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photmath · 4 months

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NYE Kiss | Trent Alexander-Arnold

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Female Reader

Summary: At Trent's New Year's Eve party, he confesses to the reader, his childhood bestfriend, that he's lonely.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: mention of alcohol, angst, miscommuncation, childhood friends, kiss

Note: Happy New Year!

With twenty minutes left until the clock struck midnight, Trent’s brothers, Tyler and Marcel were already setting off fireworks. A couple of Trent’s teammates were also in attendance, and some of the friends you and he shared, but there were still a few valuable ones missing.

Despite Liverpool playing a match the next day, Trent still wanted to do something for New Year's Eve, even if it was a bit risky. But he promised Virgil he would kick everyone out by one in the morning so that they had time to be well-rested for the match, luckily it wasn’t a noon match. Even though he had his brothers, parents, and best mates surrounding him, the night still felt—empty. A bitter taste was left in his mouth as he took a swig of his drink, searching for a solution to his ache.

Trent makes his way over to you, a brown bottle pinched between his fingertips. It’s too dark for you to notice if he’s looking at you, but the pause in his step once his eyes land on you gives you everything you need to know. He stops at the pillar of the canopy, face lighting up with the blast of a firework, “Did the fireworks get too much for you already?”

You purse your lips, shaking your head, “No. I just keep having the recurring thought of one of the ashes falling on my hair and it going up in flames.”

The corner of his lip barely tugged up, “That’s quite an image.”

“It’s very rational,” you defend, tugging the sleeve of your knitted sweater over your hands. Trent was dressed way more casual than you, a black pair of sweatpants and a dark gray hoodie. Had you known him and his brothers would dress like that, then maybe you wouldn’t have nearly lost a finger trying to put yourself into your tight jeans tonight.

A beat of silence washes between the two of you as he decides to stay quiet. He wasn’t usually this quiet when the two of you were with his family, but when he was, he was thinking. So in his head that everything else was irrelevant. It could be a battle trying to ground him back to the present sometimes.

“So, how are you?” you break the silence, sparing a weary glance at him.

“Lonely,” he mumbles. He stays facing the alleyway of Tyler’s home where they light another firework and then scramble away from it.

“Lonely at the top,” you sing, referencing his team’s position at the top of the table. Trent gives you a hard look immediately and you quiet down, averting your eyes from his. “Sorry.” There’s a heavy plate of tension that fills the air between the two of you and despite you both being outside, it feels suffocating. “What’s wrong?”

He shrugs, “Everyone is moving.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone moved, I feel like I’m the only one who stayed,” he says. His voice is soft but aloof, still not giving you a glance. “I just thought you would stay. Was a slap in the face to see that your house was for sale.”

It was your parent’s house, the one you grew up in. You lived on the same street where Trent grew up, only three houses separating your families. After riding your bike down the street and dramatically tripping over the rock that you saw at the last minute, Trent came running out of his house and helped you up. Him and his brothers were playing football in the street, the three of them had just gone inside, but he noticed your sparkling pink bike and got distracted looking back at you. Once he realized a kiss to your scarred knee wasn’t going to make the bleeding stop, he called out for his mom and the three of you walked you and your bike back to that house after she cleaned your knee. Trent had stayed by your side the entire time, assuring you that your knee would be okay in the next couple of days.

The sound of a firework exploding shutters you out of the past, forcing yourself to look at a sullen Trent. His bottom lip is tucked through his teeth as his eyes follow the firework’s path.

“Trent, can you look at me?” Trent slowly looks in your direction and his eyes seem more hurt than he lets on. Much different than the bright eyes that welcomed you two hours ago. You swallow, “Did you think we would live here forever? I mean Jude, Alana, Kai….” You list off the friends and neighbors you both shared who had since then moved away.

He shakes his head, “Obviously not, but you could’ve told me you were moving.”

“I know, we’ve just both been so busy. We barely put up the house for sale a couple of days ago.”

Trent blinks his eyes a couple of times and doesn’t speak immediately.

“I am lonely though,” he confesses and it stabs you right in the heart. “The season has felt really long, haven’t seen you or the lads that much. I know you go to some of my games, but we don’t speak afterward, and I miss you. I miss having people around that aren’t my family.”

“Trent,” you sigh. “I’m sorry for not being there.”

“It’s okay,” he shrugs. “I mean, it’s not like I’ve tried to be there for you either.”

“Trent—”

He cuts you off, “I haven’t had much time either but I dunno…the time I do have at home, it’s so quiet. I’ve been staying at my parents house actually, for the past couple of days because I’ve been sick of the silence. Sure, I could’ve walked to your house but I never did…”

He swallows another swig of his drink, the bitter taste in his mouth had yet to leave. And after chewing on the inside of his cheek for so long, he also tasted copper. He couldn’t blame you for being busy. He knew you had just landed the job you had been working so hard for, at a company that treated you well and respected your work, and with the way Liverpool’s hectic season has been going, he didn’t have much time off either.

You're left with your thoughts screaming at you to say something, but what could you say that would heal his loneliness? That you two could schedule a meet up soon? But it wasn’t concrete, ‘soon’ could be tomorrow, could be a week or before the month ended.

“We should hang out sometime,” you decide. “I’ve missed you too. My schedule is clear for whenever, just let me know.”

He downs the rest of his drink, before tossing it in the bin that Tyler usually has next to the side of the canopy but it’s not there. The bottle goes crashing to the ground but doesn’t break, it rolls off some steps away from him and he ignores it.

“Are you drunk?” you ask, eyebrows raised. You knew he shouldn’t have been drinking the day before his game, even if it was New Year’s Eve.

Trent looks back at you, a tsk leaves his lips, “I’ve only had one.”

“One case?”

“Funny,” he grits, any humor in his tone is gone. “I’m being honest.”

You cross your arms, not realizing you pointing out him drinking would upset him. Yeah, maybe you wouldn’t want to be caught doing something you shouldn't be doing, but Trent had been acting out of character the moment he admitted his loneliness. He was never one to talk about his feelings, always shoving it somewhere down deep that you had given up trying to pry out of him a long time ago because it always upset him more than helped.

“Tell me what’s really wrong,” you demand.

He looks away but you watch his Adam’s apple bob as he glances down to the pavement. The door to the house suddenly bursts open behind you, his mother weaving through you both as if you aren’t standing there.

“Fifteen minutes until midnight!” She announces, and then marches back inside but stops once she notices the two of you, “Oh, you two look so cute. Please, you both can stay in the upstairs bedroom if you get too tired to drive home. I’m sure Tyler won’t mind.”

Her presence seems to break off the tension because Trent lets out a low chuckle, “You know, she always thought it’d be us.”

“Us…what?” You bite the annoyance of him switching the topic away.

“It’d be us,” he shrugs nonchalantly. “That we’d be married and have a kid by now.”

Your eyes bulge at his words. He had to be drunk.

His voice rumbles as he kicks an imaginary rock, “What? Does the idea of starting a family with me repulse you that much?”

“No,” you shake your head frantically, hoping you didn't make him feel more bad than what he was already feeling. If Trent was going to be vulnerable for the last fifteen minutes of the year, then fine, you weren’t going to be petty and let your own feelings get in the way of him being open. You choose your words carefully, “I just—” Screw sparing his feelings. “You’re drunk.”

He rolls his eyes, words spitting out of his mouth in irritation, “It was one drink. One drink does nothing to me other than make me honest. Even then, it wasn’t a high percentage of alcohol.”

Your eyes dance between his dark brown ones. They seem more watery than before, the glow of the light from the inside of the house and fireworks glaring off of them. You look away briefly, “Honest? Like I can ask you any question and you’ll tell the truth?”

“Well,” he shrugs, “I don’t need a drink in me to be honest. I’m always honest to you.”

“That’s a lie,” you remark. “You lied to me when you said I could take your car for a drive.”

He rolls his eyes, “That’s because I value my life.”

You huff, “You didn’t have to be in the car with me, but fine, whatever.” You needed to control any impulsive comment you had. Trent was opening up, this was unchartered territory, and maybe he needed a clean conscience for the New Year more than you did. “I wasn’t repulsed by the idea of starting a family with you, I was just shocked to hear you say that.”

Nothing could’ve prepared you to hear him utter those words. Sure, the two of you shared your first kiss together and took each other’s virginities on the night of your twentieth birthday, but the two of you were never anything more. Never went on a date, never received flowers from him—minus the single daisy he plucked out of the grass one day as an apology for leaving the rock in the middle of the sidewalk—but nothing the two of you did was glaringly romantic. He held your hand for a total of two minutes and fifteen seconds one day underneath the table at a shared family dinner, but nothing came of it either.

He was off focusing on the academy, while you were busy studying in school. Once he did make his first team debut, you were in the stands cheering him on. He felt like the happiest man—boy—that day, having both of your families witness his debut. But still, the bone-crushing hug he pulled you into after you all met in the car park, it meant—nothing.

Even the night you lost your virginity, him as well, it was haste. He was in your bedroom, flipping through the birthday cards you received when you confessed to him that it was comical being a virgin at twenty, feeling the weight of society’s judgment on your shoulders for whatever reason, while he didn’t laugh at all. The liquor you both were sipping on gave you both the courage as you went on, sneakily closing your bedroom door and turning a page. After the both of you came down from your high, he cuddled you for an hour before slipping out of your bedroom window and going home.

Nothing was ever really mentioned after that, the both of you deciding it was best to scrape it under the rug so that it wasn’t awkward at combined family dinners, but there was a feeling. A tingling feeling that made your voice hitch whenever he looked at you or texted you. Any visit you made from uni, your heart did flips when he pulled you into a hug and welcomed you home for that weekend.

He snorts, making your eyes dart to him, “We’re being honest, yeah?”

“I’m telling you the truth,” you say.

He nods, “Okay, I believe you.”

Another moment of silence passes between the two of you and he sighs, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Can I ask you another question?” you mumble and he nods. “Why did your mom think that?”

Trent shrugs for the hundredth time that night, leaning against the pillar as his head rests against it, “Because I told her that I liked you. She said to go for it, I told her I would, but I never did.”

Oh.

“When was this?” you muster up the courage and power to ask, feeling breathless.

He blows a raspberry, “Maybe ten years ago?”

You're glad that Marcel misfires a firework that goes flying towards a tree to the left of the house, earning a commotion from Trent’s family and teammates, so that you have time to wipe off the shock before Trent looks at you.

Trent looks at the tree and holds his breath, hoping it erupts into flames. Perhaps he needed a break in the conversation as well. He felt exposed, too vulnerable at the expense of your curiosity and even though he said he would be honest, he wasn’t sure how much more truth he could give out when you weren’t exchanging much back.

“Why are you leaving?” he blurts out.

“You know I don’t live there right?” your eyebrow rises. Surely you told him you moved. “I moved out when I was twenty-two. I live almost ten minutes away, but my parents are moving because they need the money. After I left, they started spending on stuff that they shouldn’t have, putting us into a lot more debt than we should be. So, I say ‘we’ decided to sell because the only reason they were keeping the house was for me. For what it represented.”

Your childhood. A part of you was heartbroken for what it meant, but the other part of you knew it was the right thing to do. You knew it would serve you and your family well.

Trent eyebrows furrow, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew you would’ve wanted to help.”

Trent averts his gaze, “I can. I can buy it.”

“Trent,” you gawk. “Seriously, I’m going to accuse you of being drunk again—”

“It’s your childhood home.”

“Yeah, and I made a choice. It was my choice to make.”

His shoulders deflate, “So you did want to leave?”

You nod, “It was time for a change. They lived there for the past twenty years. A home isn’t a single house anyway.”

“Do they have a place for after it sells?”

The quick glance at the floor reveals the almost lie you would’ve told him, but the two of you agreed to be honest, so you shake your head, “No. They haven’t left the house entirely. They still live there and whatever they make from the sale, they’ll use it to purchase their next.”

“I can buy it,” he states again and you shake your head.

“Trent, you aren’t going to buy my childhood home, drop it,” you spit, voice unwavering as he looks back at you. His jaw is clenched.

“Fine,” he agrees. “But if you have any doubts, I can buy it. I’ll give them whatever double the asking price is—”

“Trent.” You knew he wasn’t going to drop it, he’d most likely ask your parents first thing tomorrow and you didn’t even want to think about what their response would be.

He sighs, “Okay.”

Instead of letting the conversation simmer into silence, you take a deep breath and ask him another question. Here goes nothing: “Why didn’t you ever pursue your feelings?”

Trent rotates his body towards yours, leaning against the column with his shoulder. His hands are still stuffed into the pockets of his sweats. “I was fifteen, I was scared.”

At fifteen, the two of you would’ve already shared your first kiss and held hands underneath the table. You were so giddy, but you weren’t sure if you were giddy at the idea of getting caught or because you had a crush on Trent. The two of you spent so much time growing up together, playing footy, exploring the neighborhood, everything. Tyler would often tag along, and then Marcel as well once he got older, but still you knew you were closer to Trent more.

“And they’ve just gone away?” you ask without a second thought. Your heart lurches as he looks away. What a stupid thing to say!

He coughs, clearing out his throat and your cheeks burn. He looks down at the hem of your sweater, “Would my mother still be trying to play matchmaker if not?”

A squeezing feeling encompasses your chest that you wince. The shock was gone, you were upset now. It had been ten years, you could excuse the first five years because they were hectic with you at uni and him training, but the both of you had sex knowing the feelings were there.

Because no matter how much you tried to convince yourself you didn’t have feelings for Trent, they were always still going to be there. He was the first boy you were really exposed to. The boy you followed throughout the neighborhood despite not knowing anything about him. You wanted to be brave and follow him into the woods. Doing all sorts of things you would’ve never done had he not been by your side. The sweet boy who kissed your knee in hopes of getting you to stop crying held your heart the moment he ran to you.

He watches the way your eyes dart from the fireworks to his family members cheering as they drink a champagne flute. The crease in your eyebrow and nose, he knew you were in deep thought. On a night of too many truths, he was exhausted.

“Just say it,” he whispers. “We’re being honest.”

“You watched me,” you start, voice trembling but teeth grinding, “you watched me get my heartbroken not once, but twice. Gave me all this advice on boys, broke my heart in the process because I thought you didn’t like me back, and then I went on to have two relationships where they were both shit. And you just watched? Knowing you felt something?”

Trent can’t stand to hear the shake in your voice, it itching his ear in a way that makes him tilt his head away from you.

You continue, “I liked you too, a lot. So much that I would sometimes scare myself because I would see my exes as you, even though sometimes it would be months since we last talked. You were always on my mind, and had you said something earlier, all of it,” you wave your arms around to symbolize the time and heartache lapsed. “All of it could’ve been avoided.”

Trent glances down, “I was a coward.”

“No shit,” you yell. Trent abruptly looks at the crowd of people and hopes you don’t catch their attention.

“I wasn’t ready,” he says, truthfully. “I wasn’t ready to give you my all if we had gotten together. I was still finding my footing on the team, all of my focus was on that and wouldn’t have been on you if we were together. Okay,” he relents, “maybe I could’ve spared your heartache had you known, but it just—it wasn’t worth all the drama—”

“Drama?”

He shuts his eyes closed. Think! “It wouldn’t have been worth you getting hurt because I had training. Or I had a game and had to miss something important of yours. I would’ve been physically there but not emotionally present—”

“Do you think I would’ve cared, Trent?” you gape.

He shakes his head, “You wouldn’t, and that’s the problem. You wouldn’t have deserved that. You wouldn’t have deserved me not being present, it would’ve driven us both away. The only times I saw my family were because they came to my game and I met them at their suite. That would’ve been the only time you and I interacted, do you seriously think you would’ve been okay with that?”

No. But you would’ve been content knowing he felt the same. The small moments you saw him would’ve made up for any multi-hour-long day spent with him.

“Like you needed to find yourself at uni and focus on what you were passionate about, I did too,” he says. His voice is much softer and less urgent, knowing that you were understanding and on the same page as him. “But I’m ready now. I’m not saying you have to be ready right now—or maybe you won’t ever be because you don’t have the same feelings you once had—but, I’m here now. I’m as present as I’ll ever be. The season started off fast and will continue to be difficult, but I’ve learned how to be present at home. How to not focus on football and be with my family and pets during my spare time.”

On cue, the rest of Trent’s family—and yours—burst through the back door. There are only a couple of minutes until midnight, those fifteen minutes blew right past the both of you. Tyler and Marcel had stopped popping fireworks as they compiled a bunch together to be ignited exactly at twelve.

Trent looks at you, pulling your hand so that you’re closer to him near the pillar as your family members stampede outside, settling in lawn chairs and anywhere on the floor. Trent hasn’t dropped your hand yet. He caresses the backside of your hand with his thumb as his fingers squeeze tighter around yours.

“I know I was a coward, I know I could’ve said it anytime you were around, but it was never the right time,” he whispers in your ear. “We were busy, our lives never aligned perfectly, and maybe they don’t align right now either, but I’m willing to take the risk.”

A breathy sigh escapes you as you soak in his words. You close your eyes as you lean the side of your head against his chest. You needed to be grounded as you thought, and he was always someone stable. His hands don’t wrap you into a hug because he knows exactly what you’re doing.

“I still like you,” you acknowledge. “I’m a little upset you kept this a secret.” He snorts. “But, if I’m being honest, I’m not sure when I would’ve bursted and confessed the same thing. I wanted to tell you that we were moving, especially whenever we were thinking about it when it was first brought up, but I stopped myself. I was scared, because I knew my first instinct to reach out to you meant that it was something more, that I saw you as someone more than just my friend. That I always have. Every failed relationship was a reminder of it.”

Trent chuckles, finally being able to breathe. The tightening feeling in his chest had dissipated, replaced with jittery nerves as he restrained himself from pulling you into a hug.

You drop Trent’s hand and face him. If he was confused, he hid it well.

“I’m willing to take the risk too,” you state, the heavy weight on your shoulders dissolving. “I’m trusting you, just like I trusted you the day I followed you into the woods.”

“We ended up getting lost,” he recalls. He isn’t sure how much longer he can keep his hands off of you.

“I know,” you smile. “But I trusted you still, despite being so scared. I knew you would keep your promise and get us out of there before the moon rose. I’m willing to get lost with you, wherever you are, I want to be there.”

“You trust me?” he cheeses, his lips breaking out further into a grin. A chorus of a ten-second countdown breaks out in the background.

“Of course, stupid,” you smack his bicep and the brief contact makes the both of you hold a breath.

Trent knew he couldn’t get the smile off of his face no matter how hard he tried. He didn’t expect to have this conversation with you tonight, but after seeing you underneath the canopy, your clothes and figure lighting up from the colorful lights of the fireworks, he knew he couldn’t let you walk away from him again. You didn’t even hold his heart in the palm of your hands, you held it in your gaze. One look at him from you and he was floored, a weak and desperate man on his knees begging for your attention.

“…three, two, one, Happy New Year!”

Your blissful eyes combined with his gleeful ones don’t look away as you both lean closer. Your hands stay tucked by your side, his suddenly not wanting to move either as he leans down. The moment your nose grazes his, you close your eyes and let him kiss you. You press your lips further into his as the sound of fireworks go off behind you.

The kiss feels like the first one you shared together, tentative but passionate. It feels like a new promise, one full of commitment for the year to come. A promise from him that he’ll be there for every second of the day, and you a promise to be present as well. To not make him feel like he needs to bottle up his emotions and wait until the last minute to confess them.

His hands find your cheeks at the same time you wrap your arms around his waist. He pulls away and sighs against your lips, resting his forehead against yours. “Happy New Year, sweetheart.”

“Happy New Year,” you smile, pecking his lips one more time before burying your head into his chest. He pulls you in for a bone-crushing hug, squeezing your shoulders tightly against him and then resting his head on top of yours.

Instead of letting you close your eyes to soak in the feelings of him being this close in your arms, he shuffles the both of you and points up, “Look up.”

