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kalims · 1 year

Text

˃ ᵕ ˂ . . "what are you willing to do? oh tell me what you're willing to do."

I would,

premise. in which it's the things he's willing to do.

parts. one , two

characters. rook, cater, ruggie, lilia, epel and kalim.

contents. scenario, fluff, crack, comfort, teaspoon of angst in lilia,

includes. gender neutral reader, sebek x gn!reader (platonic) in lilia's.

cw. mentions of nudity (not what you think it is I swear)

note. not proofread, but read clarifications please thank you!! it's to clear up general idea's of the scenarios

I know most of lilia's part is sebek but I hope you know the whole point of it

my unofficial 'I am back' post

rook hunt

I would be your number one fan.

who the hell thought it would be a good idea for you to be the main character in the play?

oh wait.

that's right it's freaking vil. the worst part? it's VIL and no matter how much you resent the idea, you can't exactly deny vil all in his glory when he asks you because either way he's gonna strike you down with one look alone.

well at the very least if vil insisted you be the main lead out of... over 300 students in the school he must really be striving for success. if he wasn't he wouldn't be so lenient.

now you get why epel is both terrified and irritated at vil.

you were getting starved! (which is in fact, not true but you swear your stomach is still empty and lonely after one meal full of vegetables) maybe you don't mind veggies, maybe you do. but heck.. you enjoy those delicious, savory food once in a while.

you huff, panting as you kneel over. this was absolute hell. if you knew your character liked to apparently 'test their speed with horses' literally everyday you wouldn't have taken the spot. really though who even enjoys that?!

the play took place in an older era, where high society and such was a thing. typical main lead is outcasted yadda yadda.

you wipe the sweat off your brow and sweatdrop. "bonjour! you look positively sparkling!" a bottle of water is promptly shoved in your face, but even with the sudden intrusion of space you pay it no heed. after all water had never looked so enticing before.

though sparkling? you'd rather use the word 'hot and sweaty'. if anyone was sparkling it'd be rook. "I'm more stinky than sparkling." you can't say you enjoy the feeling of sweat on your skin.

even at your little joke his smile doesn't falter, rather it widens through the crinkle of his eyes. "you are still beautiful in my eyes, trésor"

you raise a brow at his casual compliment.

"I don't see how you'd like me racing with horses." it is rather ungrateful, you'd expect a character like yours to be on the horse, not running alongside it! magically out of nowhere rook pulls out a handkerchief which you gratefully accept.

your nose catches a whiff of the scent. wow, it smells like rook. too bad it's getting sacrificed for the better good. you think, patting down your forehead in the way vil taught you.

cause apparently just dragging it across your skin wasn't as good as patting it. though you won't question the unusual languange.

rook seemed to find your comment humorous as he laughed. "whatever you'll do. I will always admire!" well gods. his smile was contagious cause you found yourself mirroring his look. rook looks pleased with the upturn of your lips.

he catches a hold on your shoulders. "perhaps this is merely stage fright. first time, no? do not fret! I will be cheering for you if it makes you feel better."

your face twists into that of doubt. "um.. rook I love you but that seems.." embarrassing? you'd got your own share of people yelling out your name in a cheer. especially your family at an event you were featured in.

the experience wasn't that nice. it's not that you hate it, but something about it is like a thorn in your mind.

rook tilts his head. "nonsense, trésor. I will show everyone how nice your performance is, they deserve to know!" he proclaims.

oh no no no—

you chant in your head, frantically running around rook and attempting to stop him from giving you an example. just the first shout attracted the attention of your other co-workers.. "ROOK—"

"let them hear the depths of my love!"

ㅤ

cater diamond

I would be present.

cater is observant.

his ability to sway nearly every conversation to his favor is partially due to his ability to pick out the opposing person, be it a nervous twitch when the conversation tilts to a subject. or the gleeful shine in their eyes.

he can tell, especially you.

sure. he might've known you less compared to his friends but it feels like he can tell everything about you.

it does feel like a crush at first, he's questioning himself whether his feelings are actually romantic or not. borderline gaslighting himself that it's not even when he tries everything to impress you.

'you're just a friend' he tells himself but he's testing out the tricks social media told him to. holding eye contact when he can't even contain his heart.. amongst other things it's his favorite.

cause he can see your eyes, and at times you look away. clearly embarrassed by the contact.

