will really enjoy. So, what do you like to read?”

Humming as he thinks, Magnus narrows his eyes at Alec. Alec waits patiently with a raised brow and Magnus can’t resist the challenge.

“I like romance,” he says slowly. “My work deals with the news and when I stop and slow down enough to read for pleasure, I want to lose myself in something light that ends happy. I don’t like a lot of angst and I’d be perfectly fine if the story had no conflict whatsoever.”

A lot of people can’t believe that Magnus Bane likes romance. He loves it in all its forms and many subgenres and while he also likes other genres as well-- he can’t deny the appeal of YA or a good thriller-- Magnus has enjoyed romances since he was in high school and looking for something to do at home.

He’d ended up finding one of his mother’s romances and hadn’t looked back since.

Alec stares into nothing for a minute, thinking, before his gaze snaps back to Magnus. “Would you mind if it wasn’t straight?”

Intrigued, Magnus raises a brow. He definitely would not have thought Alec would ask something like that, not given who his parents were.

Not to mention, Magnus loves LGBT fiction. Unfortunately, he bites back a sigh as he figures that he’s probably read whatever romance Alec is about to suggest. In Magnus’s opinion, there weren't very many authors who wrote LGBT romance well and he’d read most of their books several times already if they did.

“Considering I’m bi, I’d hope to hell I don’t have a problem with that. Lead the way, darling.”

Magnus throws out his response and he can’t help the angle of his chin. It’s not defensive but combative. He just gave Alec an opening and in Magnus’s opinion, homophobic people can never stop their instinctive distaste for those who aren’t straight.

Plus, Magnus doesn’t have a subtle bone in his body and if he’s feeling Alec out-- letting him know that there’s one less potential barrier should he feel something-- then it’s two birds with one stone.

Magnus has always prided himself on being efficient.

Alec just laughs and shakes his head a little. Magnus prays to God that he’s not imagining the interest in Alec’s eyes and the way his gaze drops down to his mouth for a fleeting second.

“In that case,” Alec says, “I want to recommend Higher than the Big Trees. It’s a m/m romance that takes place in the city. There’s no angst whatsoever and it’s a classic romance between a professor and a celebrity.”

“That sounds perfect and I haven’t read it yet. Do you have it in stock?”

Magnus settles back in his seat, crossing his legs as he reaches for his coffee. He’s glad when Alec nods.

“Of course I do,” he says dryly. “Not only are they my favorite author but I can barely keep it on the shelf.”

“How haven’t I heard of this book if it’s so popular?”

Shrugging, Alec just says, “I’ve been suggesting it to everyone who likes romance. It’s mostly word of mouth sales, really. They’re a new author and that’s their first book. I have high hopes for their next one, though. I hear there’s a journalist involved.”

Magnus smiles at Alec’s enthusiasm and can’t deny that he’s looking forward to this book and potentially discovering another writer.

Not to mention, he thinks dryly, that if they were going to write about journalism than he had to read it-- if only to catalog the many mistakes they were undoubtedly going to make about his career.

The two of them talk for awhile longer and when the blonde barista comes around to collect their now empty mugs, Magnus grins a little as he sees the silent conversation he has with Alec.

They must be close, maybe best friends, Magnus wonders and laughs a little as he sees Alec send the barista a deadpan look that could rival Raphael’s when he feels particularly put upon.

The blonde leaves and Alec turns to look at Magnus only to see that he’s already being studied.

“Sorry about that,” Alec offers sheepishly. “Jace is my brother and still hasn’t learned how to behave in public.”

Magnus waves that away. “Don’t worry about it, darling. I’m well familiar with family that doesn’t know when to stop. Now, I believe that we were just talking about favorite children’s books and the perfection that is Percy Jackson--”

Whatever Magnus was going to say stops as he feels his phone start vibrating. Not many people have access to his personal cell number and he grimaces in apology as he catches Alec’s confused look.

When he takes the phone out, Alec’s face relaxes in understanding and he waves Magnus on.

Seeing that it’s Simon, Magnus rolls his eyes a little as he answers.

“My dear little assistant, the building must be falling down or someone had better have just lost a limb. Which is it?”

“Magnus, where are you? You have dinner at Chartreuse BonBon in thirty minutes and your driver just called the office to say you’re not answering. Where are you,” Simo repeats and Magnus’s eyes widen as he wrenches his sleeve up to look at his watch.

“Shit,” he hisses. “I’m out, Simon. What does the traffic look like?”

Simon doesn’t answer for a moment and Magnus hears muttering going on in the background. Finally, he replies, “For a Thursday evening, it looks like there’s just the standard after work traffic. Why?”