His careful gaze looks down at you as he double checks that you’re actually looking up at the fireworks, but he bursts into a nervous laugh when he sees you looking back at him. You can feel his heart quicken its pace as he stutters, “No, not me. The sky!”

“You’re so happy,” you whisper. Earlier his eyes were on the verge of breaking down, but now, they seem so full of light and hope.

“Yeah,” he slips his hand back around your waist. “I got the girl of my dreams in my arms, my girl.” He enunciates the last two words like they’re a testimony.

Your cheeks rush with heat that you’re glad he can’t feel them. He leaves a chaste kiss on your temple before looking back up at the fireworks. And then he glances down suddenly, “Do you remember when we made that fort in my living room?”

You burst into a laugh, pulling away from his chest, “What?”

“The fort,” he repeats, “it ended up crumbling because Marcel rolled too far and pulled the blankets down—you remember?”

You nod, bewildered by his sudden excitement.

“Well, the spare bedroom of Tyler’s only has a mattress on the floor, but there are some chairs and sofas we can combine to you know,” he lets his voice fade away.

“You have a game tomorrow, maybe you shouldn’t be sleeping on the floor.”

“It’s a new mattress! That’s why it has nothing else,” he laughs. His laugh is intoxicating that all your logic and usual bickering dies out. He could build the fort, you’d be right there helping him either way.

Your heart swells as his eyes go wide, his face glowing red. He taps your waist, “Look, look look.”

The red firework that just popped erupts into the shape of a heart. You smile, standing on your tippy toes to give him a kiss. To think you’ve been missing this for the past twenty years that you’ve known him. What a fool the both of you were.

That night, Trent holds his promise as you help him build the fort around the mattress. You steal a lantern from Tyler’s shed outside while Trent found blankets to use and old moving boxes. It isn’t an exact replica like the two of you first shared, but it’s quite close, only this time you two are wrapped in each other’s arms.

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x you #trent alexander arnold fanfic #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold imagine #em.writes

508 notes · View notes

twola · 5 months

Note

idk if this is too vague, but arthur/f!reader in the classic trope of, oh my god I can't believe we both almost just died sex? did they both almost drown? Was there a fire? did he save her life? who knows! i feel like arthur would sees the woman he loves almost die and immediately fuck about it

Okay this has been in my asks for WAY too long and it’s such a good one and I wanted to do it justice.

Left Unsaid

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

When he think's he's almost lost you in a run-in with a rival gang, Arthur quickly gets over his nervousness in approaching you.

The bloodcurdling scream jolts him from sleep, making him stumble up from where he was sitting on a rickety chair in the main room of the old cabin. At first, he thinks it's a dream, but when the sound of breaking glass pierces the night, Arthur shoots up; the chair falling to the ground in a clatter as he quickly shakes the vestiges of sleep from his mind.

This abandoned cabin off of Eris Field seemed the perfect place to spend the night instead of making the trek all the way back to Shady Belle tonight - your yawning from behind him on his horse had him chuckling as he made the decision to stay - doing the gentlemanly thing and giving you the bedroom with the old single bed. As much as he’d like to be sharing it with you - he remained externally aloof - proclaiming that he’d sleep on the chair in the main room. He certainly did not dare to ask to share your bed - not now, probably not ever.

But the rustling and thumping behind the door where you sleep has his heart racing - his hand flies to his revolver as he readies himself to throw his shoulder into the door and shoot whatever it is that is making that noise, but the door bursts open before he gets the chance.

A man stands on the threshold - dirty, and grimy, with a faded gray woolen military uniform and a yellow bandana around his neck.

Of course, goddamn Lemoyne Raiders.

The raider holds up his knife in front of him, and in the din of movement and chaos around them, Arthur can see the liquid sheen over the steel in the man’s hand.

The knife, dripping with blood. The man, seemingly unharmed. The door, slightly ajar, to the bedroom where you slept.

A cold stone settles in Arthur’s gut as he puts the pieces together. In an instant, he snarls, diving toward the man with little regard for his own person, tackling him to the ground and ready to rip him apart with his bare hands for what he’s done to you. As Arthur mounts himself on the man’s chest and begins to strangle him, the movement knocks the oil lantern off the table, crashing to the wooden floor and immediately bursting into flame.

The man’s neck snaps between Arthur’s hands and he immediately leaps up, moving toward the bedroom where you were sleeping.

Another body crashes into him, a Lemoyne Raider dressed like he is straight out of a Civil War battle tackles Arthur to the ground, the two of them tumbling along the floor and breaking through the rickety door to the porch. Arthur rolls backward, unsheathing his hunting knife as he grits his teeth, ready to slice this damn bastard into shreds.

Of course, the wannabe soldier is no match for the hardened outlaw. They sure as hell don’t make them like they used to. Arthur easily dodges a swing of the man’s fist and throws his weight forward. He sinks his knife into the raider’s gut, and immediately shoves him to the ground. He gurgles blood from his mouth as Arthur rushes over him, back toward the house.

The flames burst out the windows as he barrels back toward the door, grabbing at the handle and cursing aloud as it burns him.

The constriction in his chest has settled into a churning in his gut as he prepared to kick the door in. At this point would he be finding your charred, lifeless body, having bled out on the floor because he couldn’t protect you?

“Arthur-!”

He steps off the porch, not sure if he is lightheaded or hallucinating, but you move toward him, hitching your skirts, blood covering your blouse, your hair wild.

“Jesus-” He crashes into you, having nearly leaped the final few steps, crushing you into his chest, nearly causing you to stumble.

He yanks you back, large hands on your shoulders, and looks you up and down, eyeing the blood patch on your blouse.

“N-not mine.” You breathe, but he does not move his hand from your ribcage. It presses inward, against the wet cotton, splaying across your side as if he did not believe you, checking for where the knife would have marred your flesh.

“Arthur-” You whisper, your hands tight on his biceps, “I’m alright.”

His eyes dart back up to yours, searching, pupils dilated, breathing heavily.

“Ar-”

You’re cut off completely as he pulls you against him and presses his lips desperately against yours, muffling your surprised yelp as his tongue demands entrance into your mouth. After a moment of shock, you melt into his embrace, fingers tightening on his shirt sleeves as you open your mouth to him.

He kisses you like you are the air he breathes. Like you are some kind of salvation… like he thought he almost lost something.

Arthur pulls back, breathing heavily, a flush having taken over his face, “Christ-” he goes to unwind his arms from you, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

It’s his turn to be cut off as your hands immediately travel to the collar of his shirt and you pull him down to your lips to kiss him again, needy as you moan into his mouth.

His arms immediately recircle you, hands moving down from your ribs, down, down to your waist, your hips, your rear. Hooking his arms around the back of your thighs, you’re lifted up, squealing in surprise into his mouth as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Continuing to press into each other's mouths, you barely notice him walking the two of you back, further from the flaming cabin, into the woodline, and finally against a tree trunk a safe distance away. He pulls back, panting as you recline against it, his arms tight under your thighs.

He gazes upon your kiss-swollen lips; your heaving chest as you breathe heavily, your pupils blown wide in arousal. Arthur takes the opportunity to roll his hips once, his hardening cock pressing against your cunt, and your eyes flutter closed as a needy, breathy whine escapes your lips.

“Arthur-”

He does it again, maybe for his sake as much as your own, the blood rushing to his groin and filling his cock properly. He grits his teeth as the rolling becomes rutting, your gasps driving him insane.

Before he gets to the point of no return, he slows his hips and leans over to recapture your lips in another kiss. As he pulls his

“Thinkin’ you was dead back there-” He pushes his lips to yours again, “Christ- I… I never told you-”

One of his hands leaves your thighs, but you have no fear he’s going to drop you. He buries it in layers of cotton, pulling at your skirts to move them from his way, reaching your bloomers and pressing against your cunt, watching your face intently as you moan, the cotton separating you quickly dampening against his fingers.

He leans in again and groans against your neck. Grabbing the cotton tightly, he yanks until he feels the seams give way, the tearing sound ringing in his ears as he delves within the ruined fabric to your soaking folds. You jolt against him and whine loudly as he slides his fingers along the seam of your body.

Arthur covers your mouth with his own as he sinks his fingers into you, working you open as you clutch desperately at his shoulders.

After you’ve cried out several times in the night, his hand leaves you and you sigh at the loss, he shushes you gently as he works at the buttons of his trousers, finally freeing his cock from his pants after moments of fiddling. His hand returns to your thigh as he adjusts you in his arms. The head of his cock presses gently against the rim of your cunt.

Your hands move from his shoulders to cup his face, your thumb tracing his lower lip gently before he sucks the tip into his mouth, his eyes trained on yours.

He pulses his hips and his cockhead slips inside you. Your brows crinkle with the first vestiges of the ache of penetration, and he leans forward again to press his lips upon your forehead.

“What did you never tell me?” You whisper as he holds you on the cusp of joining, the precipice of sheathing himself into you.

One of his hands leaves your thigh, though you are completely unafraid of falling with your legs wrapped around him and the strength of his other arm. His fingers brush back a strand of your hair from your forehead, tucking it gently behind your ear before his rough and calloused palm rests on your cheek.

“You’d have died and I woulda never told you I’m in love with you.”

Your eyebrows raise in shock as you clutch at him, and while you remain silent, after a moment, you pull him closer with your legs, nudging his back with your ankles, and he slowly slides himself inside you, inch by inch, until your hips touch and you mewl with the stretch. He hums softly before slowly, gently, rocking his hips, starting a slow rhythm as you get used to him.

His powerful arms keep you suspended against the tree trunk with each roll of his hips, each glide of the inches of him in and out of you, well glossed and hot with your slick.

Arthur’s lips press to yours incessantly, muffling your gasps and whines as he presses into you. After one particularly deep thrust, you throw your head back in ecstasy, bumping against the trunk of the tree.

“Careful there, darlin’,” Arthur slows his hips, and tightening his grip on your thighs, he pulls you away from the tree, you yelp and tighten your legs around his hips. He chuckles softly as he walks you, still joined, a few steps from the tree and slowly lowers the both of you to the ground on a patch of grass. Spreading himself out over you, he buries his head against your neck as he lets go of your thighs, his forearms on either side of your shoulders, rocking his hips into yours again.

The staccato whine of the syllables of his name escapes you as you hook your ankles around each other over his back. Carding your hands through his hair, your fingers interweave between his honeyed strands, his hat long gone in your desperation to join yourselves.

He presses himself up above you as his thrusts become more erratic, his breathing loud and heavy as he pounds you into the ground.

“God-” you cry out as your hands grasp his shirt, “Arthur, yes-”

He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, looming over you as he careens toward completion.

You arch your back, your thighs wrapping tighter around him as you begin to babble - “Yes- Arthur… I love you too-”, another gasp as he hits that spot within you, “God - I love you so much-”

That’s it. There it is, stripped bare and bleeding out like an open wound, his heart catching in his chest at your confession, and his amazement leaves him speechless as he thrusts into you once more, holding himself as deep as he can possibly get into you, feeling you pulse and clutch around him, wailing your pleasure into the night. It’s only a moment more before he has the wherewithal to yank himself from you, in the nick of time as he spurts his seed over your cunt, dripping white into the dark curls at the joining of your legs.

He’s gasping, you’re gasping, and he groans as he settles himself to the side of you, barely able to hold himself up with the exertion. Your legs hang open as you pant, flushed from your cheeks down your neck.

One of his large hands spreads out over your chest, against your racing heart, and you turn your head toward him, breathing out through your nose as a smile graces your lips.

“Probably should get outta here before any more stragglers find us.” He says, out of breath as he removes his hand to tuck himself back into his trousers. You nod and sit up, pulling your skirts down over your legs.

“D’ya think…” you trail off as you watch him rebutton his pants before he pushes himself to stand. His hair is ridiculously ruffled from the amount of times you've run your fingers through it.

“Mm?” He holds out his hand to you to help you up.

You take it, and he pulls you up into his embrace, his hand secure on your lower back.

“Was wondering if we could spend the rest of the night in Rhodes or somewhere instead of heading all the way back to camp…” You ask as you lay a hand on his chest.

He squeezes you closer to him.

“Sounds mighty nice… certainly wouldn't mind a stay in a hotel room tonight.”

#red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead fanfic #red dead redemption #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #twolafic #prompt request #red dead fandom #rdr2 fanfic

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notellum · 7 months

Text

darkness has crept into the cracks of this world for centuries, but it’s never spoken—until now.

it was a mistake how this world came to be.

in the west, a realm is controlled by death. a queen rules with an iron-fist, seeing no mercy as she curls her fingers and crushes a person’s once beating heart in a matter of seconds. every drop of blood spilt is the strengthening of magic, the first kill an awakening of an individual’s unique power.

in the east lies another, a realm overseen by life. killing has been outlawed here, the ruler strict but not unkind. for those who dare to break the rules, every kill adds an extra year of life onto the murderer’s lifespan, a cushion of temporary invulnerability to soften crimson hands.

though they lay side by side, the two kingdoms have not spoken to each other in nearly two centuries, for in-between the realms lies an abyss—a third realm, one that survives in the shadows. it is unknown what lives there, but it’s dangerous enough that most don’t dare cross the border.

you’re one of the few who do.

living a double life, you make a living smuggling items into opposite sides, selling and trading requested items to keep yourself afloat. when you’re caught by the queen, you’re expecting a death sentence. instead, she gives you an ultimatum: steal her a coveted item and she’ll let you live. fail, and you die.

it should be simple enough, but there’s only one problem: what the queen is looking for doesn’t exist.

game (tba)

ro information (tba)

patreon / ko-fi

other works (when twilight strikes)

play as male, female, nonbinary; straight, gay, lesbian, bi/pansexual, gray/demi/asexual, aromantic + have the chance to set your own pronouns

race to save your own life by finding a mythical item and uncover some secrets along the way, including those which have been buried and blacked out from the history books

choose which realm you were born in, including what power you were gifted with (depending)

decide what kind of thief you are and where your morals lie in a world that has no kindness

meet some unsavoury creatures in the abyss, including one that may even follow you home…

romance one of (six) five characters, grow closer to a chosen individual in a canon platonic route or do neither

note: cerise is rated 18+ for graphic depictions of violence

KAHLYS, THE HARBRINGER. [he/him]

there isn’t anyone that doesn’t know who kahlys is. stolen by the queen as a child and gifted with a unique power of mental manipulation, he serves as her messenger of death, doling out punishment to those who have wronged her. it’s been drilled into his very heart that sympathy is weak, that emotions only serve to cause pain, which explains his closed off attitude. still, that flicker of life behind his eyes every so often make you wonder if some part of him is fighting for life somewhere deep inside.

SERPENTE, THE THIEF. [they/them]

while their real name is unknown, you’ve always known them as serpente—as do their enemies. your paths cross often, for they are one of the only other people you know who dare to trek across the abyss. and while this leads to the occasional knife at your throat, even they can’t deny you know them better than most. it’s why, at the other end of the blade, you sometimes wonder their deadpan smiles, sarcastic drawls and aloof attitude are simply cover-ups for something else.

[enemies to friends with benefits to lovers available, or keep them as a one-night stand]

NITARA SOLYRES, THE ASSOCIATE. [she/her]

it is often said that those who cross nitara are never heard from again. hardened from past experiences, she’s spent her life building a reputation as one of the most powerful leaders of the city. and while her skills with a knife and cut-throat ways of persuasion paint her as a heartless soul, her behaviour towards those she cares about says more than any front she hides behind—you would know. over the years, your alliance has let you inside the walls of one of the most guarded people in notellum, that is, if you don’t betray her.

[friends with benefits to lovers available, or keep her as a fling]

VAL BELEDRI, THE EMISSARY. [gender selectable]

though endlessly busy with their duties to the realm, val always has time to spare for you. you’ve come to expect their sparkling hazel eyes when you exit the abyss, though which version of them you get is never known until they open their mouth. it seems that for all the layers you pull back, there are always more. and while you’re getting closer to what you think is their true personality, you soon begin to believe that when the act begins and when it ends is a line that’s been long lost to them.

REYES VERENELI, THE MYTHIC. [gender selectable]

reyes wears their heart on their sleeve and displays their emotions without fear—you’ve never known them to be any different. as a childhood friend you’ve lost and recently found again, it’s easy to make comparisons to who they used to be—even more when it’s clear that something burdens them. still, they’re practically the same as you remember them. that is, as long as you don’t ask them what happened in the years they disappeared.

BONUS: SILAS, THE SHADOW. [they/he]

they’re the darkness itself. people have personified them over time, to scare their children or warn them of dangerous creatures that lurk at night—but they didn’t realize they were describing someone real.

[not a true romance route]

#announcement #cerise #ink\void duology #twine game #interactive fiction

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piscespetals · 8 months

Text

Ruin the friendship

summary: you question ellie's feelings + best friends to 'lovers'

word count: about 11k.

content: angst, slow burn, college au, rich!ellie, fluff, mutual pining

this fic was 17k but i just finished editing it after two days, so i hope that it’s pretty decent. happy reading!

You cursed yourself for the feelings you had grown for your best friend, Ellie Williams.

You were fully aware of how inconvenient it was.

However, you couldn't help it.

Ellie often kept her feelings boarded up, not divulging much of that side of her unless she felt truly comfortable with a person. Therefore, her vulnerability was something that you cherished. She trusted you. A part of her had to care for you, to some capacity, in order for her to be so candid in your presence.

But in addition to the vulnerability, you also appreciated the connection that you fostered with Ellie. It went beyond any typical friendship; it went beyond any relationship that you ever had with anyone. You couldn't help but love that you could be completely vulnerable with Ellie without shame. You loved the way that she stared intently when listening. It didn’t seem to matter how silly your conversations could sometimes be–Ellie was always there to listen.

She had a way of making your worries fade away. Whenever you two spent time together, nothing else was possibly worth your attention. So, of course, you eventually forced yourself to acknowledge these feelings. Because said feelings were not emotions that you usually had for your other friends.

You sometimes believed that you were silly for having hope.

There had been moments when you felt as if Ellie was staring longer than necessary, or touched you a bit too often—and certainly more intimately—than normal friends would. But that thought was always discarded when you two were no longer alone—when you were shoved back into the world of Ellie’s friends—and you remembered that she was quite affectionate with every platonic connection that she cared deeply for.

You would be lying if you didn't admit that you often grew jealous. You wanted to be the only person that held Ellie's attention in a special way. It was ridiculous and selfish. But it was true.

You didn’t personally have anything against Ellie’s friends. They couldn’t help their charisma and nepotism status. They couldn't help their tall height, gazelle-like legs, and international fame.

They couldn't help any of it.

But just because they couldn't help it, didn't mean that you didn't feel any less threatened. You weren’t as graceful as them and certainly didn't feel as magnetic. You liked normalcy and everything that came with it.

Most importantly, you were the opposite of what they were. Frugal, sarcastic, mostly indifferent, somewhat cynical and (as your sister liked to say) 'annoyingly aloof'. You liked keeping a low profile—again, quite the opposite of Ellie’s crowd—and to go with the flow.

The first few times that you hung out with Ellie’s friends, you overheard them voicing your behavior as “arrogant” and “stiff.”

"She's just quiet." Ellie had said in defense. "She only speaks if she’s close to you or if it's absolutely necessary."

And it took a while for her friends to believe that.

You didn't think that this was because you were some extraordinary person who was different and 'not like the others'. In fact, it was the complete opposite. You were quite ordinary, and content with how average you truly were. But because of this, there was a cultural difference between you and Ellie’s friends. The two worlds were so different, that it was hard to bond. You all were merely acquaintances, connected by a mutual friend.

You couldn't help but ponder over this as you arrived at Ellie’s home and rang the doorbell.

The door swung open, creaking because the rusty bolts had yet to be fixed. Ellie was wearing a pair of sweats and a gray cotton t-shirt. She was languid, a sign that she'd just woken up, with sleepy eyes and a lazy grin.