"how's my favorite person doing?" cater slides in. seemingly out of nowhere, slinging a casual arm around your shoulder while keeping you close.

seriously. the occurrence had happened to often you had grown to find the little shoulder sling present in your everyday.

technically you are his favorite person but no matter how much he says so you just don't believe it.

you roll your eyes but can't keep the smile off your face, despite the clear look of exhaustion on your face. "just peachy. don't you have class right now?"

as far as you were aware. the time period between classes were alternating. it was the students that had to move between rooms to attend their class.

cater shrugs. "we were excused for club practice. it just ended, so I thought; why not see how you're doing?" he explains. pinching your cheek out of the simple urge and grinning when you grunt and slap his hand away.

as far as he can tell. you are definitely not feeling peachy, the bags under your eyes. more prominent than ever, or the unkempt appearance that both vil and riddle would practically strangle you for speaks volume.

"I'm fine."

cater knows that look all too well.

he tightens his grip on your shoulder and practically pushes you to his side, not really forceful. his eyes soften the littlest bit.

whatever vulnerability cater had shown for a little quickly disappeared as he simply smiles, perhaps less bright than his usual but it was.. something.

closer than you've ever been cater leans in, in a voice you've never heard. it's quiet, and gentle. "well. if you ever aren't come talk to me, okay?"

you still at the sudden warmth that jolts in your heart. "okay.."

ruggie bucchi

I would give you the tastiest piece

"—can you believe it?" ruggie huffs. words coming out in mumbles due to the amount of donuts he'd eaten in a single minute. it seemed that a mouth full of his favorite treats isn't gonna stop him from telling you all about leona's recent orders for him.

you absent-mindedly swirl your drink with a straw. "totally."

it was like, it goes in one ear and out to another. it does feel a little horrible to ignore something someone's talking about, especially if that person is someone you like! the only reason you were listening is cause you liked his voice.

you did get the gist of it though. it seemed like leona was in a bad mood nowadays, which meant ruggie had to take most of it by the increasing amount of errands leona had him run.

leona in a bad mood = ruggie's now more broken sleep.

as the resident ruggie stan you didn’t really mind him leeching off the salary you'd gotten for crowley. a few madol isn't gonna hurt your savings, plus. it's not like you haven't bought a few treats for yourself previously in the past.

you leave out the part that you like seeing his delighted face.

you did sneak a few glances by the plate almost finished by ruggie in a mere few minutes. you, by no means spent cheap money on it. for the guy you liked you'd probably buy anything he'd like (within reason) and then 'fall short' if ace asks you to buy him food.

it looked scrumptious in all honesty but from the look of ruggie's face and the assumption that he won't stop any time soon prompted you to shut your mouth and just enjoy him enjoying the donuts.

"thanks a lot for this. you know just how to cheer up an exhausted hyena up." ruggie laughs under his breath. sending you a rare look of appreciation that has you cracking a smile.

proudly, you nod. "of course. anything for you."

you wince. maybe that was too bold, but then again. it didn't seem to faze ruggie in the slightest.

after a period of silence, not exactly awkward in the slightest but rather comforting. no words needed to be said, you liked that, ruggie liked it as well. he casts you a peek.

"I can see you ogling at it. you look like me when I look at the donuts."

you frown. "no I don't.. I am not, ogling at your food."

ruggie shakes his head but there is a trace of a smile in his face. "I might be eating a lot right now but I can't leave you out of it can I? you gave it to me." ruggie says, pausing to look at you before continuing, "it's our food,"

to seemingly show you that it's 'ours' ruggie takes out the final donut in the plate and hands it to you with a grin. "I saved the best for last, here. open your mouth." he urges, threatening to squash it right in your face if you didn't with fast motions.

you sigh. he's just taunting you at this point. and, as far as you can tell that's his favorite flavor.

"but that's your favorite." you point out but ruggie's grin only seemed to spread across his face wider.

he shakes a finger in your face. "nope. correction, you're my favorite now eat up!"

you were too flustered to rebel against it.