Furiously thinking, Magnus immediately decides that he’ll just have to go straight to the restaurant from the bookstore. He doesn’t have time to go home or even to the office and change into something a little more formal, a little more crisp.

Appearances might be everything to Camille but Magnus still looks fresh, no matter that he’s been on the go twelve hours. Luckily, he’d chosen one of his more austere suits this morning and the burgundy shade was a perfect power play.

“Okay, I’m going to head there straight from where I’m at. Tell Elias that I’ll just need picked up from the restaurant at the end of the evening and I’ll get an Uber there. Thankfully, I’m still in Manhattan so I should get there right on time. Thanks for the call, dear.”

Magnus hangs up and looks at Alec who’s staring at him with something that seems like wistfulness in his eyes. “I take it you’re running late for something?”

Moving his chair back, Magnus shoves his phone in his pocket and stands, Alec following.

“Unfortunately, I lost track of time and I have a dinner meeting that I can’t be late for. I’m sorry, Alexander but I’m afraid that I’ll need a rain check for our YA debate.”

“No problem,” Alec says easily as he looks over his shoulder. “I understand how important meetings can be. I didn’t know you were such a big shot, though,” he teases as they start heading down the stairs, Magnus calling his ride. Unfortunately, he’s so focused on the phone that he can’t just stare at Alec’s ass again.

Magnus laughs a little. “I do okay,” he mutters, trying desperately not to tell Alec just who he is. It’s nice to have someone who treats him like a regular person, like Magnus instead of turning into a fawning mess when they realize they’re talking to Magnus Bane, the CEO of Bane Enterprises and the most famous man in the news industry.

“Just okay,” Alec repeats skeptically. “Whatever you say.”

Magnus looks up at that and as they start walking to the front door, he can’t help but feel like Alec’s just humoring him.

Deciding not to think about that, though, and the potential consequences, Magnus turns to face Alec as he takes a step back. “I’m sorry to run out, darling, but I really do need to leave.”

“It’s fine, Magnus,” Alec says softly. “Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.”

Studying Alec for a minute, Magnus takes another step back, reaching a hand out behind him to the door knob.

“Something tells me it’ll be sooner than sometime before I come back.” He throws one last smile Alec’s way before he’s turning and opening the door, rushing out into the fall chill just as his car pulls up.

He’s halfway to the restaurant when he remembers that he never did get that book Alec recommended.

As he watches New York fly by thanks to a particularly scrappy driver, Magnus wonders what it is about Alec that seems to pull him in.

Stepping out of the Uber just a few minutes later, Magnus sees that he has five minutes before Camille is set to arrive.

As he smooths down his suit and shoots his cuffs, Magnus walks toward the doorman who opens the door smoothly and unobtrusively as he approaches.

He’s escorted to his table and immediately given a wine list, which he peruses absently as the waiter fills his water glass.

Murmuring his thanks, Magnus isn’t paying attention to what he’s reading as his thoughts seem left in the bookstore.

With a sigh, he shakes his head a little and reaches for the water to clear his throat and his head. He’ll need his wits about him if he’s about to go a few rounds with Camille and as he starts to review everything he knows about Bellecourt and its struggling, he smiles.

Anyone who knows him knows that it’s the look of a shark circling its prey and Magnus fully expects to come out the winner of their little tête-à-tête by the end of the night.

He stands as he sees Camille’s lithe figure striding toward him on her signature Louboutin pumps and as they lean in for a European greeting that has Magnus rolling his eyes, he can’t help but think that he’d prefer vastly different company for dinner.

Company that looks an awful lot like Alexander.

#white blank page #my writing #malec fic

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rustandruin · 6 years

Text

can’t buy me love (but you sure can show it)

AO3

Home isn’t the four walls you stay in, day in and day out. It’s a place where you feel free to be yourself, and are cared for.

Or, Robert, Aaron, Liv, and Gerry’s lives together observed through a series of vignettes about the random purchases they make for each other.

Day 1: Home/Domesticity

“He doesn’t even like yoghurt.” — Ancient Dingle Proverb

:::::

Dark Chocolate

Robert Sugden doesn’t have a lot of indulgences, but he does like to reward himself with a single square of dark chocolate every now and then, usually after a meal, or a job well done — and sometimes, very rarely, when he’s stressed about something big.

It’s not until they’d officially moved in together (the first time) and bars of some kind of dark, bitter German chocolate started appearing in the refrigerator that Aaron had put it together. Because as much as Robert likes his treats rich and somewhat sweet, he also likes them in small bites doled out over a long period of time.

They’ve never quite talked about it, but anytime Aaron sees that telltale bar is nearing its second or third last square (usually once every couple of months), he makes sure to pick another one up at David’s shop, even noting the name of the exact brand Robert likes so as to never deviate from the norm. The older man never says anything when he spots it among the rest of their groceries, but always finds a way to show his gratitude; cooking a favourite dish the next day, or being a little extra attentive in the bedroom that night.