"How many times," She drawled slowly, voice thick with sleep. "...Do I have to tell you-"

"Not to ring the doorbell." You mumbled, bored by the same conversation that repeated every Sunday. "Well, judging by your appearance, it seems like a doorbell is the only way you would have answered." You sent your friend a level glance. "It's 3 pm. How much longer were you planning on sleeping in?"

Her grin widened. "Until you showed up."

You hummed lowly, already allowing your attention span to drift away as you stepped through the doorway. Ellie barely moved to the side, causing you to brush against her, which sent an electric jolt through you.

Just when you felt yourself recovering from her touch, you were overwhelmed by the familiar smell of her. Her natural scent was always comforting; a smell of peppermint and soap, an indication that Ellie was becoming deeply domesticated.

Soon enough, she was locking the entrance door, which caused you to snap out of her thoughts. Feeling incredibly hot in that moment, you heaved a sigh, slipping off your jacket and shoes immediately.

The slight hum of the T.V filled the atmosphere, along with the distant whooshing! of the dishwasher from the kitchen.

"El," You mumbled.

Her hand rested on your lower back, ushering you down the entrance hallway and towards the living room. You shivered at the touch.

"Hm?" Ellie answered, breath tickling your ear.

"Why am I here?"

"It's Sunday."

"Yes." You nodded slowly. "But I mean," You swallowed, trying to sort through your thoughts. "You have so many other friends you could spend your Sundays with."

"I don't want to spend Sundays with my other friends. I want to spend them with you."

Ellie’s hand was slipping from your lower back as you finally stepped into the living room. You left her in an attempt to control your racing heart, grabbing a folded blanket before plopping onto the couch.

"What's all of this about?" She continued. "I always spend Sundays with you."

You nibbled on your bottom lip, thinking deeply about what to say, how to form it into correct sentences, before finally deciding to give up.

Ellie tried to ignore the flutter in her heart as she stared at you. She knew that you'd established their friendship long ago, but she couldn't help but let her mind drift when you looked the way that you do.

Friendzoned or not, there was no denying that you were beautiful. Your skinned glowed in the hues of the sunlight, eyes tender and observant, plump lips pulled into a pout—and slightly raw from your constant biting.

There was so much that Ellie wanted to do to you. It made her core stir, tugging at the explicit thoughts that ran through her mind. It took great difficulty for her to gaze at you without feeling inappropriate.

"If you take a picture, it’ll last longer." You placidly stated, finally breaking the silence. You blinked at her through thick lashes, expression bored.

Ellie’s gaze lingered on your lips before trailing to the rest of you. She wondered how someone so gorgeous could possibly be walking around on Earth without anyone worshiping you. But a wave of appreciation filled her as well. You weren't taken—not yet. She had time.

You were sporting dark gray leggings and a yellow top. The shirt was one of Ellie’s favorites, something that was accidentally mentioned in passing during a night of movie marathons and endless wine.

The stretchy, cotton material hugged your legs tightly, highlighting the curve of your hips and thighs. Ellie didn't want to stare too long—she tried her best to be polite with you—so instead, she looked away.

You felt like you could breathe once her gaze was elsewhere. Usually, you loved to have Ellie's undivided attention. A lurch always appeared in your gut and your palms would clam up. However, Ellie had a way about her that could be intense. It was hard for you to read her at times; to understand what she was thinking or why she analyzed you so deeply. So instead, you were often left feeling self-conscious and flustered, which were emotions that never sat well with you.

Your mouth watered when Ellie finally plopped down beside you. You got another whiff of her scent, which caused your eyes to flutter and your heart to jump in your throat.

You just loved how fresh her entire being was.

Ellie never smelled like a particular perfume. Just newly washed linens and soap, and a hint of peppermint that would waft in her home. She also had an appearance that made her appear fresh. Her skin was always smooth, makeup minimal to highlight the freckles that dotted her face. Her nails remained perfectly trimmed. Overall, Ellie just looked neat and clean; simple. It was attractive.

She was pretty organized. By all means, Ellie's place was never spotless. But her mess was an organized mess. She kept everything folded; dirty clothes designated to one area, comic books stacked in another. The air was always being cleansed with purifiers and fresheners, candles constantly burning, carpet soft and vaccummed. Ellie was the sort of person that kept the pillows fluffed and encouraged coaster usage. She liked to “neatly” pile the dirty dishes in the sink by way of a special order. And she never liked anyone to step inside her home without removing their shoes.

Ellie didn't say anything further on the subject as she momentarily lifted the blanket off of you, crawling under and scooting close.

"It's cold." She mumbled, keeping her gaze on the television.

You smiled softly, heart erupting when her delicate fingers played with yours, before she finally intertwined your hands.

"Is that Ellie?" Danielle asked, nudging you. You both were at your campus cafe, sitting comfortably at the lounge with your school work and iced coffee. You were dressed in cotton sweats and a navy blue crewneck. The pants were rolled up to your knees, a makeshift pair of baggy capris, as you absentmindedly tugged at the collar of your crewneck sweater, peering down at your psychology homework with furrowed brows.

But your attention was diverted the moment that Danielle mentioned Ellie. You snapped your head up, scanning the room lazily before your eyes landed on her.

There she was, walking towards you both in dark washed skinny jeans, a black tee and worn converse. The sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, displaying her tattooed forearms.

"She’s hot." Danielle added, gawking at your friend. "I always forget how good looking she is."

You snorted at that, but deep down you couldn't help but agree.

You knew how attractive Ellie was. Hell—you wish that you could just forget about her looks for one single second. You missed the early days of the friendship, the days when you could glance at her without wanting to kiss her breathless. The days where you didn't feel the absolute need to always have her skin against yours. Those were the times of simplicity; of ease.

“Now I won't be able to focus.” Danielle whispered. You threw an amused glance towards her, suppressing a giggle. "She’s kinda intimidating." Danielle voiced. "But mean women are hot as fuck. So."

Your lips pulled together at the comment, trying to ignore the thick rush of jealousy that filled you.

But you couldn't really blame Danielle.

Ellie was always prancing around with the aesthetic of a Vans poster model; sporting her button-ups and undershirts and beat up sneakers.

And her jeans.

God—those jeans.

Not a day passed when they didn't hug her thighs in a way that had your mouth watering, wishing you were kneeled in front of her. Ellie had a habit of rolling up her sleeves, showing off her ink-filled forearms that were constantly decorated with veins. She was a fucking dream.

When Ellie arrived, she pecked your cheeks in greeting. Then she turned to Danielle, kissing her cheek as well which caused a flustered expression to fall over Danielle’s face.

"Being a good student, I see." Ellie observed, plopping down on the couch. Her thigh brushed against your right. You became painfully aware of her close proximity and wanted to do nothing more than sprawl out and lay your head in her lap. But Ellie wasn't the type for PDA, and you knew doing that probably wasn't appropriate anyways.

"I have an exam coming up." You sighed, glancing down at the bulky textbook in your lap.

Your mind felt overloaded with facts. You didn't know how much longer you should study. It was important to take breaks and not over prepare; this was something that you were aware of. But your test-anxiety always caused you to stress over school material more than you should.

Ellie hummed, grabbing the textbook and closing it. "You look like you're going to pass out so enough of this." She set it on the coffee table a few feet away.

"I've been trying to stop her," Danielle interjected. "She gets paranoid during exams."

"Yeah, I know." Ellie chuckled, shooting you a small smile.

"I can't afford to flunk anything." You countered. "I need to keep my grades up for my scholarship."

Ellie looked at you, gaze unwavering. "You're a smart girl. I'm sure you'll be fine."

Your mind swam at the compliment. You knew her words shouldn't hold much significance, but you couldn't help feeling slightly light headed whenever Ellie complimented you.

You forced your gaze away. Nervously, you played with the hem of your shorts, mouth pooling with saliva and heart hammering in your chest. What exactly should you say?

It felt silly to be so speechless.

"Well, I have to go." Danielle announced reluctantly.

"Are you sure?" Your eyebrows knitted together.

"Yeah, I have a crap ton of errands to run." Danielle began throwing her textbooks into her backpack. "I'll see ya later. And nice running into you again, Ellie." Danielle made a show of her departure. When she picked up her bag, she leaned over in a way that caused her cleavage to pour out of her shirt and for her ass to round in Ellie’s view. Her fingers wiggled as she waved at Ellie, eyelashes batting and smile coy.

You tried to contain your smile, seeing straight through Danielle’s ruse. If only you had as much confidence as her...

Soon, it was only you and Ellie on the couch. Ellie blinked in amusement, registering the pass that Danielle had openly made. She only met Nicole a handful of times and each encounter seemed to become more flirtatious than the last. Maybe if Ellie wasn't already interested in you, things would be different. But Danielle certainly wasn't you, and the simple reality was that you took up a considerable amount of Ellie’s heart.

Meanwhile, you found yourself worrying about the opposite. Did Ellie like Danielle? Of course you didn't want to have these thoughts infiltrating your mind. But that was the problem with crushes; they caused you to overanalyze everything.

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you blinked solemnly. Dread planted a seed in your gut, growing with each passing second.

Now, you were disappointed and even a bit sad.

Why couldn't you fall for people that returned your feelings?

"I did it." You mumbled, voice thick with disbelief, as you stared down at your phone screen. A bold 88% sat in front of you, causing your lips to pull into a proud smile.

A shocked exhale escaped your lips, eyes staring at the website that showed your final test scores—scores that you were incredibly proud of.

Ellie shuffled beside you, pausing the TV show with a frown. Her heart jumped out of her chest as she continuously asked you, “What’s wrong,” yet received no reply.

Did something bad happen?

"I did it." You parroted, this time a bit louder than before and with more confidence. A surprised laugh left you, breathy and short, as you willed yourself to hand Ellie your phone. "I aced all of my finals." You explained.

Slowly, her features morphed into realization. Her eyebrows shot up, a soft grin appearing as she dragged her green eyes to you. "That's great! I told you, didn't I?” Her grin widened. She swiped through your phone, glancing at a few more scores. “I’m so proud of you.”

Oh…

Fuck.

You shifted your weight. There was a sudden desire to leap forward and kiss her until you couldn't breathe. Your thighs clenched and your blinks were becoming rapid. You didn't know what to say without making it awkward—because you could never take compliments well—and also not wanting to make a fool of yourself.

You laughed instead, trying your best to ignore your stuttering heart. Ellie tended to lay her compliments on thick, so you should be used to it by now. But you still stirred with delight nonetheless.

"I don't know. I mean, now that I think about it, not all of them are perfect scores."

"That doesn't matter. You should be proud of yourself. College is fucking hard." Ellie rubbed a palm against her forehead. "I always think about an alternate universe where I might have gone. But then again, I was never really passionate about dreadful schoolwork and the possible debt so who knows. Maybe it's best that I've taken a route like this."

You tried to picture Ellie in school, or at least a younger version of Ellie there.

You smiled, "I think you would have done just fine." You admitted honestly. "The younger you probably would have liked the parties and sorority girls a little too much though."

"Yeah?" She laughed, eyes crinkling and laugh lines deepening. "What about me now?"

You paused, trying to filter through your thoughts. You hugged your legs to your chest, resting your chin on your knees as you hummed absentmindedly. Ellie thought you looked exceptionally cute while doing so.

“I could see you as an Engineering major. Or maybe Computer Science?" You observed. "....There's a few men I know with that major—kinda cocky, pompous, annoyingly charming and whatnot. You know....sort of like you."

"Hey!" She laughed breathlessly, slamming a pillow into your face.

"Don't take offense." You giggled. "I was just kidding about the charming part."

“Fuck. You.” She laughed harder, ramming you with the pillow again. This time, more aggressive.

You stifled your cackles, biting down on your lip. Ellie found herself focusing on them, and how lovely it would be if she could kiss them. She wanted to lean forward and crash her lips against yours with bruising force, to make you squirm for air and cause your lips to swell.

But she behaved herself, chewing the inside of her cheek instead.

Out of a state of pure adrenaline, you allowed yourself to say, "You're Ellie fucking Williams. You're way cooler than anyone that goes to my college."

"Except for you." Her lips stretched into a cheeky grin. Before she could stop herself, she brushed her forefinger against your chin endearingly. "You’re more brilliant than I’ll ever be."

“Very smooth.” You mused, rolling your eyes as you tried to shake off the compliment. But internally, your insides were knotting with agonizing pleasure.

You didn't usually do this.

You tried to deal with problems on your own. You tried to stay silent about them and fight through your emotions in silence. But you were tired of always being 'strong'.

You were tired of never asking for help.

Sometimes, you needed people to lean on. Sometimes, it was okay to let others comfort you. So this was why you showed up to Ellie's home late in the night.

You suffered from insomnia. You always had it since childhood, and there were certain times throughout the year where it got really bad. It seemed to be exacerbated now since this was your fourth night going through hours without any true sleep.

Your heart was racing, overworked and tired from your lack of rest. A tightening began to form in your temples, alerting you that a migraine was about to creep up, and your eyes were dry. Your body moved languidly and with an alarming rate of exhaustion. You could sleep for eons if only you were given the chance.

You just wanted to be able to rest without a care in the world. To get through your day without terrible bags and heavy eyelids.

So when your clock struck 4am, your first instinct was to call Ellie. You didn't give yourself enough time to think about it or to even negotiate the consequences of calling her so early.

It took her a while to answer, but when she did, her voice was thick and raspy.

Ellie sounded as if she’d just woken from a deep slumber; voice cracking and speech slow. "What is it?" She mumbled, exhaling softly.

Your brain was running a mile a minute as you talked to her.

"No, you're not a bother. It's okay, I promise it is." She reassured, interrupting your string of apologies. She talked to you for a little while longer, about everything and nothing at all, before she finally said, "Come over. You can sleep with me. Hopefully, it'll help…for tonight, at least."

You were hesitant. You didn't want to impose and it'd been a while since you and Ellie had slept in the same house.

But Ellie wasn't back down and with the passing seconds, she was becoming increasingly adamant about you coming to her. You finally gave in.

Fifteen minutes later, you were standing on her porch, opting for a knock instead of the jarring doorbell that you normally rang.

A few seconds passed before you heard the sounds of the bolts unlocking. Then the door was swinging open. Ellie stood before you, wearing boxers and a tank top. Her hair was messy and sticking in different directions, and her eyes were halfway closed.

"Hey." She whispered, stepping to the side and allowing you in.

You were relieved to see her, finally feeling at ease for the first time in days.

That's what you loved about Ellie. Her presence always seemed to calm you.

Immediately, you slipped off your shoes, allowing her to grab your hand.

"I'm so tired." You replied, wanting nothing more than to close your eyes and stay asleep for eternity.

When you glanced at Ellie, you noticed the concern that filled her features. Her lips were pulled into a frown, faint worry lines becoming prevalent on her forehead. "I know." She sighed, not happy by her confession.

Ellie wished she could take away your struggles in times like these. You’d briefly opened up to her before about your insomnia.

Silently, Ellie guided you through her house. The lights remained off, the pathway being illuminated by night lights and the glow of the moon.

Your tongue was heavy in your mouth. You didn't have the energy to participate in conversation, especially if it was just empty words to fill the silence. You simply wanted to enjoy Ellie’s presence and the feeling of her firm grip around your hand.

You could sense that Ellie was exhausted too by her lack of communication. You felt bad for waking her up at such an ungodly hour, and made a mental note to thank her for everything. She truly was the best friend you ever had.

A sigh escaped your mouth as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, rubbing your skin gingerly with a face wipe.

You tried to get all of the sleep out of your eyes, feeling a bit groggy from the deep slumber that you’d just woken up from. You were sitting on the carpet in front of Ellie’s full body mirror, trying not to look gross for the sake of sparing her eyes. You had just showered, wearing a pair of Ellie’s shirt and boxers, and tried not to become extremely giddy at the fact that you were wearing her clothes.

But every few minutes, you would be reminded of it and your heart would perform a short dance break.

Even though this was simply another sleepover, it still caused a wave of excitement to fill you. You liked mornings like these; mornings with Ellie.

You rubbed your lips with chapstick, blinking lazily until something caught your attention.

Ellie was still in bed, trying not to be too obvious about watching you, who could easily pass for her girlfriend right now. She wanted to wake up next to you everyday.

She struggled to tear her gaze away from your face, whose eyes were glazed over and half closed. It was apparent that you were still adjusting to being awake.

This was a dream come true for Ellie. You just spent a night in her bed, and now you were wearing her clothes while getting ready in front of her mirror. You looked completely domesticated at this moment.

Even though she knew it wasn't true, and that you didn't feel that way about her, it was still nice to pretend sometimes that you were hers. Especially during mornings like this.

You were so beautiful that it physically hurt her.

"Did I do something wrong?" You grumbled, still a bit slighted due to waking up from such a good dream. You peered at Ellie through the mirror, noticing that she’d been observing you for quite some time now. A small part of you was thrilled and wanted to jump for joy.

Right now, Ellie seemed to be completely transfixed with you and you were loving every single second of it.

But there was also a part of you that was growing self conscious. Ellie was in one of those moods again. The kind of mood that was slightly unnerving because she was picking apart every one of your features without shame. You knew that she probably didn't mean any harm by it, but Ellie wasn't aware of how intimidating her stare could truly be.

"No." Ellie smiled. "You're just pretty."

You managed to hold her gaze for a few seconds longer. You felt like your breath had been ripped away from you. Goosebumps formed on your skin and a slight shiver ran down your spine.

"Yeah, well,” You cleared your throat, searching through your purse. “If you take a picture, it’ll last longer." You didn’t know what encouraged you to say the next part, but you chalked it up to the weird morning air that was lingering in the room. "....Actually, I’ll take some specifically for you. Since you like to stare."

Ellie was aware that you were joking. But it still made her heart race. The image of you taking pictures for her burned into her brain. The context seemed to be pure on your end, but her thoughts traveled to a land of the filthiest scenarios.

Ellie's lips parted, body washing over with a searing heat. Her hands itched to touch you, and ears longed to hear her name fall from your lips as well as a string of other sounds.

But this was completely inappropriate.

Here you were, looking as innocent as ever, and yet she was dreaming about some raunchy sex scene and tasteful photos of you.

Definitely inappropriate.

Your smile faltered at the weird expression that spread across Ellie’s face. You noticed the veins bulging through the skin of her arms as her hands clenched into fists. Her piercing gaze lingered on you unabashedly, landing on every inch of your features before returning back to your eyes.

You cleared your throat, feeling a warmth pool in between your thighs as you pulled at your shirt collar.

Shit. You were ruining Ellie’s boxers.

"I’ll hold you to that,” Ellie finally replied. “You just have to let me know when and where.”

You blinked in surprise as your lips pinched together, breath catching.

Did you just hear her correctly?

A second passes.

Then two.

Then three.

Ellie forced out a laugh, breaking the silence and trying not to cringe. Oops. Coming on a bit too strong. "Well, gee, don't look so excited." She’s such a fucking idiot. "I was just joking."

Your shoulders relaxed. You swallowed thickly, not failing to notice the aftertaste of disappointment. "Oh."

Of course it was just a joke. How could you ever allow yourself to believe that Ellie would ever be remotely interested in you?

A small piece of your heart chipped away as you turned back to the mirror.

You didn't understand why Ellie was being like this.

You tried to ignore the sound of soft clicks and her pressing gaze. Instead, you busied yourself with socializing. Your toes were dipped in Ellie’s pool, sunglasses resting in your lap with a glass of wine in your hands. The water was heated to accommodate the weather and you were a bit too tipsy to slip into it altogether, but it did feel nice against your skin. Your eyes cut to Ellie who was holding an expensive camera.

She focused on you without any shame, chewing her lip thoughtfully. She clicked away with the camera and captured countless candids. Ellie had a habit of doing this with other friends but she always wanted to specifically take photos of you.