ㅤ

lilia vanrouge

I would love with you

"aren't they simply adorable?" lilia raises one finger to point at the duo that.. didn't really seem all to adorable to you.

you sweatdrop. "uh.. yeah.. totally cute." it's not like you were gonna say outright: those are two men who are battling each other, definitely doesn't look cute to me. more like horrifying. to lilia out of all people! if silver and sebek are anything to him it'd be babies.

he beams.

it's safe to say it positively breaks down your entire body to skip a beat of your heart.

earlier the afternoon lilia had graciously extended an invitation to his dorm. something about bonding and since you're incredibly down bad, of course you wasted no time fretting over yourself as you trudged towards the mirror with barely contained excitement.

while sebek did pick you up (courtesy of lilia) you're sure he knew why you were barely able to keep yourself on your toes, hence surprising why he didn't bother to comment in it.

most probably something about the audacity of humans and defending himself if you pointed it out.

you aren't sure of the details which is admittedly kind of idiotic but did you really care? no.

but did you expect to spend your afternoon quite literally babysitting two grown men with the man you can call your yearning? quite a suprise and one you can't say you welcome.

when you accepted the invitation you didn't spend hours picking out articles of clothing and practically thrashing your wardrobe trying to make a 'casual' outfit that would appease to his eyes just to waste it on.. watching two grown men live their own lives!

frankly it's frustrating. it's endearing that lilia had his family in mind every step of the way but all the more irritating. and you don't even mean the part where he had his family in mind.

you just wish he'd realize they aren't the boys he used to baby before.

after god knows when, you watch lilia enter mother hen mode when silver fell down from his sitting-sleeping position. lilia gently lowering himself to adjust silver's position.

you look down.

and god did you feel awful for invalidating his love for family (kind of) it was too presumptuous of you to assume that you'd ever fit in it anyways.

oh well. you shrug. at the very least you were able to bear witness to it.

call it a sixth sense but you can tell sebek is right beside you. he huffs. "you, are a pitiful human." he says casually. the words are awfully mean, but you sense no particular ill intent from the boy.

instead you find it quite amusing. so you laugh quietly under your breath. "so I've been told." you can't use your fingers to count the amount of times sebek had called you that.

you both just stay like that. in silence, surprisingly no quips from sebek's mouth.

till he turns to you.

"the way you look at fathe—master lilia. you are being a coward by not telling him."

"I'm fine with that, there are things better left unsaid."

sebek stares at you. as in, stares real hard. the kind of look you'd see with someone who was feeling a mixture of confusion and frustration.

he opens his mouth as if to say something.

your own gaze lands on a poorly wrapped bandage around his arm. you raise your brows and gesture, "enough talk about me. what is that?"

great seven.. sebek had hoped you wouldn't see that, even so. he didn't pick you out as someone to care anyways (not that he wanted you to) it's just bizarre in itself.

at the mentioned he grunts and looks away. "it is merely a scratch!" he huffs. looking forward aggressively as if to try and hide away the sweat in his forehead. you roll your eyes.

it is a scratch but also not one? sebek and only noticed the blood down his arm when he was in the restroom. it seemed like silver had managed to nick him.

"sit."

"human! you are not—"

"sit."

sebek grumbles but sits down anyways. once again surprising you with his obliged silence as he waits for you to return with a new roll of bandages. the boy can feel the searing embarassment of getting treated by a human by all things!

"my my, seems like silver did a number on you did he?"

lilia chuckles deeply. sending the boy a look which sets off a fire within. sebek immediately opens his mouth to defend himself, while you. busy yourself with wrapping it around tight, but loose enough not hurt.

"silver is lucky to have done it that's all!"

you laugh.

sebek snaps his gaze to you. "what are you laughing about, human?! your way is that of a parent and I don't appreciated you flocking me." he grits out. possibly not realizing the extent of his words till he spots the look of rare suprise in lilia's face.

his face mirrors yours, but yours is definitely coated with embarrassment.

lilia giggles, a fond glance he gives you sends thousand butterflies in your stomach. "parent eh? I didn't know you yearned for another parent my dear sebek. if you wanted two that can be arranged fufufu.."

arranged?!

ㅤ

epel felmier

I would do the craziest thing with you

while you did have your own fair share of being in trouble plenty of times (a good amount stems from being with ace and deuce) you aren't sure if the potential consequences of this one can top any of them.

you squat outside the window of vil's room, which could be considered a violation of privacy if your intention was to break in this room.

right. your eyes slide to your left. in a similar position, epel sits beside you. hugging his legs to his chest looking oddly innocent for someone whose idea was to do this in the first place.

in hindsight you can call it epel's master plan to get a week with vil off his back.

apparently his master plan included adding paint to vil's shampoo, an atrocious color of bright violet. and yes, you were both on the roof. probably looking creepy as fuck to anyone else but you merely prayed that no one would look up.