When Robert moves back in (the second and final time), there’s already an unopened bar of chocolate sitting in the refrigerator — one of the many surprises Aaron has had waiting for his husband. Only this time, the older man proceeds to unwrap it in front of him, breaking off squares for both of them, and offering Aaron his with a soft smile.

Despite the slightly bitter taste, their kisses that night are little sweeter than usual.

:::::

Pads

She can tell who’s bought them based on which kind appear in the little wicker basket under the bathroom sink. If it’s Robert, there’s usually two kinds (regular and overnight), both always the same brand. If it’s Aaron, it’s the standard kind, with the brand varying based on what kind of sale there might be at the chemist’s — or if Tracy’s working at David’s Shop that day, eager to give her big brother a quiet but understanding nudge in the right direction. (She’s never been so grateful they’ve started stocking up on and selling these kinds of necessities.)

It shouldn’t matter, but it does.

Not because they’re both men daring to buy feminine hygiene products in public or anything silly like that. But because it’s a sign that they’re thinking of her and what she might need and making sure she’s always provided for. Even though she’s more than old enough to take care of this kind of thing herself. Even though this is something they could have left to Chas.

(And because she can still remember the first time she’d gotten her period while in their care, and how they’d both been ill-equipped to deal with it. But now? Now, one of them — probably Robert — has figured out that she prefers pads to tampons, and so stopped them buying those, the box of them mysteriously vanishing after their first few months living together.)

There have been many times she’s wanted to thank them. But it always feels silly, in very much the way it feels absolutely ridiculous to say, “Thank you for loving me.”

Only that actually is what she does mean to say.

Because she is thankful that they love and care enough to know these things about her, in very much the same way she knows little things about them. Like how Robert has instructed Marlon and Vic to always give him double the regular helping of chips for when Aaron doesn’t order any, so her chip-loving big brother can pick them off of Robert’s plate, while still enjoying whatever it is he has decided to order that day, or how Aaron’s been secretly learning Klingon so he can surprise the older man on his birthday by saying something in it. (She didn’t ask.)

And because she’s never quite able to form those words, she does her best not to be so gobby every now and then, or just help out around the house more. But then, there are days like today, where she’s seized with the sudden desire to give them both a hug as they’re sitting there watching yet another episode of Top Gear, quietly bickering among themselves, their conversation intersperse with low chuckles at the other’s jokes. It’s all so utterly domestic — and nothing like she’d have ever dreamed she’d be a part of. So she gives in to that particular desire, going over and leaning forward and squeezing them both from behind, before quickly heading upstairs, a hot blush staining her cheeks red.

“What was that about?” She hears Robert ask, confused by this sudden turn of events.

“I have no idea,” Aaron replies, sounding just as baffled. He then calls out, “Liv? You okay?”

Yeah, she thinks to herself before yelling it out. I’m doing just fine.

:::::

Frozen Pizza

He’s never been the best cook, but Gerry knows a thing or two about frozen pizzas. After all, he’s only been buying and making (and eating) them his entire life, seeing as how his parents were never very good cooks — if they ever bothered putting food on the table, that is.

So the first chance he gets, he goes down to David’s shop and buys five personal size pizzas and a range of different toppings, rushing to get home before anyone else.

Thankfully, Liv’s the only one there, spread out on the sofa, watching yet another rerun of The Simpsons.

“What’s all this?” She asks, intrigued enough to get up and come see what he’s up to.

“What does it look like?” He asks her as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m makin’ tea.”

“Not sure it counts if you’re just reheating something in the oven,” she teases, examining one of the boxes peeping out of the bag.

“Yeah, but I’m not just doin’ that, am I?” Gerry says, as he takes the box from her and starts opening it. “I’m makin’ them special.”

He nods at the other bag beside the first one. “I got toppings for each of ya.”

Liv’s expression softens at that.

“Why ya doin’ this?” She asks, but judging from the way she’s picking up and opening the other boxes for him, he guesses she already knows.

“Just wanted to say thanks, I suppose,” he shrugs at her. “They don’t have to keep lettin’ me live here like this.”