There was a phase during Ellie’s adolescence when she was constantly capturing memories in a photo, and this hobby seemed to have trickled into the time that she now spent with her friends. She had taken numerous photos this past summer, which sat on her computer, ready to be edited and printed so it could be compiled into a scrapbook that would feed her nostalgia in future years.

But tonight was different, because she had never done this with you before. It held a different sentiment that didn't exist with others. Somehow, because of you, it made everything more intimate; more personal.

Ellie struggled with nimble fingers as she clicked a few more pictures, capturing the way you glanced over with surprised eyes and parted lips.

"I'll be right back." You stammered, turning to Rachel.

Rachel nodded knowingly while glancing at Ellie. "She can be a bit annoying with that thing—always trying to capture memories and whatnot."

You hummed in agreement, stepping out of the pool and standing to your feet. You kept your gaze locked on the floor as you made your way over to Ellie, not having the courage to meet her demanding gaze.

The chair scraped against the concrete as you pulled it out and sat in it. Silence filled the air, your thighs slightly trembling before you crossed your legs.

Ellie took this as an opportunity…

Click!

The sound broke the atmosphere, causing your head to snap up. Your jaw fell slack, before a fit of giggles escaped your lips. "Ellie!" You reprimanded, trying to reach forward and grab the camera.

She tutted her tongue, smiling ruefully. "Don't give me that look."

"You're being annoying!" You squealed. She was far from annoying. "...At least capture my good angles."

Ellie held the camera out of your grasp. "You always look good."

"You're supposed to say that, dummy. We're friends."

"Let’s be real,” Ellie muttered, sending you a level glance. “No matter the angle or time of day, you’d look fine.”

You puffed out your cheeks as you shook your head. You were averting your gaze, trying to suppress a smile—and failing. "You're really annoying." You grumbled, folding your arms across your chest.”You know that, right?”

Ellie grinned, bringing her camera back up to her face. She didn't say anything further.

The clicking resumed.

"Will you do the eyeliner?" Rachel asked, turning to you. "Brittany is calling me for something."

Your lips parted as you blinked in a drunken state. "I'm not good at makeu-"

But Rachel was already walking away, "Thanks so much!" And then she was shutting the door on her way out, leaving you and Ellie in the room.

You sighed, taking a sip of your wine before setting it down on Ellie’s bedroom dresser. Your eyelids felt heavy. You tried to walk but nearly tripped, forgetting that you had clunky heels attached to your feet. Groaning, you kneeled down to slip them off, almost toppling over.

A hand wrapped around your waist firmly, steadying you as you tried to gain your bearings.

"Careful there." Ellie murmured, voice low. Her touch left a tingling sensation against your skin.

You clenched your jaw, attempting to ignore your shudders as you stood upright.

Then you glanced down at Ellie, who was sitting in one of her chairs, peering back with amusement.

"You're drunk." Ellie analyzed.

"You are too."

She hummed. "Touché."

You reached over and grabbed a tube of liquid eyeliner. You didn't trust yourself to use a solid pencil; you had never done this before and didn't want to hurt Ellie.

"Just..." You breathed. "Try not to move or blink as much." You rested the ends of your palms against her temples before starting. Your hands trembled and the lines were nowhere near straight. You felt the urge to wipe it all off and start over. You remembered the dot technique that you learned years ago, but it almost felt too late to retry.

"Are you having fun?" Ellie asked. Her breath was cool. "Everyone seems to be warming up to y-Ow!"

Your heart stopped. You dropped the pen, allowing it to fall to the floor as you reached forward, "Oh, I'm so sorry!" You winced.

Ellie’s eye was already beginning to bloodshot as it poured with instinctive tears.

"It's fine." She tried to reassure, squinting her eye shut.

"Clearly it's not." You frowned, dipping down closer. "I knew I shouldn't have done this. I'm really sorry." You blew on Ellie’s eye, trying to dry the teardrops and ease the pain. Why were you always screwing things up? A frown formed on your lips.

"Don't beat yourself up. It was just a few pokes. I'll be fine eventually." Ellie reassured. She fluttered her eyes open, trying to readjust to the throbbing pain and sudden silence.

You then noticed how close her face was. One simple move could cause her nose to brush against yours—could make your lips meet. The sparkle in Ellie’s eyes was undeniable.

You didn’t think you’d ever been in such close proximity with your best friend. This was making your stomach turn.

Without thinking, Ellie grabbed a hold of your chin, acting on impulse. Her gaze narrowed to your lips. She grazed the lower one with her thumb, pressing gently; feeling your cool breath against the pad of her finger.

Your breathing faltered. You couldn't help but lean into her touch, sighing at the contact.

The both of your foreheads met, noses brushing and lips only millimeters apart.

Ellie’s other hand found its way to your hip. You complied immediately, straddling her in a way that left the both of your chests touching.

Your hands trembled nervously. You swallowed, "Are you going to kiss me?"

Ellie licked her lips, admiring how delicate you seemed in this moment.

"I want to." There was a pause. "But it's best if we wait."

Your mind swarmed so much that you had to remind yourself to respond. "I guess you're right."

There's a lapse of silence.

One second passed. Then two.

Then three.

By the fifth, you had noticed a slight shift in her expression. Her jaw was locked, nose flared and eyes fixed completely on you. She was restraining herself and you couldn't figure out why—you didn't allow yourself to accept the glaringly obvious reason.

You didn’t want to give into the false hope.

You couldn't.

You shouldn't…

Ellie was shaking her head.

Why the fuck was she shaking her head?

She was inching forward. Coming closer. Too close. Much too close.

“Ellie…” You whispered, eyes widening.

She stopped, eyes trailing up to meet your stare. “I won't if you don't want me to.”

You swallowed, mouth dry. Your heart felt like it was in your throat, unprotected—entirely too vulnerable.

Her grip on your hips tightened, thumbs rubbing into the skin; reminding you that the ball was in your court.

You leaned forward and closed the distance.

Ellie’s mind fell blank when your lips pressed against hers. She tried to ground herself—to remember how real this actually was.

It wasn’t a dream.

She melted when you sucked her bottom lip with expertise. Her blood rushed, toes curling at the exhilarating feeling of your mouth claiming her.

The kiss turned hungrier, becoming a mixture of heavy breathing and forceful tugs.

Ellie's mind reeled at this position; the fact that you were in her lap and doing something that she never thought was possible.

Her mind became hazy as her stomach pulled. Then, almost as if she had been slapped back into reality, you broke away, allowing you both to catch your breath.

It was quiet for a few moments as you came to a realization of what just happened.

You felt yourself sobering up, eyes widening in afterthought.

Ellie gazed back, heart hammering as she struggled to think of what to say.

Holy shit.

Oh god.

She opened her mouth before closing it. She opened it once again, closing it seconds later in apprehension. Her hands fell from your waist, allowing you to stand with shaky legs. You blinked in bewilderment, trying to come to your senses. But it was a bit harder than usual after what had just occurred.

"I-" You stopped yourself, exhaling softly.

"We just..."

Her eyes kept zeroing in on your lips. Your soft, gentle lips.

“Come back.” Ellie whispered.

You didn't have to be asked twice.

Without any hesitation, you were grabbing a hold of Ellie’s neck, leaning in for another kiss. It made the position a bit awkward, forcing you to bend down and hover slightly over her. But Ellie didn't mind. She didn't mind this at all…

Ellie relished in the sound of your delicate sighs. She loved the way that you were falling apart in front of her. She clinged to you tightly, pressing you further into her lap, which created the perfect amount of friction. She was determined to not let go. She didn't want to ever let go.

You whimpered, allowing her to guide you as you grinded against her.

Her lips refocused on your neck, biting and licking softly as you cooed. It was becoming harder to breathe, harder to think soundly about everything that was happening. Wine drunk was one thing but this kind of intoxication was unreal. You were completely high off of Ellie.

Your mind reeled at this predicament—at the fact that you were in her lap, getting each other off in the most premature way possible. You felt like an adolescent who was stupidly hormonal with your girlfriend. But you couldn't complain, because it beat daydreaming about Ellie’s hands in your panties.

Your mind became hazy as a pressure in your gut built. Ellie’s hands, and Ellie’s lips, and Ellie’s smell, and Ellie’s breath.

Ellie.

You’re best friend, Ellie.

Your Ellie.

"Okay, I'm back! Sorry about that, I..."

You breath hitched. You pulled away immediately as Rachel stormed into the room. Shit.

Ellie’s hand fell into her lap. She flushed at the sudden interruption, averting her gaze to the floor and cursing Rachel internally. Why did she always appear at the worst times?

"Oh!” Rachel grinned, looking at the both of you with a smug expression. She laughed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Sorry, did I interrupt something?"

Ellie's jaw clenched. She cut her eyes to Rachel irritably, which caused Rachel to become even more amused.

“No,” You replied. “It’s—”

“Should I come back later?” Rachel added. Her grin had widened, voice thick with amusement. She was enjoying this a bit too much.

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Yes. You absolutely should fucking come back late-”

“It’s okay.” Your hands were trembling, an overwhelming sense of doom settling over you at the situation you were now in. “I was just leaving actually.”

“So soon?” Rachel raised an eyebrow. You ignored Ellie’s pressing gaze. “I don’t mind leaving-”

“That’s not necessary.” Your voice was breathy and rushed.

Ellie called your name. You ignored her.

“I’ll see you guys later,” You added.

“Wait, are you sure?” Rachel sounded more alarmed now. “Seriously, I can step ou-”

But you didn't stay to hear any more, rushing out of the bedroom and away from Ellie as quickly as you could.

You didn't want to admit that you’d been avoiding Ellie. In all honesty, you usually were never the type to dismiss awkward situations. You liked to handle them immediately and move on with your life. But that wasn’t what you were doing now.

You spent a few days trying to process it all. You didn't think you were completely oblivious. You may have had your moments, but for the most part you liked to believe that you could pick up on romantic cues. So if you weren't mistaken, it almost seemed as if Ellie was interested in you. But you also weren't sure how to feel about it because the both of you were drinking, and alcohol could make you act like an entirely different person.

A sigh escaped your lips as you stared at your phone, analyzing the text thread between you and Ellie for the nth time today. You missed her.

Going from consistent communication to none was a lot for you to deal with. But you just weren't sure you could handle a conversation with her right now.

You didn't want to do anything to jeopardize the friendship. So, needless to say, you’d been stressed about where the two of you stood.

After a few more agonizing seconds, you finally had the courage to turn your phone off.

You didn't need to be tormenting yourself like this.

Ellie missed you.

She missed your daily good morning messages and infectious laughter. She missed your dry humor and warm hugs.

She knew that she’d have to clear the air about what happened a few days ago. She understood that she shouldn't ignore what happened that night. It was just that she didn't want to talk about this yet. Not now. She wasn't ready.

She was still trying to process it all; how eager you were—the fact that you seemed to want the kiss as much as she did.

But Ellie also had to acknowledge the fact that you both were drunk. Hormones and alcohol can sometimes be the worst combination.

Too many thoughts ran through her mind, leaving her groaning in frustration as she dragged her hands down her face.

She felt an urge to call you; to invite you over for dinner. To hold your hand and joke about whatever predictable soap opera you liked to watch.

But Ellie didn't do that. Instead, she grabbed her songbook and walked over to her guitar, beginning to play a melody on the strings that had been repeating in her head for days.

"Hey."

Your mouth felt dry as you shifted your weight, blinking at Ellie with expectant eyes. Like always, the both of you hugged before stepping back into Ellie’s house.

You slipped off your sandals immediately, arranging them neatly by the coat hanger before shrugging off your purse.

Ellie smiled at the small habit, already feeling her heart constrict despite being in your presence for less than five minutes.

The television was on and playing one of your favorite Soap Operas. It helped relax your nerves. You plopped onto the couch and grabbed a blanket before wrapping it around yourself.

Ellie settled on a nearby cushion, eyebrows furrowing as she tried to think of a way to smoothly approach the conversation. She didn't want to scare you away or make you feel pressured during any of this.

Thankfully, you beat her to it.

You peered at her under your lashes, pleased to see that she was already staring at you. You pulled at your fingers, tangling and untangling them, as you grew the courage to say what was on your mind.

"I don't want to lose you as a friend." You started. Your gaze traveled down to Ellie’s lips, which triggered a distinctive memory of that night. Before your thoughts could get carried away, you blinked and diverted your gaze.

"I don't want that either." Ellie agreed.

"Right..." You nodded, clearing your throat. "Well, I know that we were drunk that night and we both value our friendship, so I'm hoping that we can..." You paused, not wanting to say this.

But there was no other option.

You had to.

"I think we should act like it never happened." Ignoring the way that Ellie stiffened, you shifted your weight. "And I hope we can still be close friends."

It pained you to come to this conclusion, but after debating for a few days, you felt like this was for the best. You didn't want to get your hopes up and ask for something more because what if Ellie didn't feel the same way? So it was better like this. No feelings would be hurt, and there wouldn't be a chance of ruining something great that you two already had.

Blood rushed in your ears as anticipation built up. You couldn't bring yourself to meet Ellie’s gaze, staring at the carpet instead.

"Um..." She hesitated. The silence was heartbreaking. Oh no.

Was she…

"Okay." Ellie’s voice cracked. She bit the inside of her cheek, hoping the ache would replace the one in her chest. She wanted you to speak more, to change your mind—to do something. But that didn’t happen.

You nodded, stunned and unsure of where to go from there.

Instead, Ellie just grumbled, "Fuck. Well..."

You blinked in frustration, already feeling the regret gnawing at your subconscious. “Is that okay with you?”

Ellie’s head snapped back up, eyes boring into yours. “Does it matter? You’ve already said that this is what you want.”

“I-I don’t know. I thought…” Your throat was tightening. “Is it not what you want?”

“I…” Ellie was tugging on her shirt collar, voice thin. Her face was becoming red—eyes swimming. Fuck. She looked like she was going to cry. “Look, I respect your boundaries. Thank you for telling me. I’m comfortable with staying friends.”

A chilling realization was settling within you.

This wasn't the reaction you had anticipated.

This was the opposite.

You may have done more damage than you thought. “Ellie-”

“You're right. We shouldn't complicate things,” She tugged on her collar—harder this time. Your eyes widened at the discolored circular blotches on her neck. How on earth could you forget about any of this when your hickeys marked her skin?

Your jaw clenched, mouth watering at the delicious memory that had been plaguing your mind since Saturday.

“It’ll be like it never happened,” Ellie finished, standing to her feet.

You wanted to say something—to stop her. But the words were caught on your tongue, too heavy to leave your mouth.

Too risky.

Ellie walked out of the living room without saying anything further.

This was going to be harder than you originally thought.

"Shit." Danielle cursed, her features scrunching as she slapped the shot glass back on the table. She shuddered. "That's gross."

You chuckled, swiveling wine in your glass. Personally, You loved the taste of wine. You had champagne a few times as well and didn't mind the aftertaste that it left in your mouth. You believed that it's all about the type of alcohol that you choose. You weren't the type to like hard liquor, so you could understand where your friends' disgust came from. You preferred to keep your taste buds intact while you drank, hence the bottle of red that you ordered.

You were currently at a nightclub, deciding to let loose after a hard week of lectures. You felt a bit stressed. You had a group project that was due soon and you were currently the only one that seemed to be contributing. It had been making you tense and more crabby than usual. Which was exactly why Danielle brought you here.

"...Ellie and her friends showing up?" Danielle asked.

You shrugged. "I thought so. But she was supposed to be here an hour ago."

You also may have been bummed that you hadn't seen your best friend walk through the entrance doors. You’d been waiting all day to see Ellie. Excitement has been building in your gut along with anticipation.

"Hm. Bummer. I was beginning to like your friend." Danielle sighed. "...Was even contemplating asking for her number."

You shoved your jealousy away with a chuckle.

It wasn't your place to say anything.

You told Ellie you wanted to stay friends.

You weren't allowed to be upset.

You busied yourself with people watching. The air loomed with the smell of sweat and smoke.

This was an environment that you grew accustomed to during your early college days. Now that you were in the last year of your college career, you’d shifted to partying at your friends' homes. But you still thought it was nice to go out to a club every once in a while.

There was a specific woman that had been glancing at you for a while now. She was cute with a charming smile. Her eyes were kind, and she always seemed to spare a looks towards you while searching the club. You noticed that the girl was with a group of friends, leaning against the bar with one hand holding a beer and the other tucked in her pocket.

You knew that this woman went to the same university because she was wearing one of the student hoodie's. She was also sporting a pair of dark washed jeans and the sort of combat boots that were loud and clunky; scraping against the ground every time that she shifted her weight.

"That girl keeps staring at you." Danielle announced. "And she's cute."

You smiled, tearing your gaze away.

Yeah, she is.

But where the fuck was Ellie?

Danielle raised her hand, waving in the girl's direction to catch her attention.

Your smile dropped, eyes widening as you reached forward and smacked Danielle's hand away. "What are you doing? Are you kidding?"

"Count this as a favor. You two have been ogling each other all night. Oh, look! She's coming over. You're welcome."

Your jaw set. Then you glanced over your shoulder and noticed that the woman was, in fact, making her way over to you. You glared at Danielle coldly. Well, fuck.

Danielle took no offense, finding the entire situation amusing and laughing instead. "You'll thank me later."

You folded your arms across your chest, huffing. "I highly doubt that I will."

Danielle giggled, covering her mouth with her hand to stop a hiccup. You rolled your eyes in annoyance.

"Hi." A voice interrupted. You looked up, facing the woman who had been staring at you all evening. She had an outstretched hand and a smile. "I'm Julia."

You took her hand, returning the grin and introducing yourself.

"Nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

Julia turned out to be a sweet girl. She was a pre-law student and a year younger than you. She looked extremely pleased when she found out that you attended the same school.

"Do you stay on campus?" You asked.

Julia noded. "I do. And you?"

You shook your head no. "I have my own apartment."

Julia's eyebrows raised at that. "That must be nice. The dorms can be annoying with the partying and all." She made a funny expression.

You laughed. "Yeah, I bet."

The both of you talked about numerous things. During the brief pauses, you tried to ignore the suggestive glances that Danielle would send your way. She was purposely being obvious about her teasing, so it was only a matter of time before Julia would notice.

For the most part though, you surprisingly seemed to be enjoying yourself. There was a short lapse in your mind when you weren't thinking about Ellie—thank god—and just enjoying yourself.

Because of this, you didn't notice Ellie’s arrival. You were too busy laughing at a story that Julia was recounting about your first week of college.

But Ellie saw you immediately.

Ellie felt weird when she observed you laughing with another girl. There was a strong sense of jealousy that was present. Especially when you placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder, throwing your head back slightly and laughing at whatever she was saying.

But she didn't want to be that person, not after the agreement you two made a few days ago, so she tried her best to behave.

"She's over here." Rachel said, pointing in your direction.

Ellie had only brought a few friends, extending the invite after she asked you if it was okay. She ended up being late because Damien lost his dog. How he lost his pet, Ellie would never know, but after thoroughly searching and comforting a sobbing Damien, she found the poor poodle sleeping in the basement diner.

Reluctantly, Ellie made her way over to your table. She really wanted to turn around and go back home, especially after seeing you look so cozy with someone else. But she knew that she couldn't, so she opted for lingering behind her friends instead.

You didn't notice Ellie’s presence at first, and was startled when Rachel surprised you with a hug.

"Long time, no see." Rachel grinned.

You let out a shaky laugh. "You scared me."

"Oh, sorry! We were calling you, but I guess you didn't hear."

Naturally, your gaze fell to everyone else. You said hi to Damien and Nina before peering at Ellie.

"You're here. Finally." You grinned. "What took you so long?"

Ellie noded in acknowledgment, lips holding a ghost of a smile. "We uh-"

"Who's this?" Rachel interrupted, wiggling her eyebrows as she tilted her chin towards Julia. Julia took that as her cue, holding out her hand with a smile. She gave her name, along with a few other pleasantries, to which Rachel nodded impressively.

"You're quite the charmer." Rachel stated.

Julia laughed. "I try."