"are you sure this is safe?"

"it is."

one peek down there made you question his sincerity, either he wasn't worried about falling off or was just too into waiting for vil to get out the shower.

speaking of, "what if he comes out naked?! I don't wanna see that.." you groan. shivering by the mere thought and even epel grimaced when you mentioned it.

"uh.. I hope he won't..?" so we're basing the possibilities out of your hope? great. you think grimly. you really think this is a bad idea, horrible really. but if it's epel you'll do it.

now I know what the 'in the name of love' shit they were talking about. you deadpan.

the more you stare down the more it seems horrifying to just drop down. epel huffs at you, clearly noticing your frantic eyes. "don't look down." he says, and you do just that. the problem is now you can't stop thinking about it. there isn't even a railing to stop you if you slip.

"what if I fall?"

"I'll catch you."

oh shit.

your heart rate speeds up immediately as you lower your eyes, trying your hardest to act casual.

"... with what your tiny, noodle arms?"

epel's face scrunched up at that. he casts you a glare but you know there's no malice in it whatsoever. it's become normal at this point, picking at each other. (of which you thoroughly enjoy)

he crossed his arms. "it's not—! agh whatever!" epel fumes. smacking your arm playfully as you feign a groan of pain. "my arms are manly and strong!"

you looked at him then at his arm before grinning. epel makes a look of offense.

both of you burst into a fit of giggles right after and you never thought he could look any more beautiful with crinkled eyes and a wide smile on his face.

though the moment of felt joy was hushed upon the shrill scream that definitely belonged to vil. of course, it was manly but nevertheless unable to mask the terror in it.

that was like an omen for punishment and revenge. you cover your mouth and look at epel with wide eyes.

he looks at you as well but you can tell he's holding in the cackles.

in all fairness it wouldn't have been too bad if epel used the shade of purple vil had on the tips of his hair. but this one? it's literally a bright neon that will burn your eyes for life.

you can't give yourself the moment to feel warm at your shoulders bumping, too wrapped into muffling the giggles that would definitely wake up the entirety of pomefiore from their beauty sleep.

you and epel are practically gripping each other for life, shoulders shaking in wheezes. midst that, you both failed to hear the rustle over your heads.

"my my, my ears have not decieved me! I know two love birds singing when I hear it."

"OH MY F—"

the laughing immediately seizes as you both look up at rook hovering over the two of you, donning an amused smile.

you sigh. "oh shit."

ㅤ

kalim al asim

I would give it to you

kalim is by no means rich.

he's loaded.

since the day he was born even his room as a child cost more than the monthly expense of a citizen, toys handcrafted by the most talented, a blanket soft and crocheted with the most expensive of silk.

an entire vault filled with treasures, gems, things made entirely out of gold. at some point he leaves them untouched, swimming in it out of boredom.

even scarabia wasn't exempted from his touch of gold.

you could say he doesn't know how to live other than luxuriously.

it sounds bad. he knows, but for the entirety of his life it's all he's ever known. and kalim isn't really one to break out of a habit that's been going on for so long.

nor does he see any bad in it. out of the goodness of his heart he merely thinks he's rewarding you with the things you deserve.

last week a whole lot of tuna was sent to your dorm. it was definitely the work of grim, and you imagine the little feline brought up your name in a conversation with kalim. the boy didn't have a second thought before he took out the money that didn't make a scratch in his account.

while you would have wondered who sent the shit ton that would last grim a good year it was prominent that it was kalim from the exaggerated words of happiness in the gift card, filled with little doodles. (you assume he couldn't help himself)

you make a mental note to limit the interactions between kalim and grim.

the second time it was purely out of coincidence. a mistake on your part, if you'd like to say.

off handedly you'd mentioned to kalim that if someone were to ever give you something on valentines, you'd rather it be one that's beneficial to you. a practical gift. but since it was the day of expressing love you settled for the classic choice of flowers.

everyone loves flowers!

but you didn't expect to step into the cafeteria with your friends and immediately get slapped by a straw flower that apparently sprouted wings and flew (a joke of course) but you like to think that it had something out for you.

deuce's jaw drops at the amount of wildlife around the wide room. there's flowers everywhere and in the sole center was kalim sheepishly scratching his cheek.