She nods and starts unpacking the rest of his purchases.

~~~~~

Aaron and Robert are both surprised and touched by his display of gratitude, neither of them having expected this. For once, neither man teases him, even though dessert is quite literally a cheese pizza with Nutella spread across it and various chocolate candies stuck on it, as well as crushed peanuts. (When he was little, he named this creation the “Peanut Butter Gerry Time.”)

(And though no one really says it, they all kind of get it. Because home isn’t the four walls you stay in, day in and day out. It’s a place where you feel free to be yourself, and are cared for.)

As they begin to clear up, Gerry does his best to explain what tonight was about. But Aaron quickly brushes it off. “Come on mate, it’s us that should be thankin’ you. Never had freshly fried bacon on a cheese pizza, but I’m tellin’ ya, I’m never going back.”

“Duly noted,” Robert had replied, before turning to Gerry. “I know you’re a master of frozen pizza and all, but if you ever want to learn how to make one from scratch, I can teach you. It’s quite fun actually.”

It hardly takes him less than a second to agree.

~~~~~

It takes them less than a month to institute “Pizza Night,” a night where he and Liv relieve Robert of all cooking responsibilities as they do their best to follow his carefully demonstrated instructions.

It’s then, gently stretching the freshly risen dough in his hands — and listening to Robert and Aaron discuss something Vic had said earlier in the day — that Gerry smiles quietly to himself.

He may know everything there is about making a frozen pizza, but he much prefers this instead.

:::::

Cold Medicine

There’s a lot of things that make Aaron Dingle grumpier than usual — and falling ill is one of them. In that regard, he gives Robert a run for his money as the worst patient in the Dingle-Sugden household. (Though he is fairly less dramatic about the whole thing, preferring to suffer in silence, except for the occasional sneeze or cough.)

So anytime the older man hears his partner produce even a hint of a telltale sniffle, he springs into action, first hitting up the chemist for the extra-strength cold and flu medication before stopping over at David’s for every manner of Dingle comfort food possible. (A box of milk chocolate Digestives, a bunch of bananas, and this awful powdered chicken noodle soup that his husband really shouldn’t eat but remembers fondly from the days Chas used to make it for him as a teen.)

By the time Aaron gets home from work, the entire place is smelling of Robert’s own made-from-scratch, Thai-influenced chicken soup — the blonde deciding to save the packet kind for if his husband really finds himself in the throws of a fever — and the sofa’s been turned into some kind of blanket fort hybrid. (The first time Gerry’d seen it, he’d wanted to dive right in, but had quickly changed his mind after seeing the ice-cold glare Robert had thrown his way.)

“You don’t have to do this you know,” he grumbles even as he kicks off his shoes and strips down to his usual hoodie and slides under the comforter Robert has purchased for this purpose alone. It’s clear from his slightly sluggish movements and a grumpier-than-usual demeanour he’s well on his way to a head cold.

“I know I don’t,” Robert tells him, bringing over a tray of soup, as well as a tiny bowl of those oyster crackers he loves so much. “But I’d rather over-pamper you now than sit through two weeks of you refusing to see the doctor until you’re on Death’s door, in which case I’ll have to carry you to the hospital myself.”

“What happened to, ‘In sickness and in health,’?” Aaron asks in between loudly slurped bites, drops of warm soup splattering across his chest.

“When you’re sick, it’s more a case of, ‘When will Death do us part’?” Robert jokes, joining him under the covers with a tray of his own.

The younger man takes a break just to elbow him in the stomach, before resuming his eating with gusto.

Robert switches on the TV, already having cued up Rocky Balboa for them to watch. But before he hits play, he turns to Aaron and softly says, “I only do all this because I’d like to keep you around for as long as I can, you know.”

This brooks him a response from the younger man, who turns to him and gazes at him with warm, understanding eyes. “I know.”

Robert leans in for a kiss but Aaron doesn’t. He shakes his head. “I’d like to keep you around a lot longer as well.”

A twinkle of mischief finds its way into his face as he quickly adds, “Because if you get sick, it’ll definitely be Death doin’ us part. ‘cause I’ll have to kill ya to stop all the moanin’.”

“I don’t moan when I’m sick,” Robert protests, insulted by the very notion.

Aaron gives him a pointed stare.

Finally, Robert concedes, “Okay. Maybe I do moan. But it’s only a little.”

(Aaron just snorts, but quickly covers it up with another loud slurp.)

:::::

Candles

It’s Liv that first alerts them to the fast-approaching date, something Gerry, rather surprisingly, doesn’t say a word about — even though they’d all expected him to not shut up about it for at least a week.

“Maybe he doesn’t want us to make a big deal of it?” Aaron suggests as he laces up his work boots, one morning before work.

“Have you met Gerry?” Robert asks him, only a hint of sarcasm in his voice, as he buttons up his shirt. “He texted me pictures of the first carrot he pulled from Doug’s garden.”

“Then why wouldn’t he mention his birthday?” Aaron asks, getting to his feet.

“How should I know?” Robert shrugs. “So, what are we going to do then? The usual?”

“The usual?” Aaron asks, confusion entering his voice as he turns to face his husband.