You stood to your feet, allowing everyone to climb into the booth. You grew anxious when Ellie didn’t join, taking a seat across from you instead.

Disappointed, you sat back down. It was odd to be facing Ellie directly while having Julia by your side.

Almost as if it was an instinct, you found yourself nudging Ellie’s leg. You grazed your foot against the inside of her ankle, leaning forward in hopes to grab her attention. She glanced at you momentarily, eyes softening before hooking your foot with hers.

Hi, you mouthed.

Ellie’s gaze lingered on your mouth, noticing the curve of your lips.

…Your lips.

You were wearing a shimmery lip gloss tonight. The kind that made your smile so beautiful that it physically hurt Ellie everytime she thought about it.

Ellie didn't know what she was expecting tonight. She felt silly for not remembering the previous times you went clubbing with her—you loved dressing up on those kind of nights.

Ellie should have prepared her heart to better withstand your beauty. Because God were you beautiful. You were wearing one of those white summer dresses that hugged you just the right way and a pair of sandals.

Suddenly, she felt silly for being jealous of Julia. Why wouldn't anyone want to be with you? It only made sense.

Ellie was simply gutted that the lucky woman could never be her.

She wanted to scoop you away from here, to leave all of this behind. But she knew that wasn't possible, not after you both established remaining friends. Not after you admitted that you didn't have feelings for her.

"I heard you own some property in New York?" Danielle inquired, pulling Ellie out of her thoughts.

Ellie took this as her opportunity to look away from you, refocusing her gaze on Danielle, who was staring back with curious eyes.

"Um," Ellie racked her thoughts for an acceptable answer, trying—and failing—to erase you out of their mind. "Yeah. I do."

Danielle was scooting dangerously close, sporting a shit-eating grin. "That's nice. I've never been to New York."

You rolled your eyes, gritting your teeth at the interaction.

"Do you want to dance?" Julia interjected.

You diverted your attention, growing hesitant.

You felt guilty for completely forgetting about Julia's presence. There was an impish twinkle in Julia's eyes that nearly caused you to grimace. The guilt multiplied.

"I'm not..." You faltered, voice dropping into a whisper. "Julia, you're a nice person. But I don't think I'm necessary looking to be with anyone toni-"

Julia laughed, "It's just a dance. But it's completely okay if you don't want to."

As if on cue, Danielle laughed obnoxiously loud.

Your pinky twitched. You were struggling to ignore the pressing thought of Ellie and Danielle.

Feeling annoyed and slighted, you nodded, wanting to separate yourself from the table as soon as possible. "As long as it's just a dance." You replied. "Then I'd love to."

Julia grinned.

You felt ridiculous.

Julia was with you on the dance floor and none of it felt as enjoyable as you initially thought it would be. Because Ellie was all you could think about.

Your mouth became dry and the heavy realization of it all threatened to come crashing down any second. So you turned to Julia, stating, "I'm going to get some water and head back to the table." You had to lean in closer than you would have liked, due to the loud music.

"What?" Julia frowned, not hearing you.

"I should head back to the table!" You repeated, jutting your thumb behind you in the direction of your friends.

Julia's features morphed into realization and she nodded. It was almost as if it all dawned on her at that moment that you weren't enjoying herself. "Well, it was nice meeting you." She concluded, with a wink and warm smile, "I think I'll head back over to my friends anyway. Take care of yourself, alright?”

“You too.” You nodded, sighing in relief.

“And you should tell her how you feel,” Julia added.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Who?”

“Your friend…back at the table.” Her head tilted in the general direction of where Ellie was. “The one you can't keep your eyes off of.”

Your breath hitched, hairs standing on the back of your neck at Julia’s exposé. You opened your mouth to reply, but she was already giving you a goodbye hug. Then she shoved past a group of people to make it to her own destination, leaving you alone on the dance floor.

Subconsciously, you walked over to the outside bar, sitting down on one of the stools and ordering a water.

While the bartender grabbed your drink, you tried to allow your muscles to relax in the stillness of the night. Faintly, you could hear the booming bass from the music inside. But besides that, it was far more quiet.

Your eyes stung as memories of tonight's shit show replayed in your mind.

You were kind of mad at Danielle.

In actuality, you knew that you didn't have much of a reason to be upset with her. You hadn't told any of your friends what happened between you and Ellie, or even admitted to them that you had feelings for her. It wasn't Danielle’s fault for not knowing where you stood with it all. It was on you—which made you more frustrated. Danielle was a pretty decent human and would never go after Ellie if she knew how truly you felt. You were just projecting your anger because deep down, you were mad at yourself.

Your reverie was broken when a hand slipped around your waist, lips brushing against your temple and whispering, "Where did that girl go?" It was Ellie.

"What girl?" You asked, playing stupid. You pursed your lips, not bothering to face her.

You didn't want to admit it but you were also upset with Ellie. You couldn't erase the image of Danielle flirting with her out of your mind. It infuriated you.

You and Ellie were just friends, it was something that you both agreed to. Ellie could do whatever she wanted with whoever she wanted. But it still didn't make you any less upset. Because you were jealous, and that's what jealousy did to people sometimes.

"You know who.”

You frowned. "Go back to flirting with Danielle."

There was a hesitancy before she mumbled, "Are you like, upset with me or something?"

You rolled your eyes, guilt and shame and all things bad bubbling up inside of you. "Just go, El."

You knew you were pushing her away—this wasn't fair.

You weren't being fair.

But you needed her to go away before you say something you regret; before you ruin things.

Fingers wrapped around your elbow gingerly, dragging you off the stool and away from the bar. Ellie brought you over to a more discreet section of the patio, away from wandering eyes and eavesdropping bartenders. Once you both were a considerable distance from surrounding people, she let go of you.

With each passing second, her shoulders began to deflate more. She was drinking in your features with worry lines in her forehead. Then she was sighing, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. Her eyes shut momentarily, but she didn't say anything more, hesitant to address the elephant in the room.

You bit the inside of your cheek, tearing your gaze away from her as your mind swarmed with countless apologizes. You should be saying many of them right now. But your tongue stayed planted in your mouth as the hammering of your heart kept you from uttering the words.

When you glanced back at Ellie, you noticed that her eyes had opened.

"Don't do this." She muttered. Her eyes were overwhelmingly vulnerable. "You don't get to do this. Not after saying you wanted to be friends."

I lied, You wanted to reply. I thought you wouldn't feel the same so I got scared. I chickened out. I ran.

But you couldn’t say anything.

Ellie’s shoulders were rising and falling more sporadically as time passed by. It looked as if she was trying to catch her breath, eyes never failing to leave your face. There's a hint of panic in the way that she was observing you…searching for an unknown answer. Her mouth opened—an attempt to break the painful silence that was brewing—before she clamped her lips shut, rolling them inwards.

You watched her step back as she ran her hands through her hair.

“I don't want to play games with you.” She confessed. Her voice sounded unnatural to your ears. Strained. "I deserve better than that."

You shifted your weight, growing uneasy by the way your muscles were screaming to step closer to her. You wanted to tell her about the way your soul yearned for her.

But you were scared.

So fucking scared.

Your mouth betrayed your wish. Instead, they formed to utter, “I understand,” and nothing more.

Ellie swallowed audibly and the lines above her brows deepened. You could hear the instability of her inhales as she looked at you with a question in her gaze.

“That’s all you have to say?”

It was far too devastating to hold her stare. You made yourself look away. “I...”

Ellie inspected you with such intensity that you practically felt your face melting off.

She didn't speak and she didn't move.

The whistle of the wind was the only distraction from the agony nestling inside your heart. Your eyes began to sting, lump lodging in your throat in a way that made it unbearable to speak.

You tried to listen to the chirping of crickets; anything to convince you that staying silent was the better option—the only option.

But then Ellie took a step forward and your resolve cracked instantly. Before you could stop yourself, the smallest sliver of vulnerability urged you to look into her eyes.

She was beginning to notice your inability to hold a proper conversation and took another step closer.

“God, you're so…” This time, she was quieter. “I can never understand you.”

You swallowed thickly. “Ellie…”

She looked down, pressing the heel of her combat boot into the tile floor. In doing so, she rocked her weight backwards and then forward. The motion of unrest caused her cologne to waft towards you.

It'd been a while since you’d seen her so ungathered.

“Listen,” She said. The sound of it vibrated low and powerfully. It sparked a part of your soul to jump. “I lied. I can't just be friends with you.”

You took a step back.

She took another step towards you.

“What?” You faltered.

“You heard me.” Unshed tears pooled into her green eyes. “I’m telling you that I need you. In every sense. Does that hold any significance for you?”

You found interest in the buttons of her tan button up, forcing away the part of yourself that welcomed her confession.

You were struggling to fully understand her. Your hands trembled.

“Will you look at me?” She urged.

You could only bear to keep your gaze on her shirt.

A thumb came in contact with your lower lip. It was a slight graze but managed to leave a trail of fire in its wake. The rest of her fingers soon followed, brushing along your jawline before tucking underneath your chin. She nudged you to lift your head, willing you to peer at her.

She was so painfully close.

“You can't say stuff like that,” Was your response.

“Why can't I?”

Because you were scared. Because you didn't deserve her. Because you had already hurt her—already ruined everything. “Because I’ll want you back. And I can't want you. Because…” You exhaled shakily. “I can't risk the possibility of losing you altogether if this were to end badly.”

Ellie sighed softly, squeezing her eyes shut for a few seconds.

“Our friendship is something I’d never want to ruin. It's safe and it's what we know.” You continued. “Why risk losing you to feelings that I wasn't sure you even reciprocated? How could I live with myself if I ruined everything by telling you how I really felt?”

Ellie’s eyes opened, her cheeks beginning to flush pink. "Oh. That's not..." Her expression had transformed into a mixture of understanding and something strange. “Baby-"

Her other hand managed to find its place at the nape of your neck. Your knees buckled at the pet name.

“You could never lose me.” She added. Her thumb caressed the apples of your cheeks. Those words alone caused you to become completely undone.

You felt like your lungs could finally break open from their cage. Your exhale was heavy, delight crashing into you like tide waves.

It was too wonderful to believe.

“You drive me mad, you know.” Ellie continued, sucking in a breath. “I want you, all of you, everyday. I have never ached to be near anyone so much until I met you. I can accept it if you still want to stay friends after this. If that's truly your wish, then so be it. But I had to tell you. I couldn't let you walk away tonight without letting you know that I’m deeply, desperately, in love with you.” Her lips trembled. “You're so scared about losing me, but have you ever thought that I’ve been feeling the same? I fucking need you.”

Tears began to stream down your cheeks. You soon realized that you were trembling because you were crying.

Without any more reservation, you allowed yourself to grip both of her forearms; mostly to steady yourself but to also have another semblance of closeness to her.

“Tell me again.” Your voice was nothing but a warble. You sniffed, tightening your grip around her forearms in hopes to stay grounded in what seemed like a cruel sweet dream. It didn't matter that you were at a bar, outside of a nightclub that was full of rowdy college students. It didn't matter that your friends were probably wondering where the hell you and Ellie disappeared to. The only thing that matter was Ellie. Your Ellie. “...Tell me that you love me.”

Ellie’s features softened. A tear spilled from her eye, trickling down her cheek. She managed to scan every inch of your face, a slow smile curling onto her lips. “I love you.”

The sound that came out of you was an ugly combination of a sob and laugh.

Ellie swallowed thickly, wetting her lips as she unabashedly looked directly into you. “I’m asking you to give us a try. To give us a real chance.”

All of your doubts crumbled and was replaced with a fiery certainty.

“Ellie, I love you.” Your voice trembled with thick emotion. “Of course I will. I’ve just been so scared, I thought it would be better for us to-”

Before you knew it, Ellie was leaning forward and crashing her lips onto yours.

You sighed at the contact, gripping both sides of her face feverishly. Her chest pressed against yours, causing a gasp to escape you.

Kissing Ellie was effortlessly sweet. She was gentle and passionate, yet able to exhibit incredible vigor that made your stomach flutter. Her hands traveled away from your cheeks, bunching into the material of your dress and holding you with immense regard.

And just when you felt as if you were about to burst, she became agonizingly tender. Your mind buzzed at the feeling of her lips; it was like floating weightlessly in water. You longed to give her more of you; even though it couldn't be possible to give her any more than what she already had.

Then she pulled away. You noticed that you two had quickly fell into a rhythm of panting, catching your breath from the sublime moment that you had just shared.

Ellie wiped your last few tears and kissed you again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again.

Until you knew for certain in your heart, that there was no other place in the universe that you were meant to be.

#au writing #fanfic #ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #ellie x reader #ellie x you #tlou2 fanfic #ellie tlou2 #college #piscespetals writing #ruin the friendship #friends to eventual lovers #besties #fluff #light angst #gayyyyyy #mutual pining

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dittanyinbloom · 1 year

Text

Study Habits

A continuation of Note Taking.

Ominis Gaunt x fem!MC, no specific house, 2.5k, fluff, Sorry to put Sebastian through this. Suppose he has you all to blame for wanting a part two.

.🪶📜🪶

To say your head was in the clouds would be a giant understatement.

Class was a complete blur after that. Ominis had kept to himself and fallen asleep as though nothing had gone on. You remained alert, not able to shake the phantom feeling of a hand squeezing above your knee. Four digits digging into your flesh, almost possessively while his thumb swiped back and forth. How he managed to be demanding while remaining breathtakingly gentle, you would never know. The things it made you feel were obscene, and in public no less!

You’d followed him like a puppy after class, though, that was no different than other days. This time you noticed your attentiveness, neediness, but despite how embarrassed and overwhelmed you felt, you couldn’t help but follow at his heels until you were forced to part ways for your last classes.

“Sebastian is going to want to see those notes in the library later,” he called over his shoulder on his way to Arithmacy.

You weren’t planning on showing. How could you, knowing what you know now? Spending the evening hiding under your covers wouldn’t be so bad. Or perhaps you could sneak out to the Forbidden Forest again and take out some of your nerves on an unsuspecting acromantula.

But by the end of your last class, you were entertaining the idea of going to the library. If you showed up late enough, Ominis would have given up and left for the Slytherin common room long before your arrival. Sebastian alone was something you could handle, and then he could report back to Ominis about how completely normal you seemed, how unbothered you were, aloof, nonchalant! All of the totally calm and not at all flustered words.

While your mind was planning the excuse for your fashionably late show, your muscles were working on instinct and memory. Just as you were coming to, you had already begun your ascent up the staircase to the second floor of the library. Classes had just ended, meaning you had gone straight there. You stopped with three steps left to go, realizing your mistake. In your defense, your mind was still a foggy mess. All the scenarios you had been playing out to prepare yourself were displayed through a gray haze of confusion. And if you dwelled on it too much, your train of thought fell off its tracks and started replaying that damned moment in class.

“What do you think you are doing, Mrs. Gaunt?”

Oh, why did he have to say it in that reprimanding tone? The one he always had whenever Sebastian, and by proxy, you were getting into things you were not supposed to. The way his voice echoed in the Undercroft when he got angry always made your knees feel weak. You were known for being quick to agree with him, too. Sebastian teased you for it relentlessly.

“If he told you to jump, you’d ask how high.”

“Shut it, Sallow.”

“You got here fast!” Sebastian commented when he finally looked up from his book. He was reading, of course, and like always it wasn’t something in the Hogwarts curriculum. Books seemed to be his escape from the scary thoughts swirling around in his head. You couldn’t judge. It was a much safer option compared to how you intended to battle a swarm of spiders to rid yourself of inappropriate thoughts.

Seeing Sebastian alone was usually a red flag for disastrous outcomes, but today you welcomed his solitude and took a seat across from him at the table he claimed nearly every day. Maybe you could leave before Ominis showed. Your plan to avoid him was still full steam ahead, it seemed.

“Yes, just wanted to drop off the notes for you. I have to meet with. .,” Quick! Think of something! “-Professor Fig!”

“Uncovering more of that ancient magic mystery?” Sebastian presumed.

“Precisely.” You took out your roll of parchment and handed it over. Today, you had been far too embarrassed to make any unnecessary doodles, so you had no qualms about Sebastian just copying the work himself.

“I can’t wait to hear about it. Much more exciting than History of-,” Sebastian cut out the moment he unrolled the parchment.

Amidst all the urgency of planning your timely escape, you forgot about the exact reason you wanted to leave. Ominis’s hand on your thigh, insistent that you cross out your last name and correct yourself. And you had done it too, almost as obedient as one would be under the imperius curse. Then, you had spent the rest of the period wishing you hadn’t listened so quickly, because as soon as your name was crossed out and his written diligently in its place, his hand was gone from your thigh. Every second of the last two hours you spent fighting the urge to replay the moment in your head. It had been futile, of course. Ancient Runes was terribly boring in comparison to your imagination. You craved to experience that feeling again, how his skin over his knuckles went taunt while grabbing you, how the fabric around your thigh bunched as he swiped his thumb, how your heart threatened to leap out of your chest.

“MC Gaunt? Surely my best friends wouldn’t have run off and gotten married without me.” Sebastian raised an eyebrow. The corner of his mouth twitched in an attempt to refrain from smirking, but you could see the gleam in his eyes. Mischief was brewing.

In a flurry, you took the parchment back from the boy and began to roll it up, insisting, “You didn’t see that.”

“What are you going to do? Obliviate me? What’s done is done. At least let me copy down the notes. Don’t worry, I’ll write my own name on mine.”

“Sebastian. .,” you hoped the use of his first name and the desperate look in your eyes would make him at the very least pity you. It backfired pathetically. Knowing how embarrassed you were only seemed to add fuel to his flame, and Sebastian was always itching to burn things.

“Is this why you were being odd the other day and reading them out?”

“I-“

“Are all of your history notes like this?”

No, most of them were worse. A thousand times worse. You would melt into a puddle if he saw some of the things you wrote.

“No! Now, if you want to borrow them, you’ll let this go.”

Sebastian crossed his fingers over his chest, promising, “Don’t worry, this stays between us. Anyway, it’s been a while since you’ve been in my debt.”

“Good, now, if you’ll excuse me, Natty is waiting-“

“Thought it was Fig?” Sebastian snorted. “You really ought to study the art of deception. Dunno how you managed all the loyalist and ashwinder nonsense this far without it.”

“Think you are deceptive enough for the three of us, Sebastian,” Ominis declared as he finished the spiral staircase. “Sorry that I’m late. What have I missed?”

“Just Ranrok and Rookwood talk. The usual,” Sebastian said smoothly, shrugging for good measure before sending you a wink.

“Well then, I am not sorry,” Ominis corrected as he took a seat and then patted the chair beside him. “Have a seat, and let’s get started. I hear this goblin rebellion in particular has innovative war tactics.”

You fell into the chair beside him, avoiding the amused look on Sebastian’s face. “I already gave Sallow my notes to copy, but that Transfiguration essay is due tomorrow. Mine could use another read-through.”

“Thought you had to go meet up with, who was it. . Garreth?” He might be keeping your secret, but Sebastian could still have a bit of fun.

Ominis’s nose scrunched in disgust. “What are you meeting Weasley for?”

“I’m not.”

“Good. He is only trouble, and you get into enough of that without him singeing off your eyebrows.”

Jumping at every opportunity to heighten the insanity of this conversation, Sebastian chimed in, “How do you know he hasn’t already singed one off? MC is looking quite ridiculous as of late.”

Ominis frowned and reached out for you. The back of his fingers lightly grazed your warm cheeks before he found confidence in his placement and held the side of your face. His thumb swiped over one of your eyebrows before moving his fingers along the other to find them both intact. “Merlin, Sebastian. Don’t lie to me like that. I had half a mind to hunt Weasley down and hex him to next week.”

“What can I say?” Sebastian leaned back in his chair to stretch. “I’m a world-class jester.”

“Class isn’t a word I would use to describe you,” you quipped.

“Funny coming from somebody who is no-showing Weasley right now.”