"oops."

you just stared around, gobsmacked and flabbergasted. "what.. in the holy name of—" you trail off.

beside you. ace grimaces, slapping away a flower that fell in slow motion beside his face. then dragging a palm across his face. "all of this and he says.. oops?" he groans.

after picking up his jaw from the floor deuce nods hesitantly. "yeah, isn't this a bit much?"

as flattered you were. it really was.

on one, sunny, hot day you invited kalim for a walk around scarabia. beyond the dorm, away from all the glamorous things.

kalim didn't complain one bit and went along without much fuss, happily even if you might add.

the sun shines down at you harshly. the weather in the desert here sure is unrelenting. you wipe the sweat off your forehead. feeling the crunch of the sand beneath your feet.

the boy isn't too far behind you, taking animatedly as you nod along.

"that reminds me! your birthday is coming up." at that, your eyebrows raise. you still can't keep the heartwarming smile off your face at the mere fact that he knows, and remembers.

you smile at him kindly. kalim flushes at the beam. "where did you hear that from?" you question absent-mindedly enjoying the walk despite the great struggle the heat brought you.

because goddamn was it hot in here!

kalim falls into step beside you. "I asked the grandmaster for it."

more like basically forced. but he doesn't know that.

he continues, "what would you like? anything you want! I'll give it to you." kalim grins. there's no doubt whatever he's saying is nothing but the truth, he has the power to get anything you ask.

you feel embarrassed at the thought that clouds your mind. one word.

you.

at your silence kalim tilts his head. "what's the matter? if you need more time to think it's alright!" he reaches out and clasps your hands together, further flustering you.

you gulp. "I just... I really want you, you and your heart." you slap yourself on the head in your mind cause god did that sound cliche.

you tense at the frozen kalim. only staying still when he breaks into this, love struck, goofy grin and giggles. he all but practically throws himself onto you in a tight embrace.

"you already do!"

ㅤ

clarifications

I've been practically dead but don't blame me I've been stressed & sick fr

after this I'm probably gonna be dead again BYE HOMIES

anyways for cater's part it's him basically being there for mc, like not just present but there.. yknow... idk if you get what I'm saying LOL

so like picture this, you're going thru a hard time and there's a shoulder to lean on which is cater. WHICH I ALSO REALIZED OMG HE DID GAVE US A SHOULDER TO LEAN ON LITERALLY WKAJSKJA

B4 you say lilia's part didn't even include the whole romance thing I just thought it'd be sweet if I incorporated his lil' family in it

so while you might not think it's a lilia x reader it really is, I'm just showing the parts that'll get lilia to love you. especially if you're doting on his babies!!

ngl reader in lilia's... I lowkey thought they were a grandma when I was building their character

'I would love with you' is loosely based off two parents loving their children lmao idk what I'm saying. anyways j hope you spotted it, lilia taking care of silver + you taking care of sebek = loving them (platonically)

draft for epel's was actually like. since rook appeared out of nowhere I wanted reader to be startled and slip off, epel actually saving them just like he said. (with his noodle arms.) you're free to imagine it! but if you do wanna see me write that just hit me up in my inbox and I'll write an alternative scenario 🤫

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eroseas · 1 year

Text

eventually. [ellie williams] 1/5

pairing: ellie/fem!reader

word count: 1.4k

cw: not proofread.

tags: n/a

an: hey.... im new here. practically scarfed down every ellie x reader fic i could find. enjoy, mis amores. no smut yet but it'll happen, so let's keep it 18+ please.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

It’s not particularly unheard of, being able to lie and being able to be good at it.

You’re not sure why or how you managed to avoid the questions about your past, about where you came from. But you know, ever since you got adopted by Dina into this merry band of misfits, that someone has been watching you. More precisely, you know Ellie’s been watching, and waiting, oh-so patiently, to figure you out. It's as unnerving as it is amusing.

Transferring from your hometown’s university to this new one in a new city wasn't even the hardest part. Uprooting your life and leaving everything you had? That was a breeze. A walk in the park, even. Making friends, though? Trusting people enough to let them get close? A toughie. You didn't want to just dump your life story onto these people you didn't know. You cut yourself off everytime you mentioned your parents, smiling tight-lipped and awkward when Dina and Jesse gave you a sympathetic look. Ellie would observe you quietly, her eyebrows furrowed as if trying to solve a puzzle. You try not to think too much about how persistent she is.