“Breakfast, cake, and presents?” the other man explains, as he checks himself out in the mirror. (The younger man uses this opportunity to admire his husband’s firm behind, sending out a mental thank you to whoever sold him that pair of jeans.)

Aaron tears his eyes away a moment later and nods thoughtfully, “Yeah… And then maybe a small party at ours later.”

“Sounds good,” Robert confirms, stepping forward to give him a kiss on the lips. “Alright. I have to rush to that meeting, but we’ll talk about this later, yeah?”

Aaron smiles back in response. “Yeah.”

~~~~~

When he doesn’t show up the morning of his actual birthday, they all exchange concerned glances across the table, while a chocolate ice cream cake slowly melts, and a stack of freshly made pancakes begins to cool.

Liv goes up to check on him but returns shortly thereafter. “He’s not up there, and the bed doesn’t even look slept on.”

“Does that mean he just didn’t come home, then?” Aaron asks, confused by this development.

“He could be staying at a mate’s,” Robert suggests. “It is a Sunday.”

“No,” Liv tells him, sure of herself. “Gerry always comes home. He would have told me. He never stays out this long.”

“Alright, let’s give him a ring then,” Robert tells her. “Find out where he is.”

Liv does as he says. But she shakes her head a second later. “It went straight to voicemail.”

“It must be switched off,” Aaron says, running a hand through his hair. “Like usual. This is why I’m always tellin’ him to keep it charged.”

“Let’s not panic. I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this,” Robert says calmly. “I’ll ring Doug. Aaron, you call Belle and see if Lachlan’s seen him. Liv, ring Chas and find out if he was at the pub last night.”

They all get to work, each calling the person they’d been assigned, despite the relatively early hour.

Doug, an early riser, is the first to confirm he hasn’t seen Gerry. Followed by Chas, and eventually Belle (and Lachlan).

No one’s seen him today — or last night for that matter.

“What do we do?” Aaron asks, worry starting to creep it’s way into his voice. “Do we call the call the police?”

“Maybe we better check with a few more people first,” Robert says, even though there’s more than a hint of doubt in his tone. (If anything, Gerry is an over-texter, constantly alerting them to any update in his or Tip’s lives. Robert’s never known so much about a dog’s poo in his life.) “It could just be that his phone just died before he could phone Liv or one of us. Do we know any of those friends he’s always hanging out with?”

He sounds like he’s barely convinced himself.

“Know any of whose friends?”

They all look up to see a slightly sweaty Gerry standing in the doorway, none of them having noticed his entrance. He’s dressed exactly the way he was yesterday.

“Gerry!” Liv exclaims, the first to recover from her shock. “Where were ya?! We were worried sick.”

It speaks volumes that neither man corrects her or makes a joke. Because it’s true. Though they’d been hiding it, they really had been concerned for his welfare.

Thankfully Gerry has the grace to look apologetic.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry ya,” he says, concern etched all over his face.

“That still doesn’t tell us where you were,” Aaron points out gruffly.

Gerry’s cheeks turned pink.

“Today’s my birthday,” he tells them, unaware that they already know, and not nearly observant enough to have noticed what’s been sitting on the table. “Thought I’d go and see my mum and dad.”

The mood in the room instantly shifts, the intense worry transforming into a more gentle version of itself.

“So, how’d it go?” Liv asks after a long beat of silence has passed.

“They weren’t there,” Gerry shrugs, as if it was the response he’d expected.

Robert and Aaron exchange a look at that. Liv’s attention is focused on her mate. “So they just left ya?”

“I guess,” he says with another shrug. “I tried to ask around about them, but no one remembered. They still thought I was in prison. I was gonna call you but then my phone died and I used the last of my money to get back…”

No one says anything for a bit, each one of them knowing there aren’t enough words for a situation like this, and that nothing they say will be adequate enough.

“Is that an ice cream cake?!” Gerry suddenly exclaims, unfettered joy shining through his voice in that way it always does. “For breakfast?!”

It takes him another second to realise the significance of it. “Wait… Is this for me?”

“No, you idiot,” Liv tells him warmly. “It’s for the other Gerry Roberts who lives here. Of course, it’s for you!”

Gerry looks at all their faces, one by one in succession. “I love it!”

And then, a little more shyly, “You didn’t have to.”

“We know,” Aaron tells him firmly. “But we wanted to.”

“Everyone deserves a birthday celebration,” Robert adds, leaving the counter he’d been leaning against and taking the empty seat by Aaron at the table.

“Even teenagers who never remember to charge their phones,” Aaron adds, slightly sternly, with a twinkle in his eyes.

Gerry’s cheeks turn pink at that, but it does nothing to dampen the sunny smile on his face.

“Alright,” Robert says, clearing his throat. “Let’s get this party started. Liv, pass me that knife.”