“Enough, both of you.” Ominis put his hand on your thigh as if it was a warning. “Less bantering and more studying. I would like to pass at least a few O.W.L.s.”

What surprised you even more than the warm hand enveloping your thigh was the awkward cough across from you. The table may have been blocking his view, but Sebastian could follow the line of sight and make an educated guess on where Ominis had placed his hand. Suddenly his freckled cheeks were turning a deep shade of pink, matching exactly how you felt.

Lucky for both of your sakes, Ominis retracted his hand to open up his textbook, seemingly not picking up on his best friend's discomfort. He quickly got lost in his essay with a soft frown forming before admitting, “I hate Transfiguration. Do you know what Professor Weasley said the other day about my teacup? That I have to envision it. Merlin, felt like an eternity of silence before she realized her mistake. Then afterward she said I don’t have to practice it if I write two extra inches. Basically, I’m being punished for her inability to think before she speaks.”

“That’s awful. She’s given me four extra inches and three detentions for no good reason,” Sebastian whined.

“You transfigured Leander into a bird,” Ominis deadpanned.

“Yeah? And? He deserved it. Weasley only punished me because she favors the Gryffindors.”

“Leander shit on my desk,” you recalled, “It was disgusting. I think the detentions are well deserved.”

“I’m not the one who shit in your desk.”

“No, but you’re the one who turned him into a bird.”

“Surprised you even noticed the bird in the first place with all your tedious note taking.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from muttering under your breath, “Bastard.”

Ominis raised his eyebrows. You and Sebastian were often bickering, but you rarely ever used such a malicious tone. “I don’t have to separate you two, do I?”

“You might need to if your wife keeps trying to set me on fire with her eyes.”

Oh, how you wanted to tear him to shreds. In fact, your body twitched, reaching for your wand. Ominis felt you jerk beside him and skillfully grabbed your forearm just in time. His voice was tender, but he was still chastising you, “Come now, you know we don’t hex outside of the Undercroft. Besides, it’s just Sebastian. He merely enjoys riling people up. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”

“Fine,” you agreed bitterly and set your wand on the table with a loud click, making sure to have it point toward Sebastian so he knew he was on thin fucking ice.

You had expected Ominis to release you after agreeing to his terms, but his hold lingered. The pads of his fingers shifted until they found the pulse in your wrist. Knowing your heart rate must seem alarmingly high to him only made you more nervous. Then his hand trailed up to your hand. Fingers lacing with your own.

“You stopped breathing. Are you okay?” There was a genuine look of concern across his features. It reminded you of how he doted over you in the Scriptorum. You felt awful for making him worry, but your mouth couldn’t exactly form words at the moment. He squeezed your hand gently, offering comfort.

“Merlin, Ominis, she looks like she’s about to keel over. Maybe try asking a girl before you hold her hand,” Sebastian chastised.

“Oh,” his defeated tone as he released you made you swoon. He hadn’t wanted to let go. “I’m sorry. How rude of me.”

“Nearly killed her,” Sebastian said with a chuckle.

“It’s okay!” You insisted.

Ominis frowned. “I just thought since. . . Sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“It’s okay, really. There’s no need to ask. Don’t listen to Sebastian.”

The culprit snorted across the table, mumbling to himself, “Yeah, do go around taking my word for it, I’m just the one being forced to witness you having a stroke.”

Your wand snatched your wand from the table. “Shut it, Sallow.”

“You’d risk detention with Scribner for me?” His heart flew over his chest. “Mrs. Gaunt, I’m flattered.”

Ominis sighed heavily, now understanding the true root of the tension between you and Sebastian. “So, you know about how she’s taken my name.”

Your mouth fell open in shock at how casually Ominis stated such a thing. He had made it sound as though you were officially married. Taken his name, Merlin. Sebastian grinned maniacally and leaned forward with his elbows on the table as if ready to hear the latest Hogwarts gossip.

“Oh, you already know about her notes? Intriguing. How long have you known?”

Now it was Ominis’s turn to turn pink as he admitted, “A couple of months, I suppose.”

You covered your face with your hands, mumbling into them, “Sallow, you promised you wouldn’t tell.”

“I didn’t tell! Ominis brought it up.”

“After you called me Mrs. Gaunt!”

“Is that not the name you go by? Because your history notes say otherwise.”

“There is no need to be embarrassed by it,” Ominis promised, holding his palm upright for you to take.

Which you did, greedily and without coaxing. This second time around you were prepared for the sensation and were able to keep a level head. Well, perhaps level wasn’t the right word since you were shaking to the point of vibration. This time, you wanted to prove that you were okay with his touches. You planned on swiping your thumb across the back of his hand or you humming in content when you squeezed him.

Ominis did not let you get that far. As soon as your fingers interlocked with his, he was pulling your hand to his lips and leaving just a feather of a kiss against you.

“And that’s my cue.” Sebastian’s chair ground against the poor flooring with fever as he stood, collecting his things. “You two have managed to soil my favorite spot in the library. Cheers.”

“Am I not allowed to cherish my wife in public?” Ominis questioned with a devilish smile. Your stomach was doing flips.

“Just snog in the privacy of the Undercroft like normal human beings, and for the love of Merlin, send me an owl first so I know not to be there.”

a link to the final part

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #my writings

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nqmonarch · 3 months

Note

hihi! I want to say that I really LOVE the way you write Blade <33 and also what do you think about Blade with a reader who was part of the hcq in the past being reincarnated and joining the stellaron hunters in the present timeline but they don't remember anything from their past such as being Yingxing's lover

Yeah! Of course :) Didn't know if you wanted Yandere Blade or normal Blade assuming the former because it's the only Blade, it's not anything hardcore tho, I've written so far but let me know if this doesn't suit you, and I'll try again :)

Warning: High Cloud Quintet Spoilers,

TW: Kidnapping, Yandere

Note: Reader is a vidyadhara (think that makes the most sense in terms of reincarnation)

You knew everyone fairly well but you knew Yingxing the best. The two of you spending evenings next to each other in the same bed and days by each other's side. You weren't much of a fighter but he made you a weapon nonetheless and you carried it everywhere.

You would laugh as you saw Jing Yuan and Yingxing train while Jingliu would make them run laps every time they messed up their stance. You would stare at the skies with Baiheng and speak about worlds you'd only heard of in stories. Dan Feng was the one you knew the least but as everyone else became rowdy the two of you would stand in silence, both of you smiling with equal understanding of each other.

Then Shuhu, an emanator of abundance, attacked and those happy moments drifted off as dandelion seeds in the wind. You focused on evacuating citizens, fighting off mara struck with the knowledge you'd gained from watching Yingxing train. Your eyes were always on his body. Jing Yuan had been with you initially, the two of you had been talking about what to do for Yingxing's birthday. Beneath Jing Yuan's aloof exterior there was still a child, he was young after all.

You weren't sure where everyone else was but you only hoped they'd be okay.

Baiheng died. Dan Feng and Yingxing committed a sin, which would lead to both of them being banished. Jingliu returned but was struggling with mara. Jing Yuan was left to deal with the consequences as you left. You couldn't leave your lover on your own could you?

So you followed the mess that Yingxing was, making sure he never got hurt too much, trying to keep him safe. He didn't look the same, white hair turned to a blueish black and cool gray eyes turned a burning hot red. You still loved him, he didn't remember you, and whenever he did it was followed by a bout of pain. Part of you didn't want him to remember, if it was that terrible.

For the majority of the time you stayed by his side he was in and out of it, struggling to even move at points. You weren't around to see when he was able to fight time and again, when he went and hunted after Dan Heng, and how every time he was slain he came back stronger anew.

You had to leave, otherwise you likely would've died. You did it while he slept, otherwise he would've realized and maybe you would've felt too guilty to leave. But you had to go through the rebirth process. You left behind a journal for yourself to read and so you would go back to Yingxing but you never got the chance. After all if anyone else read it, why would they want a Vidyadhara leaving and risking their life, when population numbers already dwindled? Especially if they were risking their life for someone who almost ruined everything.

You were told you took a hundred extra years to hatch. You learned everything anew, deciding to pick up a weapon, it felt comfortable in your hands. Sometimes you'd dream of fighting mara struck off with it, sometimes the weapon was idly by your side as you felt joy course through dream you's body as you spoke to a friendly white haired male.

The thing was throughout a hundred years of living you'd never found a reason to live. The only thing you longed for were your dreams. You'd heard of a land called Penacony, where you could live in your dreams, and you'd smuggled your way in but it wasn't what you thought. You wanted to live in your memories, not some idealistic world. So you wandered planet from planet in search of something, anything. Your only purpose became finding a reason to live.

Everything changed when a woman called Kafka recruited you, she was all smiles and charm, and promised you the thing you were looking for. You'd been skeptical and challenged her but when she elaborated that you'd be able to live within your memories, you decided to join her. Whether Elio's plan worked out or not mattered naught to you, so long as you were able to live in your memories again.

Your dreams got fuzzier harder to reach with time, as if your past life was slipping away from you. This wasn't supposed to happen. But things improved slightly when a man with long navy blue hair eagerly joined the Stellaron Hunters. He looked at you with a strange longing gaze, it was honestly rather pathetic. Pathetic looked good on him though, well he looked good in general.

"Blade," Your voice held no extra emotion to it as he walked over to you, he felt strangely familiar, as if existing by his side wouldn't be that bad.

So you hung around him often, you weren't sure why he hung around you but he didn't speak much to you. It wasn't that there was nothing to say but too much to say, to the point he couldn't say anything. Instead he often clung onto you like you were his lifeline, in bouts of mara, his grip hurt but it wasn't the worst pain you'd experienced. Being a Stellaron Hunter meant you'd faced your fair share of fights. Now that Blade was here, you got hurt less and less, he'd tank blows for you and annihilate whoever you were against. There were always large stains of blood left in the place of your battles but you never got dirty.

You wondered what he would do if you died, go insane? From the little sanity he had left, "What would you do if I died?" You asked a slight smile on your face before returning to your usual silence.

You didn't have a moment to speak before you felt your back crash against the cold, hard floor knocking the air out of you. Normally you'd be able to keep up with Blade while sparring, although you doubted he had the heart to go all out against you. Now he gripped your biceps with no regard for your feelings, yet, it only lasted a few seconds as he loosened his hold to remove the pain yet keep you still. His knees rested next to your hips, and you could feel the heat of his skin through your clothes.

"...You don't like that question?" You spoke with a grin on your face, was he really so attached to you?

Hot red eyes glared at you, as if you'd just committed a sin, "No. You... don't understand anything now. You... you've done far more than you should've." He forced himself to let go of your arms, standing up and walking away as stiff as a board. It was as if the very process was agonizing.

You stared at his back in puzzlement, "...Blade did you know me?"

He didn't answer.

Which led to your turn to chase Blade, always a step behind. When you weren't following him, you knew he was nearby, somewhere you couldn't see him. You could feel his gaze rest on your head, it felt very unique. You'd beg Blade for any clue about your past but he would remain quiet, as if ignoring you. He'd still step into all of your fights, blade itching to be used.

You only made progress on the mission where you'd been ordered to go to the Xianzhou Luofu, as someone who'd been raised there you happily snuck along even if it wasn't your mission. You were sure Elio knew anyway. Blade was on his own mission and for once you were alone. On the Luofu you met a man that gave you the same familiar feeling as Blade, a young fellow by the name of Dan Heng. He didn't recognize you at all though, so you assumed you didn't know him. He was the only one to catch a glimpse of your face without your cloak.

You traveled with him, Luocha, and Sushang for fun before dashing off to the streets, cloak covering any distinguishable part of your body, to buy some snacks. You ran into a short dragon girl, who felt somewhat familiar, but you doubted you knew her too. But then there was the general of the Luofu, a well spoken man, who put on the appearance of a slacker.

Did he sleep because he could no longer stand life? He felt familiar as well but you also empathized with him and that was why you went up to talk him. Putting on the act of a fortune teller, you saw a hint of recognition when he heard your voice. He agreed to let his fortune be read, and you did so staring at him for any other hint of your past. He looked at you very sorrowfully.

You weren't sure what compelled you to say it but you shared some thoughts with him, "I sleep a lot too," you suddenly remarked, uncaring that it gave away you having watched over him for a while, "Less now. But in the past the only place I could live was my dreams, memories of my past life. I yearn for them, dearly."

The general looked at you his smile waning, "Then perhaps one day we can discuss them." So he did know you. Who... exactly were you in the past? How did you find so much happiness, in the simplest things? How could you do that now?

But the two of you were never able to discuss that as the final act of Blade and Kafka's plan came into fruition you found yourself between a mournful Jing Yuan and Blade, who'd reappeared. You didn't mind Blade's company, he just got in the way sometimes.

Especially when he was holding the blade of his sword to the only person who'd been willing to help you recover your past. Jing Yuan didn't put up a fight, it was rather strange, instead he spoke in a wistful tone, "The two of you found each other again." Perhaps you'd been closer to Blade in your past life than you thought.

You'd unceremoniously been brought back to the ship the Stellaron Hunters were currently using. It was not by choice. Blade held you in his arms as you kicked and bit and scratched. He didn't mind in the slightest. He may have even liked it which dissuaded you a bit from continuing. You didn't scream, he'd probably kill any bystanders who cared anyway.

It was annoying. Even once you were back on the ship he was always by your side, literally. One part of his body had to be touching yours at all times, otherwise he'd begin to panic.

"...Tell me about my past." You demanded, glaring at him, concerningly more upset over this matter than him kidnapping you and his constant clinginess.

"Of six people, three must pay the price... why did you waste your time caring for someone like me? You love me..." then in a pitiful voice, seeking for confirmation he asked, "right?"

You looked at the mess of the man before you, had you loved him in your previous life? If so, then wasn't he part of your happiness... So you'd have to learn to love him again, "Right," You lied with a smile, resting a hand on his back as he embraced you burying his face in your neck.

The moment Blade couldn't see your face the smile dropped from it.

Imo Blade would hide his own sinful past and actions from the reader and not want them to have to embark down the road of pain, since he knows how terrible it is.

Reader is also lowkey a two faced person, don't know how much you guys noticed, but they put on one of those facades but inside they're like i'm dying inside yay... ._. i like two faced characters :) they're so fun to read in stories, haven't really written one before though

I honestly think reader is more unhealthy than Blade like yeah he's kind of obsessed with you but at the same time reader just concerning like highly fucking concerning. Did not mean for reader to be so concerning just happened.

Anyway as much as I love like that I waited 800 years for you troupe! I'm not a big fan of it, personally, with Blade's character just because he's a very big red flag for a relationship even as a non yandere. Being in love with someone from the past can turn out good but I feel like with Blade it would turn out so horribly and he would just see a memory as opposed to the past, present, and future of the reader.

I like the idea of him falling in love with someone while he's Blade because Blade feels like a very different person from Yingxing.

That being said the idea of reincarnated lovers always has its own kind of charm :)

#TW Yandere #reader insert #hsr #hsr x reader #gn reader #blade x reader #yandere blade #yandere blade x reader

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strwbrrymlkjh · 11 months

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I can't say 'hello' to you and risk another goodbye

alhaitham x gn! reader

it was a casual day of strolling through the city looking for a gift for cyno and you never thought you would bump into someone you have avoided for a long time.

a/n: angst, hopeful ending, maybe OOC Alhaitham, title from 'i almost do' by taylor swift

wc: 2.5k

AO3

Every year on June twenty-third, you and your friends gather to celebrate Cyno’s birthday. And with birthdays comes gifts. You were not able to attend his celebration for the previous year so you were trying to make it up to him this year by giving him something special. It was a casual day of strolling through the city looking for the most appropriate gift and the last thing you thought would happen was you bumping into someone you have avoided for a long time.

As it turns out, listing off TCG card shops inside your head was not a very good idea as you will be too preoccupied to notice the the tall figure standing in your way, too immersed in his own world as well.

It all happened so fast. One second you were walking and the next, a strong hand is holding your forearm to prevent you from falling face first on the sidewalk and embarrassing yourself in front of countless people. You are about to apologize for not looking at where you are going and having your head in the clouds but your words get caught in your throat once you take a good look at your savior.

Standing in front of you with the same towering height, serious and calculating eyes and extremely familiar soundproof earpieces is your former boyfriend Alhaitham. Scanning him from head to toe, you think that you might fall again despite his strong grip on your arm. You will gladly do so and let the earth swallow you from where you lay if it means saving yourself from interacting with him.

You are convinced that the universe is out to get you as Alhaitham slowly and carefully lets go of your arm and removes the device covering his ears.

"Are you hurt?” He asked while placing the earpieces on his neck. You shook your head no as you brushed off the imaginary dust on your pants. The feeling of his touch lingers on your arm.

"I should ask you the same thing. I was not really looking at where I am going so it was my fault for bumping into you. Sorry.” You responded sheepishly while staring at the tiles that adorned the street.

"I’m fine.” Still a man of few words, you taught.

You finally had the courage to steal a glance from him only to find that he was already staring at you. Averting your gaze as quickly as possible, you started thinking of ways to flee. You wanted this meeting to end as soon as possible, to run as fast and as far away from here as you can, but you couldn’t. It was as if your feet were glued to the floor as you tried to make up excuses in your head.

Oh, that’s it. You should just tell him that you were looking for a gift for someone.

"Uhm, I should -” you started.

"Are you here to buy something for Cyno?”

You stopped in your tracks. Ah, yes. Cyno is one of your mutual friends.

You almost forgot about that fact as it has been a year since you last spent time with Alhaitham. Twelve months of radio silence and actively going out of your way to avoid him. Anyone would think that you two had a bad breakup. If only that was what really happened.

You have been captivated by Alhaitham the first time you saw him when you were children. As a child, you did not understand why but he was the first and only person that made your heart beat so fast you could feel it on your tongue.

Confessing your feelings for him was a spur-of-the-moment decision. He just looked so beautiful that day silently standing beside you as you wait for your fellow scholars at Pardis Dhyai. His turquoise eyes glowing in the sunlight, gray hair dancing in the wind. You would not have been able to stop yourself from telling him that you like him even if you wanted to. To your disbelief, the aloof and stoic man agreed to go out with you.

Everything was going well at first. You were trying to get to know him on a different level - memorize his quirks, the things that make him tick. All your friends are happy for you both. But soon enough, the consequences of entering something without giving it much thought caught up to you.

You were hoping for a change in him once you became his significant other. Maybe a little more affection and communication. Instead, you felt alone in the relationship - always the only one to remember the important details about the other, always the only one initiating and planning dates.

You did not want him to change. You just wanted him to make you feel that he wanted you too. That he wanted to stay in this relationship with you.

At some point, you felt that you were burdening him with your presence, that you were disrupting his life. You start drowning yourself in what-ifs, your insecurities like fire gnawing at your stomach. Maybe he really is not the one for you, that there is someone out there for him. Someone you could never be; a person kinder and better than you. Better for him.

Ending what you had was not something you thought would happen but thinking about prolonging the agony for the both of you was more than enough reason to call it quits. So you did. And just like when you two got together, he simply nodded his head and agreed to break up with you.

You knew that being in his presence, even as friends, would only make you fall harder than ever before. You were trying so hard not to regret your decision so you decided to keep your distance. No speaking to each other, no stealing glances. You even refused to be in the same room as him until you have completely moved on.

In the past year where the both of you did not have a single significant interaction, you were confident that any trace of affection for him has completely disappeared. You thought you would be able to look at him without feeling any pain or regret.

That was not the case, it seems.

You were back to square one, feeling exactly the same way you felt that day you confessed to him. You wanted to reach out and wrap your arms around his waist, card your fingers through his hair, stare into those eyes and get lost in them. But you know you can’t do those things anymore.

You noticed that he was still waiting for your answer so you nodded, not trusting your words.

"I should get going.” You whispered, not wanting to spend another second in his presence lest you cry and confess your feelings for the second time.