(She’ll figure you out. Eventually.)

You give new details every now and then, like how you used to play volleyball, or how you and your ex-girlfriend used to hide in the local mall till way after it closed. It’s nights like that when everyone seems more comfortable, like you're opening up to them, which you are, but not enough to really say they know you well. You try, though. Ellie never stops being observant, especially when you mention your ex, but you try to be forthcoming.

It’s been five or so months since you first arrived in the city, a cozy little collegetown that is every lesbian’s dream. There are cafes on pretty much every street; one in particular is your usual choice. It’s where you go to hide from Dina’s persistent gaze, begging you to go out with them if only for a night. It’s not exactly your vibe, and you tell her as much, but she insists it must be because it’s Ellie’s vibe, too. Dina, more than anyone, likes to say that you and Ellie are the most alike and the most opposite. If Ellie likes a place, you usually do, too. You’ll never be caught dead going somewhere Ellie wouldn’t. But then again, Ellie has a fascination with space, but your special interest is the ocean. Ellie likes 80s jams and you prefer indie. Ellie likes Cat, and you– Well. You don’t.

It’s not anything crazy, really, you just are very indifferent to her. Whether or not you’ll admit to it, Ellie is attractive, objectively speaking. You might have a bit of a crush. Nothing more. Cat is a nice girl, a good artist, and a lovely companion, you’re sure. Seeing them so cozy just leaves a sour taste in your mouth, which is why–

“Yeah, I think I’ll pass.” You mumble, glancing over at Cat who is draped over Ellie’s shoulder. Jesse pauses, following your gaze, and snorts. It’s not a big secret you have an interest in Ellie. You’re human, for fucks sake. So, it’s not a surprise that Jesse and Dina eventually caught on.

“Yeah, well, Dina says you can’t bail this time. Birthday girl privileges and all that.”

You sigh, becoming increasingly annoyed. It’s fair, you know, for Dina to pull the “It’s my birthday!” card. Plus, you have bailed more times than you care to remember, and okay, yeah, maybe it’d be nice to dress up and drink and dance–

“Yeah, whatever. I’ll go.”

Your utter defeat is followed by Jesse cheering, fist pumped into the air. Dina hurries over, her hands full of caffeinated beverages. Ellie looks up from her journal to see what’s going on. You catch her eye, but turn towards Dina before the air gets sucked out of your lungs from looking at her too long.

“She said yes, didn’t she? Oh, thank fucking God, I knew she would!” She squeals, placing down the cups and clapping her hands. She barrels into you soon after, wrapping her arms around your neck, and you wrap one of your own around her waist, steadying her.

“Yeah, yeah,” you smile, your chin tucked over her shoulder, “I’m the best, no doubt.”

She pulls back, and drops a big kiss on your cheek, leaning on you. Ellie watches, entranced seemingly, and eyes your hand that is flush against Dina’s waist. You watch her, a fluttering in your stomach at the interest. She meets your eyes after a moment, raising an eyebrow at you, her cheeks a very pale pink. A small smirk dances on your lips, and you vaguely register that you’re pleased.

That’s new.

After some time, everyone disperses and heads to their own apartments. You and Ellie are actually neighbors, and you are especially relieved that Cat decided to head back to her own home instead of following after Ellie. You both walk towards the building, your hand wrapped around the shoulder strap to your bag, the sun setting behind you both.

“So,” Ellie says, cutting into the silence, looking over at you, “Finally decided to join us, did ya?”

You glance over at her, noticing the amused grin on her lips, the crinkles near her eyes. You huff out a breath, smiling back.

“Well, can’t say no to the birthday girl, can I?”

She hums in agreement, nodding her head. There’s not much you two talk about very frequently; Cat isn’t the biggest fan of letting Ellie out of arm's reach and it’s not like you two are close enough to just hang out by yourselves. You both need that buffer; the excuse of a group setting. Soon, you hope that changes, but can’t realistically see that happening. She clears her throat, suddenly nervous.