~~~~~

Finally, it’s time for presents, which of course Gerry is completely bowled over by. (“You mean this wasn’t it?!”)

Robert and Aaron go first, the scruffy haired man handing him an impeccably wrapped rectangular package. The teen opens it to find a set of grey sheets. The look on his face is a mixture of confusion and delight, clearly not having anticipated this at all.

“Uh. Thanks. I’ve never owned my own bed sheets before!” He tells them, running his hand over the soft, folded fabric.

Both older men trade knowing glances and smiles at that.

“We’ve all had a chat,” Robert informs him gently. “And we decided you won’t be sleepin’ in our guest room anymore. You’ll be sleeping in your own room instead.”

“You’re kicking me out on my birthday?” Gerry asks in surprise, pausing from feeling the softness of the fabric in his hands.

“No, you muppet,” Aaron says, shaking his head. “We’re giving you the guest room. It’s going to be your bedroom from now on.”

The boy’s eyes widen in disbelief at that news. He looks at Aaron, before turning back to Robert, before turning back to Aaron again.

“What… What about Seb?” Gerry asks, turning to Robert. “Won’t he need a place to stay?”

The older man smiles at the consideration the boy is showing.

“Yeah, well, we decided I didn’t really need a home office after all,” Robert tells him, his eyes flitting to Aaron for half a second. “We’re going to turn that into Seb’s room instead.”

Gerry nods, but now there’s a confused frown on his face. “But… Why?”

“You’ve been livin’ here long enough,” Aaron explains with a shrug. “Just thought we’d make it official. Give ya an actual place to call ‘home.’”

“I don’t even have stuff,” the teen insists, the news still sinking in.

“Then it’s a good thing it’s ya birthday,” Liv pipes up. “Now you have someplace to put all your presents.”

He blushes at the very thought.

“Speakin’ of which,” Liv says, before sliding over her present.

Gerry picks up the long, thin, rectangular object and rips away the paper to reveal a wooden sign bearing his name. He grins at the sight of it.

“Just thought you’d like to really make it official,” she tells him, happy with his reaction to it.

“I don’t know what to say,” he says, unable to take his eyes off of it.

“That’s a first,” Robert quips, eliciting a chuckle from all of them — including Gerry, who’s still clutching the sign.

“Thank you,” he finally manages, the word laced with all the emotion he’s currently feeling but simply unable to express.

“You’re one of us now,” Aaron tells him firmly. “So you better not go out without telling one of us ever again. You get that?”

“Yes sir,” Gerry replies, bashfully.

“Good,” Robert says, stepping in. “Now go upstairs and start figuring out where you’re going to put your stuff. Aaron and I have got to start clearing up if we’re going to get ready for your party tonight. Half the village is coming. Even Cain.”

“When did you get so popular?” Liv asks, surprised by this news.