It was rude to just leave him there without saying a proper goodbye but your tears were threatening to spill from your eyes so you just gave him a nod and without waiting for his reply, turned around and began walking away.

A quick escape is what you were expecting. What you were not expecting was nearly jumping out of your skin when his large hand made contact with your wrist and pulled you back to where you were standing seconds ago.

You stared at him with wide eyes, and judging by the look on his face, he was also shocked by what he had done. It took him a few more moments to get out of whatever trance he was in and he quickly released your hand.

“Uhm.” You did not know what else to say. Even after all this time, Alhaitham still has that effect on you.<

"I need your help,” He said. You looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to elaborate.

Noticing this, he added, “I have not chosen a gift for Cyno yet.”

Ohh

“Is it alright if I come with you?”

Everything in you was screaming to say no and walk away just as you planned. But you know you can never refuse this man, another thing that remains a fact even if you are not together anymore.

“Sure. No problem.” You responded in a small voice. You are convinced that your mind is playing tricks on you when you see a small smile grace his handsome face. His smiles were rare, after all.

“I was planning on buying something from there.” You pointed to a nearby trinket shop with TCG card banners hanging at the front.

“Lead the way.” He pushed the glass door and let you step inside first before trailing behind you. Your eyes scanned the objects on the display shelves and you felt the tears pricking your eyes once again.

“Alhaitham.” you called out his name which caught his attention. Saying it out loud felt foreign to your tongue after a long time of only whispering it in your head. The man turned around and stared at you.

“I’m going to look for TCG cards over there.” You pointed at the back of the shop. He kept his gaze on you for a few seconds before nodding his head.

You wiped the stray tears that escaped from your eyes while looking at the cards. You were not in your right mind to pick anything decent so you made it your goal to agree on the first thing that Alhaitham picks and leave like you originally planned to. You can always come back here before Cyno’s birthday anyway.

You lingered for a few more minutes, giving Alhaitham enough time to pick something. It was then that you noticed a shelf displaying preserved flowers in glass encasements. One particular flower caught your eye, a Padisarah.

It looked so beautiful inside the glass encasement, as if suspended in time. You smiled at the thought. If only you could have frozen time that day you confessed to Alhaitham, when the only thing you can feel is the overwhelming love you have for him. Maybe you would not feel as if a part of you was missing. Maybe then you would not have to spend sleepless nights being a prisoner of your thoughts, dissecting every interaction with him, trying to find some sort of signal that he likes you as much as you like him. Until now, it was almost impossible to tell how he feels about you.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you failed to notice Alhaitham’s presence behind you.

“Have you found something?” You were startled as you suddenly heard his deep voice. He has caught you staring so intently at the flowers that he can’t help but examine it too.

You needed to get out of here. “I have to go. Kaveh told me he needs help with things.” was your lame excuse.

Alhaitham looked like he was about to say something. Instead he kept his mouth shut and nodded his head with an indescribable look on his face. You felt bad for lying but you did not want to break down inside the store in front of him.

“I’m sorry. Maybe you’ll find something here.” You headed straight for the shop’s doors. You have no idea where you are headed but you really just want some place where you can let your tears out.

You have always been an emotional person. It was one of the key differences between you and Alhaitham. Despite this, he has been very patient with you - always accompanying you to wherever you wanted to go, helping you with the lessons that you found difficult to understand, silently listening to your rants after a bad day. The memory made you realize that he showed his affection for you in his own ways.

Maybe he was not lacking, you were simply not content.

You have not made it to your car when the unshed tears started escaping and soon enough, you were bawling your eyes out. For the first time since you convinced yourself that you have moved on, you allowed yourself to cry.

You were sitting on the curb trying to control your breathing when you heard a familiar voice call out your name. Lifting your head, you saw a disheveled Alhaitham holding a paper bag with the logo of the shop where you left him.

You did not have time to wipe your tears away when he suddenly bent down and wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on the top of your head.

I am so sorry,” the man whispered, his hold around you tightening. You were too shocked to even say a word. What is going on?

“I know I am the last person you want to see but I need you to know that I am so sorry for not saying anything and letting you walk away. I should have - “ his voice cracked.

“I should have said something.” he rested his head on your shoulder. You, still at a loss for words, became acutely aware of the close proximity of your faces. At this angle, you could see how tightly he has his eyes closed, as if stopping tears that are threatening to spill.

In a hoarse and broken voice, he continued, “Everyday, in a sea of faces, I find myself looking for yours. I missed you so much. You have no idea.”

You placed your hand on his cheeks urging him to pull back and allow you to properly look at him. It was the first time that you have seen him with this distraught and worried look on his handsome face.

He lifted the paper bag on the floor behind you and presented it to you. You opened the bag and the content was not something you were expecting. It was the preserved Padisarah you were staring at earlier.

You did not know what to say. You did not know what this meant. You looked at Alhaitham, hoping he has the answers to your unsaid questions.

“I thought you were shopping for Cyno.”

“I wasn't,” he admitted. Then closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if preparing himself for something. “I had no idea how to keep you from leaving and it was the only excuse I could come up with.”

"Please accept it. I will not inconvenience you any longer.” Your eyes widened at his words. He took your silence as a sign that you did not want anything to do with him. He started getting up and walking away but you were still frozen in your place.

You were hesitating, still in the prison of what-ifs you made for yourself. Between the both of you, Alhaitham was never the emotional one but he had been very honest with his feelings today and it was only fair for you to reciprocate. This was the second chance that you did not know you had been waiting for and you’ll be damned if you let it slip away.

Wiping your eyes, you stared at the flower as you placed it back carefully inside the bag before chasing after the man you’ve loved for so long that you can’t imagine ever loving someone else again.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #alhaitham #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham angst #i wrote this instead of sleeping #getting back together #hopeful ending #genshin x reader #genshin #alhaitham x y/n #genshin impact alhaitham #genshin imagines #genshin fanfic #genshin alhaitham #tags are hard

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toasteaa · 1 year

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HI TOAST 🩷

please indulge me and tell me about how your faves enjoy kissing hehe 🎤

GRAY!!! 💕 I'm so sorry my indulgences are coming late, life hit me so hard last weekend 😭 BUT I'M BACK AND And I think I might have too many faves but we will make them fit hehe

Kaeya enjoys unexpected kisses - whether they're given to you or to him. He's not the best with setting a scene up for romance and, while his flirty tone and general aloofness may say otherwise, always tends to get a little flustered when he thinks about kissing you too much. So he settles for greeting you with a kiss to your temple or your hand; there's always a chilled chuckle after he places a kiss on your neck or shoulder when he sneaks up on you. Of course, you're not the best at sneaking up on him so...you don't get to surprise him as often as he surprises you with kisses. But his guard is significantly lower when he's around you...maybe you can catch him while he's rambling?

Diluc is both like his brother in terms of getting flustered over kisses and unlike his brother in terms of being direct about his kisses. He's someone that is very direct about his wants, but worries about forcing them onto with how direct and blunt he can be. Because of that, he's much more likely to press kisses against the back of your hands, your palms, and your forehead. He's also less likely to kiss you in public, favoring more intimate and private atmospheres where he can show more hm...vulnerable sides of himself. Greatly enjoys climbing into bed with (or after) you and feeling you stir against him. There's only a hint of guilt that flares in him for disturbing you if you were already asleep, but it's always quelled when you immediately reach for him to give him a sleepy kiss in greeting. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't one of his favorite things to come back home to.

Xiao is...how do I put this...unfamiliar with kisses. He's spent the bulk of his existence avoiding most people and dedicating himself to protecting Liyue from a distance; he hasn't exactly had the time to stop and try kissing, well, anyone. So when he does try to kiss you, it's a pretty rough and crude reenactment of kisses he's observed from a distance. So you often have to take the initiative with him and gently guide him to how you'd prefer he'd kiss you. It takes awhile, but he gets it eventually and has given you a few, more delicate kisses, but never too many out of fear he might hurt you. If he was a bit more honest with himself, he'd admit how much he enjoys kissing your lips. There's something calming to him about it. Grounding. Don't be surprised to find him staring at your lips more often - he's still not one to initiate, but he'll jump at the chance to be able to kiss you again.

Thoma, oh Thoma...I don't even know where to start with him! He kisses you when he sees you in the morning, he kisses you when you come by Komore Teahouse, he kisses you when he spots you in the street; there's almost no place he doesn't immediately pull you into his arms and give you a kiss before asking about how you're doing. The only place he may have some reverence is in the Kamisato Estate, especially if the Lord or Lady of the manor are present. PDA is a nonissue with him - unless he's working of course! Thoma really, really enjoys being able to kiss you anywhere on your face, especially your cheeks! He'll always give them a little nuzzle afterwards since he has to run off and get back to work, but he always promises to make up for his departure with several more kisses when you see each other again!

Tighnari is always a bit of a hit or a miss. Not because he doesn't want to kiss, but because he's been working on several new guidelines and regulations for researchers coming into the forest, working on another presentation that he'll need to give in a few weeks, and he really can't afford to be distracted right now. Which almost always happens when he kisses you. He's somehow pavlov'd himself into treating kisses as a reward and can't untrain himself for the life of him. That being said, he really and genuinely enjoys giving and getting kisses after a long day when you've both gotten the chance to settle down and the rest of Gandharva Ville is at peace for the night. He enjoys getting them a little bit more though, especially on top of his head. Kissing his ears is nice, but he always involuntarily flicks them in your face when you do that and then you have to hear him rant on and on about not doing that. As if that's actually going to stop you next time.

Cyno's kisses are always sweet and shy...because he's genuinely shy about it. This isn't something that he can learn in a way that he's familiar with and there's no substitution for learning about it in a non hands-on way. And since he's a perfectionist, or very near to being one, he always overthinks when, where, and how he should kiss you. Unfortunately, since he's frequently away for work, he doesn't often get to even think about giving you a kiss and it's even more so unlikely for him to attempt one when you're both in public. He's already frequently targeted for his position. Getting you tied up in a mess would just make him feel like he has to put distance between the two of you. That being said, he does always enjoy pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. In part because he's too shy to kiss you directly, but also because he likes the way he can feel the way your lips quirk into a smile at the action. There's always a joke either following that kiss or said right before he kisses you because if there's one thing that he enjoys more than actually kissing you, it's getting a chance to hear you laugh.

Kaveh...most people would expect him to be well versed in this realm given his artistic and perfectionist nature. They could not be more incorrect. Those closest to Kaveh know that he's thrown himself into his work and studies for the majority of his life - often resting only when it most benefitted the most recent project or proposal he was working on. As honest and open of a person he is, he's never really let that part of his inexperience be known (lest he be mocked by a certain Scribe hovering around) and is quick to change the subject if he's ever asked about it. Unfortunately, Kaveh is very uncertain when it comes to accepting affection. Not because he doesn't want it, it's something he wants and treasures dearly, but because he often feels like he doesn't deserve it or that it could be taken away from him at any time. Kisses specifically make him nervous because he wants them and enjoys them so much, especially when he gets to press them against your palms, wrists, eyelids, the corners of your mouth - anywhere he can reach really. Kissing him back is a one way ticket to a very emotional evening. Not every time, but it takes him a moment to relax afterwards and acknowledge that everything is alright and that you aren't going anywhere. Be patient with him, he's working through a lot right now.

#toast talks #genshin impacted #genshin x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #xiao x reader #thoma x reader #tighnari x reader #cyno x reader #kaveh x reader #This is so LONG I got too excited lmaooo #Been thinking about these lads for days they won't leave me alone aaaaa #Thank you for making me think about them Gray now I will never be normal again

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coffeewithcocoa · 2 months

Text

Long Days but Dancin’ In the Rain

Human Alastor x GN Reader

Warnings: fluff||Females DNI

Summary: After a long day of work it started raining. Which made you want to dance out in the rain with Alastor.

———————————————————————

Your day was long, too long for that fact. A small huff came from you as you placed your coat on the coat holder, your shoes replaced with indoor ones. Good thing you got home when you did as the sky changed into a gloomy gray and it started pouring. You saw that your husband was already home from the corners of your eyes. Smooth jazz was playing of course, knowing that your dear was a fan of it.

A low hum as you stared out the window, watching the droplets hit the glass pane. Constantly listening to the pitter-patter of rain, you stole a glance over your shoulder, noticing now that Alastor was focused on some book. Your eyes squinted, trying to read the title from where you were at, The Grim Brothers Fairytales, is what you thought you saw. You could hear Alastor softly humming along to the song, filling the room with more of the jazz.

You may have found yourself staring a bit too long as you watched him peer up from his book with that charming smile of his. Quickly, you glanced away, realizing you were caught staring and felt your cheeks become warm. You could hear Alastor chuckle at you and you couldn't help but curse him inwardly for his infuriating handsomeness. You wondered how you were able to pull this man; he always appeared somewhat aloof when it came to matters of relationships and commitment. That was until you found him at your doorstep one day, dressed ever so nicely—a true gentleman with a bouquet of flowers and everything. After that, everything seemed to fall into place like a puzzle piece.

As your gaze wandered over the rain-soaked streets outside, lost in thought, an idea suddenly sparked within you. It had been far too long since you indulged in the simple pleasure of playing out in the rain. Missing the nice feeling of the cold rain hitting your open skin, running down until it hits the ground along with the other droplets, you would probably catch a cold. A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of your lips as you glanced over at Alastor. You knew he wasn't keen on getting dirty; he had always been a man who prioritized maintaining his handsome appearance. Yet, for your sake, you dared to hope he would make an exception, just this once. After all, who could resist having a bit of fun in the rain? With a playful tone, you asked, trying to contain your excitement, "Hey, Al, care to join me for a dance?"

You suggested with a smile, feeling a surge of excitement as you extended the invitation. Alastor raised an eyebrow in response, a hint of intrigue flickering in his eyes. But before he could answer, you giggled gleefully, taking that as a yes. Springing up from your seat, you reached out and grabbed his hand, eagerly whisking the both of you out of your cozy apartment. With a gentle tug, you led him outside, where the rain gently fell and the air was cool and cloudy. Alastor seemingly stood beneath the canopy's threshold, his hesitation palpable, while you, in stark contrast, were filled with eager anticipation.

Conveniently, with no cars in sight, you dashed towards the rain, relishing the feeling of the water trickling down your face. Glancing back at Alastor, who stood under the canopy, watching your playful antics, you couldn't help but grin. Alastor's lips curved into a brief, endearing smile, a soft chuckle escaping him as he shook his head in fond amusement. With a playful gleam in his eyes, he finally relented to your whims, stepping out into the rain beside you.

As you both stood there, completely drenched by the rain, Alastor's gaze seemed to linger on you, the curve of his smirk betraying his amusement. Running a hand through his wet brown hair, he couldn't help but laugh in disbelief as he tilted his head back to look at the sky. Then, turning his gaze back to you, he couldn't help but ask, "Are you pleased with yourself, cher?" You gave him a small nod. “Yeah, I am.” You chuckled out seeing his hair all disheveled.

As the rain fell softly around both of you, you paid no mind to anything else. Your hand reached out to Alastor, a silent invitation to dance with you. With a grin, he accepted your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours and together, you twirled and swayed in the rain, completely lost in the moment. Under the cloudy sky, the gentle patter of raindrops provided enough music for you too. Together, you danced, each movement perfectly in sync with the other. The both of you danced under the cloudy sky, your laughter mingling with the sound of the falling rain. "The things I do for you, darling," Alastor chuckled, a small, fond smile gracing his features as he spun you around aimlessly.

A small chuckle leaving your lips as you and him danced so effortlessly together. You enjoyed the feeling of both the cold rain falling into your body and the way your lovely husband. Even if you had to be secret about it you both would enjoy each other’s company no matter what the cause is. The spin finally dropped as it felt like you were going in slow motion. Then the feeling of falling came to you as his hand went to your back, dipping you. Water droplets hitting your face as his came into your view. A polite smile taking up your gaze from the rest of his defining features as his eyes locked onto yours. Your gaze went to kiss eyes as his lips pressed onto in a soft and gentle kiss.

———————————————————————

DRUNK CONSEQUENCES HOPEFULLY COMES OUT SOON!

Have this my lovely children. I thought of this while on Janitor.Ai😭 Half the idea if from the AI I was talking to and the other half I came up with. It was too beautiful so I had to write some more of it. A master list is coming out soon so you can see everything that I wrote/write!

#hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader #x male reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #human alastor #asexual #asexual alastor #jazz #alastor x you #alastor x gn!reader

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larkspyrr · 7 months

Text

chapter i — we could form an attachment (wc. 4.9k)

prev — masterlist / ao3 — next

reblogs are appreciated!

The Opera Epiclese was almost always a circus — sometimes in the most literal sense of the word. But this event was on another level entirely.

The epicenter of Fontaine's rich history on Erinnyes played host to a menagerie of pastels, frills, cuffs, and nonsense. A sea of nobles and hopefuls swarmed the Court of Fontaine from Marcotte Station all the way to the Fountain of Lucine — a mass of the nation's wealthiest, most ambitious, and most eligible young people, escorted here and there by older family members with varying degrees of investment, twirling and sipping and gossiping.

The jets hidden within the overlapping layers of shallow pools spouted pillars of crystalline water, casting an almost imperceptible mist over the whole courtyard, granting it an ethereal charm and allure not befitting such fatuous rituals. A flood of rainbow roses, lumidouce bells, marcottes, and activated romaritimes bloomed raucously over every inch of the gardens, their aroma thick but not unpleasant, their petals offering a lush natural carpet for the venue — not that there was enough space between the milling crowd to appreciate it. Cuihua trees bursting with bulle fruit lined the perimeter, the little citruses begging to be picked, only protected by the unspoken high society rule that to do so would be unbecoming. A small quartet of violins stood before the fountain itself, playing a light-hearted and airy song to accompany the festivities, though not a soul was paying attention.

A few lucky (or conversely, unlucky) aristocrats may leave the Opera tonight with the promise of approaching nuptials and a happy future. Far more would simply leave with an impending hangover and some gossip on Baron Something-or-Other's latest romantic failings.

You took a dainty sip from your champagne flute. It would be more nauseating if it weren't so entertaining. You and Lady Furina seemed to have that in common — an enduring appreciation for the cyclical drama. You wondered absently if the Archon herself would make an appearance to stir something up. You hoped she would.

All the world's a stage, indeed.

You made your way across the courtyard, the click of your heels on the parquet stone drowned out by the throng; a nearby wide, stone planter in your sights. It would be as good a place as any for you to remain aloof and antisocial but still in sight of your father, who spared you a supervisory glance from where he stood with other noblemen, certainly discussing nothing of importance.

From your new perch, the noise and color and spectacle all were duller, easier to digest. You leaned against the marble and observed the sea of activity, daintily nursing your drink.

You were enjoying the time spent on your own when you heard a soft rustle of fabric to your right — a noise that would have been impossible to catch had you been any closer to the heart of the gathering. You turned in time to see a man you didn't recognize leaning against the same planter as you, looking for all the world as comfortable as if you'd invited him to be there.

You had not.

He didn't seem to belong there — that much was evident — and not just because he was an unfamiliar face. Tall and dark, his icy blue eyes were framed by a rush of thick, dark hair and a thin, crescent scar. Far from his only scar, by the looks of it — a complex network traveled down his neck and disappeared under his collar, intricate enough to rival the meticulous lacework that had cost your father a pretty mora at the boutique — despite your insistence that such costs were wholly unnecessary. The stranger's suit, a well-tailored gray and black ensemble, was partially obscured by a fussy, fur-lined coat. His burgundy tie was ever-so-slightly crooked, making your fingers twitch with the urge to adjust it. A desire no doubt born of the years you had been doing the very same for father.

Even under the warmth of the setting summer sun, he seemed to radiate a chill that brought goosebumps to your exposed arms.

If he'd ever been at an event before this one, there was no way you could have forgotten him. He seemed the type to linger in someone's mind long after he left a room.

He tilted a polite smile down at you.