“I dunno,” Gerry shrugs. “Guess I just have a way with people!”

~~~~~

“So, what’d you wish for?” Liv asks Gerry as she removes another one of the candles she’d picked up from David’s Shop earlier in the day off the cake they’d gotten for the party. Beside her, the older boy is busy helping himself to yet another slice, effectively reducing the amount they’d had left over even more, reasoning that this would make it easier for her to store the rest in only one container. Neither Aaron or Robert say anything, seeing as they’re currently preoccupied with their own task in the living room, the younger man playfully taunting the slightly annoyed older one by repeatedly moving the big black garbage bag he’s holding just out of reach any time he attempts to deposit an empty plastic cup or a used napkin.

Gerry thinks back to that moment right after they’d finished singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to him, when he’d looked up and seen Liv and Aaron and Robert all smiling at him from off to the side, and he shakes his head.

“Nothing really,” he tells her earnestly, using a fork to cut carve out a bite for himself. “Don’t really need anything else, do I?”

NOTES

I’ve always thought you can learn a lot about someone by what they’re choosing to buy at the grocery store and who they might be making that purchase for. It’s a nice little act of domesticity that can be filled with so much meaning. Hopefully, I nailed all that.

I DID tweak a few things from canon (like Liv’s choice of period management products), but I just felt like it lent something to the story to do it this way. (Also, the Dingle proverb thing cracked me up and I couldn’t bring myself to cut that weird joke. So apologies for that.) I’m also not quite sure about the characterisation and tone in certain parts, so if there’s an issue, please let me know. As always, please leave any thoughts, comments, questions, or concerns you might have below, or come find me over on Ao3 under her_dark_materials.

#robron #emmerdale #rw18 #robron week #robron week 2018 #roblivionberry #aaron dingle #robert sugden #liv flaherty #gerry roberts #her dark materials #rust and ruin writes #my fic #robron fic #robron fanfic #robron fics #my writing #rw2018 #their dark materials

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svtfool · 6 years

Text

have your cake (and eat it too) // mingyu

genre: fluff

summary: chan challenges mingyu to a bake-off, and mingyu isn’t going to lose.

it starts, as most things in the dorm do, as a challenge.

and mingyu isn’t usually the competitive one in the group; that’s coups and minghao and soonyoung and sometimes jeonghan, but everyone knows that a) you can’t expect mingyu to save you a share of food and then insult his cooking skills, and b) you can’t insult his cooking skills and then challenge him to a contest to see who can make the tastiest dessert because for one thing, cooking and baking are by no means the same thing, and for another everyone knows the oven in the dorm is fucked.

anyway, that was chan, and that was two days ago, and mingyu is now covered with gelatin powder and cursing darkly under his breath as the pot of water bubbles and boils over, pretending not to notice jun and the concerned glances he keeps throwing in mingyu’s direction. it doesn’t matter that the deadline chan had set them is in six hours; that’s plenty of time to absolutely decimate whatever disgusting concoction chan’s made and rub his smirking face in it, and mingyu is absolutely not bitter about the fact that he’d asked not only minghao but also wonwoo and dokyeom to help him and been told in response that they were already helping chan. dino’s been getting a bit too big for his boots lately, anyway. mingyu isn’t bitter at all. not one bit.

jun casts another concerned glance over at him. mingyu scowls; he knows jun would be more than happy to help him if he asked, and more than capable, but chan had at least three people helping him and mingyu was going to emerge triumphant without help, dammit. also, he’d learnt an english proverb recently: “too many cooks spoil the soup”, and he was looking forward to holding that over chan’s head when mingyu inevitably won.

as mingyu’s muttering incoherently at the custard-like mixture in front of him, he notices jun do a double take at his phone screen before slipping out of the room, speaking rapidly into his phone in mandarin. he frowns, but thinks nothing of it.

his phone pings with a notification suddenly, and mingyu glances over at it. minghao’s name pops up, followed by another text. mingyu ignores it, curious as to why minghao, normally one to condense all the information into a single text, had texted him twice in a row but still feeling miffed enough about the contest thing to be petty about it.

he’d regret it later when minghao inevitably never let him live down his pettiness ever, but he was going to win this thing and rub it in not only chan’s face, but minghao’s, wonwoo’s and dokyeom’s too.

the mixture begins simmering, and mingyu turns the heat down. the recipe says to let it cool for around half an hour while making the frosting, but joshua can’t eat frosting because it’s too sweet and mingyu wants everyone to respect him as the undisputed cooking god. he steps back to wipe his brow, eyes the fridge and the countertop beside it where he’d dumped about half the fridge’s contents onto the counter to make space for the pie he was currently making.

there’s a pack of jun’s jelly snacks lying on the very top of the pile of evicted foods, and jun wouldn’t even notice that they were missing because he keeps literal bags of the stuff hidden around the dorm. mingyu’s got time to spare (he’s just going to make a strawberry jelly topping instead of frosting), and besides, he deserves a treat for all the stress he’s been put through for the last few days. he’ll just eat one or two and put the pack back where he found it, no harm done. right?

mingyu’s on his phone, scrolling through instagram as he waits for the cheesecake batter to set in the pie case. a lazy chuckle escapes him as he watches a video of a puppy chasing its own tail, likes it, saves it to his favourites.

and then jeonghan wanders into the kitchen, and mingyu freezes.

jeonghan freezes too, as though sensing his terror (mingyu read somewhere once that dogs and other animals can smell fear and despite what anyone else might say, mingyu knows jeonghan was a bloodthirsty chihuahua in his previous life), and they stare at each other for a while, wide-eyed, before jeonghan seems to rule out bodily harm or threat, and lets his gaze wander. jeonghan looks mingyu over once, then glances down towards mingyu’s thigh and–

“don’t tell jun!” mingyu shrieks, because he knows jeonghan’s seen the mountain of empty jelly snack cups and he really, really doesn’t like that look on jeonghan’s face.

“hm?” jeonghan hums offhandedly, as if he doesn’t control whether mingyu lives or dies by his own hand. seppuku is preferable to being the source of jun’s disappointment, but mingyu knows exactly what dish to make for jun to abate the storm of his sulking when jeonghan inevitably tells him about mingyu’s betrayal.

“please,” mingyu breathes, hands up in surrender, “don’t tell jun i ate all his jelly.” the silence stretches on as jeonghan pokes a finger into one sculpted cheekbone, pretending to think, the jackass. mingyu battles between wanting to throttle jeonghan and succumbing to the ‘best of mingyu’s life compilation’ that’s currently playing in 0.5 speed in front of his eyes.

“alriiiiight,” jeonghan sing-songs, an all-too-familiar half-grin pulling a corner of his mouth up. mingyu braces himself – “as long as you come with me. i have something i want to show you.”

mingyu’s blood runs cold. “but– but, but i! haven’t, yet, finished making. my pie,” he finishes lamely, knowing full well that none of what he’d just said made any sense.

jeonghan rolls his eyes, a martyred sigh leaving him as he casts his gaze up to the heavens dramatically. “okay,” he says, and mingyu shoots to his feet, darts towards the fridge where his beautiful, beautiful cheesecake has been setting, and the slowly simmering strawberry glaze just waiting for its shining moment.

the cheesecake pie looks heavenly as mingyu stows it smugly in the fridge, grinning to himself as he closes the recipe on his phone before setting a timer for half an hour. the strawberry jelly topping is smooth and bouncy, and constellated artfully with edible flowers. “chan, that twerp,” mingyu mutters to himself, “he’s going to regret challenging me.”

he thinks he hears jeonghan hastily stifle a fit of giggles at that, and aggressively ignores him.

half an hour passes excruciatingly slowly; jeonghan’s typing away furiously on his phone as mingyu tries not to chew at his nails. he really wants to know what minghao sent him.

to no one’s surprise, he doesn’t check his phone, stubbornly glaring at the drawing he’d done of bongbong last week instead. it’s hanging on the fridge, dokyeom’s dumb bird magnet fixing it to the sleek metal. minghao had helped him draw it, giggling in that punch-drunk way of his when mingyu had sneezed and sent his pen skidding across the table. mingyu scowls, turning his glare to his phone, which tells him that there’s thirty-six seconds remaining, and then glancing over at jeonghan, whose fingers have momentarily stopped flying across the keyboard of his phone. they stare at each other for about a minute and a half, mingyu trying very hard not to quail under jeonghan’s knowing smirk before mingyu remembers his cheesecake.

jeonghan prods at mingyu, hard, his bony fingers digging into mingyu’s side as they walk down the abandoned hallways of their company’s building, and it’s only a god-sent miracle that stops him from screeching and throwing the cake in his face. seething, mingyu whirls around to face the older man. “what the heck, hyung!” mingyu whisper-yells, unsure himself why he’s whispering, except maybe that it’s the middle of the night and the members have a bad habit of falling asleep in the practice rooms.

jeonghan grins brightly at him, stopping in front of him by one of the practice rooms, and mingyu kind of wants to kick him just so he can see that smug smile slip off his face. he makes a show of checking his watch then, one finger raised like he’s waiting for something. “what,” mingyu hisses finally, and jeonghan’s grin only widens. waits a beat, then two.

“midnight,” jeonghan whispers back, eyes bright. “happy birthday, mingyu.” and then he swings the door open and pushes him into the practice room.

immediately, he’s assaulted on all sides by shouts and the obnoxious tooting of party horns, the cheesecake snatched from his hands before he has a chance to protest; it’s chaos, absolutely nothing is happening and yet everything is happening, and mingyu’s so confused. then, the chaos assaulting his ears sharpens gradually into “happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to–“

“mingyu–“ “mingyu-hyung–“ “mingoo-yah–“ “you greedy punk–“

“happy birthday to yooooooooouuuuuuuuu!” and then there’s cake being smeared in his face and he panics momentarily before realising with no small amount of relief that the cake is chocolate and not cheesecake, which reminds him–

“chan, you little punk!” he screams, trying despite a grin to fight the cake-covered hands away. “i win, you twerp!”

“no you don’t!” chan screams right back, somehow directly behind him. mingyu yelps and falls over, dragging at least two members with him. “we haven’t even tasted it yet!”

and there’s cake and cake and more cake and chicken and burgers and so much food it seems impossible that they could finish it all but mingyu knows it’ll be gone by daylight, and they chug soda and juice till they’re bloated and gassy and giggly, and at the end of it all, when they’ve all had a slice or three of mingyu’s cheesecake pie, chan concedes a grudging defeat and mingyu screams triumphantly in his face before doing a lap of victory and soda-induced hyperactivity around the practice room, screeching “HA!” like a pterodactyl at minghao, wonwoo, dokyeom and a snickering hansol before spinning off, giggling madly, and continuing to stuff his face and his belly as seungkwan and woozi, cackling loudly, watch the chaos from the safety of a corner.

it’s the best birthday mingyu’s ever had.

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #admin hui #sebeuntin #seventeen imagines #mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu fluff #tbh this is a mess but im kind of proud of it??#i had no idea where i was going with it and it sHOWS #happy_MINGYU_day #!!!!#will i ever post anything that isn’t a) a birthday post or b) tooth-rotting fluff #stay tuned

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