"Good afternoon, miss," he greeted in a voice altogether too friendly to match his intimidating countenance.

"Charmed," you clipped. You gave him an appraising look, not rushing the path your eyes made up his frame, from the clunky boots, ill-suited for the occasion, to the silver streaks in his hair he didn't seem quite old enough for yet. He had the dignity not to cower under your inspection. "I'm afraid this flowerbed is occupied, sir. Please find your own."

His smile shifted and was clearly meant to look apologetic. You weren't convinced. "I'm afraid I can't."

You lifted a brow. If nothing else, this could be an entertaining interlude from the pomp and circumstance. "And why not?"

He cleared his throat, nodding in the direction of some hedges across the way. You flicked your eyes over discreetly, just in time to catch a head of blonde hair and another of jet curls disappearing behind the greenery, followed by stage whispers that surely they didn't think were quiet. Didn't they?

"You see," he began in a lower tone, clearly having better mastered the art of not being overheard than your spectators. "There is a gaggle of lovely but persistent young women in pursuit of me at this very moment, and I'd very much like to be engaged in conversation with someone else in order to postpone my torment. I'd be in your debt if you could look engrossed in this discussion for just long enough that they lose interest and find someone else to prey upon."

You hummed thoughtfully, watching now ginger curls leaning incautiously from behind the hedge, green eyes landing viciously on you and the interloper before vanishing once more. Just how many girls were hiding behind there?

"Oh?" you said, raising the glass to your lips with a smirk. "Not interested in sampling their scintillating conversation skills? Are you not here in search of a partner?"

"No, I'm not," he responded good-naturedly, running a hand through the artfully tousled sweep of his hair. "I have no intentions to marry at present."

You hmphed, twirling the flute in a gloved hand. "Yet here you are," you said, softly flicking the glass in his general direction, the tiny whirlpool you'd gotten going interrupted. You did not bother to conceal your skepticism. "Tolerating the vagaries of a high society debutante ball. And you'd tell a complete stranger this, because...?"

He leaned in, conspiratorial. "I am here as a matter of obligation only. Politics. Appearances. You understand." He returned back to his former stance, expression neutral, resting lazily against the polished marble. "Let's just say I'm sharp enough to recognize a kindred spirit when I see one."

You could feel yourself reflecting the same curiosity that danced in his eyes against your better judgment. This exchange was turning out to be interesting. "A kindred spirit, is it?"

"Indeed," he said. "Judging by the fact that you are also skulking in this corner and don't seem to have any more interest in mingling at this event than I do."

"I do not 'skulk'," you responded, unamused at his word choice. "And while I'd ask you to separate me from your assumptions, you aren’t incorrect. I'm also here only because it is expected of me."

He looked pleased with himself at your confirmation, and now dealt you the same appraisal you'd previously subjected him to with a calculating stare. You fought the urge to fidget under his evaluation, finding it beyond frustrating to have no idea what he was thinking behind his amicable yet inscrutable exterior. "Is that so? It is not often you see a noble lady uninvested in the affairs of the court."

You bristled, fighting the urge to furrow your eyebrows in a way you'd been told by many etiquette coaches was 'unflattering'. "There are greater aspirations to have beyond being a pretty little thing for some nobleman to set on his trophy shelf. Even for so-called 'noble ladies'."

He laughed then, a short, surprised burst. The sound was rich, reverberating in your bones. "My apologies. Please don't misunderstand, my curiosity tends to get the better of me. Indulge me?"

You sniffed, turning away from him once more to observe the hedge across the path — it seemed quiet enough now that the ladies within must have moved on like he'd hoped they would. Your chin lifted of its own accord as you flicked your eyes back to him. "I'm not interested in discussing my life aspirations with a man who lacks the good manners to even introduce himself first."

His mouth pulled up at one corner. "Are you sure the exchange of such confidential information would be of equal value?"

You held your stance, unfazed. "That will be for me to decide, sir."

"Very well." He inclined his head, an earnest hand pressed to his chest. "I am Wriothesley, Duke of the Fortress of Meropide. It is an honor to make your acquaintance."

You felt the color leave your face and your fingers go dead cold. This man — the Duke of Meropide, of all things — watched cheerfully as you hurried into polite obeisance. Damn it all. You hadn't exactly been courteous with the man. "Your Grace. The honor is mine."

His eyes still shone with mirth as you straightened. "Please, no need for such formalities. My mistake for — ah, what was it you said?'' he pondered, eyes drifting off in mock thought as you waited, drenched in miserable anticipation. "Right! ‘Not having the good manners to introduce myself first’."

Your cheeks warmed and you forced back a rush of frustration with yourself. "My apologies, I — I meant no disrespect," you said, gathering your composure. "You are not at all what I pictured, Your Grace. I hadn't known you were to attend a society function here on the surface."

"Tragically, society functions below the Fontemer are in short supply," he said sardonically. "And please, don't apologize, it's not often one gets to enjoy a chat with a charming, spirited stranger. What's your name?"

You offer it with another small nod. "My father is the Viscount Vellerot."

As if on cue, you faintly heard your father's voice calling your name from somewhere amidst the hustle and bustle; evidently he'd lapsed in his duty as your chaperone — once again — and had lost track of you. You weren't sure what it was he may want, though; clearly something must have come up to remind him of his purpose at this party. That was generally the way of things.

You tended to prefer being forgotten.

"And that would be him calling for me now," you explained as you pushed yourself from the planter and stepped past him. "This flowerbed is all yours. It was a pleasure to hide from the gaggle of lovely women with you, Your Grace. Good luck avoiding them for the rest of the evening."

He chuckled, a sheepish smile on his face. "The pleasure was all mine, my lady," he said. "But don't think I've forgotten our deal. You still owe me an answer."

With a vague smile and a polite curtsy, you disappeared back into the crowd, leaving the duke still leaning against the flowerbed.

Turns out, your father had only wished to introduce you to yet another son of yet another powerful acquaintance of his. His hopeful eyes as he sent the two of you off to dance only made it harder to turn the boy down, even if he were several years your junior and an entitled brat to boot. Your father truly only wanted your happiness, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him his efforts were in vain. This young noble wasn't the first you'd ever had to reject, and you unfortunately very much doubted he'd be the last — though you hoped he would, at least, be the last for that particular soirèe.

It turned out that would not be the case either, but you tried to keep an approximation of optimism anyway.

The one thing more sure than the line of people begging your attention — for want of your dowry and the association with your family, not anything to do with you, mind — was the tidal wave of whispers that had begun to take over the flow of the neverending gossip. It hadn't taken long for the news to spread —

Did you hear? This event has a special guest —

The Duke of Meropide is here? He must finally be looking for a duchess…

Come, Anne, allow me to introduce you to the duke. Fix your gloves, we want to make a good impression. Let me put this flower in your hair — maybe he will ask you for a dance!

Slowly, all the usual chirping melted away into one, resounding sentiment from all corners of the court — the Duke of Meropide is here, and he will be mine.

None of them knew what you did. You did your best to conceal your smile at the knowledge that all their posturing and peacocking was an investment in vain. Just as it was when their artless schemes were directed at you.

Afternoon melted into evening and you'd been idling away the hours, chatting to and dancing with and entertaining people who you didn't have the privilege to inform were wasting their time with you, longing to be anywhere else.

You finally seized enough of an opening to flee the courtyard proper for a moment of respite in a blooming hedge maze, as the gathering at the top of the grand stone steps was dying down and getting ready to migrate to the beautiful, opulent expanse of the Icewind Suite for the evening's grand finale. You found a remote, hidden spot and sat heavily, removing a shoe so you could massage the soles of your aching, overworked feet.

A branch snapped nearby and you whipped your head in its direction, heart thundering, to find the individual responsible for interrupting your moment of rest.

You should have known.

"We meet again," said the duke with a dip of his head.

"We do indeed," you said from where you were seated, letting your foot drop. Even in the dim lighting of the garden, you could see the man looked worn. Delight pulled at your lips at his evident misfortune. "Enjoying your evening?"

He sighed, a long, drawn-out, heartfelt sound. "Can't say that I am," he admitted.

You smiled ruefully. "That makes two of us. These events are nothing if not a test of our constitution." A yawning silence expanded between you and you slipped your heel back on, standing with a small stretch. You brushed down your dress. "I will return to the group. I really shouldn't be seen here with you without my chaperone, Your Grace. It wouldn't be proper."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't you ever get fatigued by these stuffy, outdated rules?"

"Every day," you said wryly. "But the rules still exist, and I have a reputation to uphold. I can't be thought to have been compromised. There are always sharp eyes waiting for someone to slip."

He crossed his arms in front of his chest, keen eyes glinting, in a gesture all too calculating for your liking. "Why risk coming out here alone at all?" he asked. "What if a person with bad intentions were to come looking for you? Someone who might wish to 'compromise' you?"

"A person other than you?" you retorted. "All I know of your intentions is that they do not include marriage, yet here you are anyway. Who's to say what your intentions truly are?"

He frowned. "Point taken," he conceded. "Though I assure you, they are nothing untoward. You didn't answer my question."

Your smile was scornful. "Fear not, Your Grace, for I am quite sure no one at this party could present any real physical threat to me. Of course, we are all always subject to the whims of the rumor mill, and I'm afraid that could do much more damage to me than any wealthy man in tights ever could."

His lips twitched in amusement. "Physical?" he remarked. "You grow more intriguing with every word."

"I am quite skilled, sir, both with a sword and without," you replied, a proud tilt to your chin.

He hummed thoughtfully, nodding. "That brings our deal back to mind. What is it you'd do instead, if not play along with these society games?"

You considered him for a long moment. His curiosity seemed genuine. You saw no reason to lie or disguise the truth. "I'd become a Champion Duelist."

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly before his smile broadened. "How about that?"

Your eyes narrowed, leaning forward into his space just slightly. "Is there a problem?"

"Not at all," he assured with a dismissive wave and a light, surprised laugh. "Just caught off guard."

You huffed and leaned back, allowing the remainder of your defensiveness to drain away. "Miss Clorinde is an acquaintance of my father, as it sometimes seems everyone in Fontaine is," you said, dry. "She has been gracious enough to join me in training from time to time. Of course, that will slow considerably during the social season while I trade in my boots for heels and my fencing ripostes for verbal ones."

He looked lost in thought for a moment. "I knew nothing about the aristocracy before receiving my title — it wasn't part of the curriculum for urchins, believe it or not. But in all my studies since, I've never once heard of a member of the inherent nobility leaving their seat for such a role."

"There is a first for all things," you said airily. "I had forgotten you come from, uh, humble beginnings. Your studies must have been quite intensive."

"I do, and they were. They still are. There's a lot about all of this I still find kinda baffling. My 'humble beginnings' are unfortunately part of the reason I have to make appearances this season," he said, tone ringing resentful. "It seems not all of our peers are pleased that a former… commoner with an honorary title is in the position I'm in. There are those interested in incorporating the Fortress as an official Fontainian entity — a government-managed facility. The question of my legitimacy is only helping their case when I haven't participated at court in any formal capacity as Duke."

You pondered his words for a moment. "So the rumors are true? This truly is your first time ever attending a society function?"

He nodded, his nose wrinkling with distaste. "It is, and it seems no amount of reading could have prepared me for it. The Iudex suggested that making a point of looking for a wife of noble birth, genuine or otherwise, might be enough to keep the wolves at bay, at least until the nobility votes to solidify or dissolve the Fortress of Meropide's autonomy, and by extension, my position as its administrator. He said if I wished to sway the vote my way, then I'd have to convince them I belong." He grimaced. "And that I’d have to consider making some sacrifices to do so.”

"I can't say that I'm surprised," you said. "These people value one thing above all else — their own superiority. Anything that threatens that, threatens them. If you were to form a connection with a strong family, the fuss would surely die down. No one wants to be on the bad side of those more powerful than they are."

The duke hummed. "Then Lord Thibeault must think he is very threatened indeed. I've been feeling a bit like a fish quite literally out of water. Would it be improper of me to say I miss my fortress?"

You snorted, unladylike. "He's the ring leader? Lord Thibeault must have far too much time on his hands if he is available to cause as much trouble as he does."

"You're familiar?"

"'Familiar' is one way of putting it. Lord Thibeault is a busybody and a wretch. He can't bear to see anything fresh or interesting shake up his beloved court or upset the status quo he holds so dear."

"So it seems," the duke said thoughtfully, letting a quiet beat pass. "Your aspiration was a pleasant surprise. Thank you for sharing it with me."

"It is only a secret by necessity," you sighed. "Not because I'd like it to be. What was your expectation?"

"I didn't have any expectations,” he said. His mouth curved into a roguish grin. “Never do. That's what makes the wait so good. I love cliffhangers."

You laughed. "I'd hate to have kept you in suspense. Sadly, the endless cycles of dancing and tea and etiquette classes will leave me little time to continue my training over the coming months, so my dream will remain just that: a dream."

"Why do you do it, then?” he asked, cocking his head. “Continue enduring all this nonsense?"

"As I said before, it is my duty,” you said slowly, wilting. A familiar feeling of defeat sank into your bones. “It would set a bad precedent if I didn't. I have two younger sisters and my father is a good man who only wants us to be happy, but he is getting on in years and... well. If I were to dishonor our family by abandoning them before they were situated, I could never forgive myself."

His eyebrows drew together and you could see his gears turning. "That's why you continue to take part?"

"Yes. I just need to somehow find a way to avoid any... obligations until they are in safe, happy situations, and then maybe I can be free. They are only just behind me in years, so it won't be that long. If all goes according to plan, a few years, maybe. Otherwise, as there is no male heir, my sisters would be at the next Viscount Vellerot's mercy when my father passes, whoever he may be once he is named. I will not risk their futures for my own selfishness."

The duke frowned. "I don't think wanting to pursue what would make you happy should be considered selfish."

You shrugged. "Nevertheless, if I want to make sure my sisters are taken care of, I likely will eventually need to secure the hand of a respectable man, my own wishes be damned,” you sighed. “I suppose I just can’t help but to naively hope for something more."

He looked to be lost in thought, arms crossed in front of his chest, tapping a considering finger on his chin, a tap-tap-tap that set your teeth on edge and filled your with a sense of foreboding. His eyes, looking at something far off in the distance, eventually focused back on your own as he came to some hidden conclusion in his mind.

"And what of a duke?" he offered.

You blinked, your mind hurrying to understand the implication of his words, yet failing to do so. "Something on your mind, Your Grace?"

"I have a proposition for you."

You looked at him intently. "And what would that be? This isn't going to be another ill-fated proposal, is it?” you scolded. “I thought you were supposed to be smarter than that."

"Oh, not at all," he said, dangerous eyes holding yours in a vice grip. "We could pretend to form an attachment."

You found yourself temporarily at a loss for words. You heard him, knew the meaning of each word in solitude, but strung together in such a fashion they felt like mismatching puzzle pieces, the completed landscape out of reach. "What do you mean?"

He began to pace in the small clearing, gesturing with his arms as he unfolded the inner workings of his mind. "We are both uninterested in marriage and yet forced to give the impression that we are. I need the lords and ladies of the court to believe I have found my duchess to cement my legitimacy as the duke until we secure the Fortress of Meropide’s autonomy. You need them to believe that you are searching for a respectable husband to maintain your, and by extension, your family's good reputation until your sisters have found happy matches. Who could be more suited to our respective needs than each other?"

"You're suggesting a ruse?" you whispered, scandalized. “Are you crazy?”

"Perfectly sane,” he continued. “What I'm suggesting is that we let the people believe we are precisely what we are — respectably off-the-market."

You began to shake your head in disbelief, wanting to back away but finding your legs refusing to obey your command. "Your proposition is ridiculous."

"It's perfect,” he said with conviction. “What better way is there to keep the wolves at bay than to lower the gates? Plus — you understand more about how to blend into society than I could ever hope to, and let's just say that with my background, I could offer a hand in your training. We can help each other.”

“The season won’t last forever,” you pointed out. "And when autumn comes around?"

"Oh, that’s the beauty of it. We go our separate ways," he said, eyes gleaming like he was telling an inside joke no one in Teyvat other than the two of you could ever understand. "It didn't work out! It happens."

You laughed, incredulous, an unfamiliar feeling beginning to fill your chest.

"There are sure to be reporters for the Steambird here,” he said. “One dance in the Icewind Suite, and you and I will be the cover story of tomorrow's paper. Then, no one will touch us."

You blinked, running through every possible outcome and scenario in your mind, but — steadily, the pros began to outweigh the cons. You could continue your training. You would have to invest significantly less of your time at these Celestia-forsaken events and not sacrifice anything for either yourself or your sisters in the process. A smile crept onto your lips as the feeling in your chest reached a crescendo — it was hope, a happy, buoyant feeling you were always afraid to let yourself feel.

"This really could work, couldn’t it?" you asked softly.

His smile looked truly genuine for the first time that evening as he offered you his arm. "It will work."

Your arm was looped through the duke's as you made your way down the stairs towards the Icewind Suite, the path lined with lit lamp posts and romaritimes and gawking attendees. The hydro blooms were releasing an array of colorful, opalescent bubbles into the cooling night air, making the latest turn of events feel even more surreal than they already did. The usual residents of the Suite were nowhere to be seen, likely decommissioned, their eternal waltz paused so they could make room for the evening's closing event — and some select charades.

The crowd hushed as you stepped past, a wave of quiet rolling downwards, and you could feel the weight of dozens of curious eyes on you. With each step, arm in arm with the duke, it seemed that more and more attention broke away to hone in on you. You wondered vaguely if your father was anywhere among them — you wondered what he thought. You managed to spot Lord Thibeault in the throng — a disapproving scowl pulled at his wizened face.

Finally, the two of you reached the ground, the shimmering sea of polished marble spread out before you, empty but for the reflection of the night sky in its depths. It waited for you, the symbol of a successful evening of new partnerships and futures to be shared. You’d seen many a pair spin upon this floor — never once had it been you. You had never intended for it to ever be you.

All the world’s a stage, after all.

The duke gently shifted your body so that the two of you were facing one another. He bowed, an elegant bending of his knees and lowering of his head, far more graceful than a man who had his history etched into his skin should be capable of. He made it look effortless.

Icy blue seized you as he straightened back up, eyes crinkling ever-so-slightly at the corners. "Might I have this dance?" he asked, holding out a hand.

His mirror, you curtsied, slow and deliberate. You smiled, a small and surreptitious thing, and placed your gloved hand in his. "You may. Don't trip on your feet now, Your Grace. Rule number one for fitting into high society — you must be as graceful and confident in a ballroom as you are on a battlefield."

He pulled you in closer; too close to be strictly proper. "Call me Wriothesley. We want this to be convincing, don’t we?” he murmured into your ear. Another pulse of low whispers spread throughout the spectators as a few more pairs joined you on the Icewind Suite. “And you wound me, my lady. I think you will find my performance to be more than satisfactory.”

You swallowed thickly. "That remains to be seen, Wriothesley. Let's hope you can convince them better than you can me."

The grand ballroom and every last soul within held their breath as the duke placed a rough, scarred hand on the small of your back. You could feel the weight of it through layers of thin lace and silk as you wove your free hand under his arm and anchored it against the back of his broad shoulder. Your fingers on his back felt inexplicably cold, but the rest of your body burned hot. Your heart pounded. Your eyes locked onto his. Time came to a standstill.

“I intend to,” he said.

The music began to play, and you allowed him to lead.

a/n: so here she is!! i am really excited to get into this one, and i know there was a bit borrowed here from bridgerton itself, tho i promise this is where most of the direct similarities will end. i simply wanted to pay homage to where this idea initially came from <;3 hope you all enjoy

i didn't initially plan to have a taglist for this one, but if there are enough requests for one, i'll consider it. if anyone knows of a better way to notify people when i update (besides pointing them to ao3, anyway) im all ears

til next time!

#wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wrio #wrio x reader #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin imagines #reader inserts #reader insert #lark.writes #🌊

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