“Listen, I told the others, but I thought you should know, too.” She pauses, her pace slowing, and you slow with her. Your eyebrows furrow, and you look at her with concern. She twists her fingers, a nervous habit, and lets out a breath. You follow the motion, then meet her eyes. She offers a small, timid grin.

“I dumped Cat before we all left the cafe.”

You still. It must be true; Ellie and Cat had disappeared right before the group had left the building. You figured, of course, that they must’ve been saying their goodbyes privately, as to not flaunt their love. You nod in realization, tilting your head side to side, trying not to scream “finally!” right in Ellie’s face.

“I’m sorry about that,” you say instead, though you’re not really sorry at all, because Cat was definitely a bit much at times, even without your little crush on Ellie. She shrugs in response, chuckling a little.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about. Figured it was about time.”

Could say that again.

“Yeah, well, I don’t know you all that well,” you say, resuming your walk with her, your eyes moving to look forward instead of at her. “I didn’t wanna overstep. Didn’t seem like you were all that happy half the time, but then again, the fuck do I know?”

Ellie hums again in response, choosing not to say anything as you both start making your way into the apartment complex. You start climbing the stairs, Ellie following close behind, and this is when she decides to speak.

“I get it, but I figured we could change that.” The statement makes you miss a step, because you know, deep down, that getting to know Ellie more is dangerous territory. That it’s everything you want, and probably not the best idea. Ellie is… charming. Enticing. Hot as fuck. Being friends with her would make your feelings more real, and while it makes you sick, it excites you, too.

Ellie’s arms shoot out so she can grab your hips, pulling you back before you eat shit on the stairs. She steps up one, her chest against the back of your shoulder, her fingertips pressing into your skin. You swallow, then let out a harsh breath through your nose, the adrenaline from almost falling and the fact that Ellie is grabbing you so tight and close almost too much to bear.

“You alright?” She murmurs, her voice a gentle rumble. Your ears burn up, and you nod. Ellie’s hands slip away from your hips and you take the last few steps, leaning against the door of your apartment. Ellie follows suit, but stands closer to her own door, right across from yours.

“I’m peachy,” you finally reply, smiling tight lipped. Ellie snorts, nodding.

“I’ll see you at the club, yeah?”

You nod, suddenly dreading it.

“Definitely.”

#ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams fanfic #eventually; elliesquerida #tlou fic #ೃ⁀➷; eroseas writes

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zestrya · 1 year

Text

Siblings Rivalry

The Kamisato siblings were nothing less than perfect, or at least, that's what the rumours around the college said, by now you were aware that one should never trust such rumours mindlessly, especially since after being stuck between the Kamisato siblings themselves a number of times, you were now sure that their "perfection" was nothing but a rumour that people senseless spread.

pairing:: ayaka kamisato x gn!reader; ayato kamisato x gn!reader

cw:: none; colege!au, fluff.

notes:: have been with this idea rotting on my head for months now, grr, but ayaka gave me strength to post it now.

Ayato and Ayaka

— one would say they got along well, quite like a perfect family

— but those who knew the both of them for a bit longer would know that couldn't be farther from the truth

— being the type to argue over petty things, the both of them could be considered to be insufferable (by thomas's words)

— you on the other hand would rather say that they were simply... annoying

— usually they make both you and thoma pick sides, fuming in rage if you both try to keep things balanced

— ayaka choose you the strawberry frappe, but you'd much rather have the unnecessarily expensive expresso ayato recommended, wouldn't you? choose a latte, the mildness could be a nice change of pace

— ayato invited you to a business party, but oh my, ayaka's concert is on the very same day! actually you have a group project reunion that day, so sorry

— honestly, at times you just wished they wouldn't make things so much bigger than they actually are

— still, when you end up having to actually choose one side, be sure to make up to the other later, okay? or else they'll sulk for a whole week and it can be quite the headache

— they have a very good team work though

— years of playing pretend did make them learn about it better than anyone

—they're very good at keeping their potential rivals at bay by maintaining your schedule packed full

— when that doesn't work they can just make threats with a polite smile, scarily enough, it always seem to work

— but even with all that they're really good friends

— they try to make you feel at ease with them even if your upbringing is different from theirs

— if you ever feel burdened to accompany them to a party, they'll be sure to not insist

— instead, why don't you recommend them a place where the three of you could go together?

— ayato and ayaka will do anything in their power to make you feel better, and with the kamisato in their name, believe me, there's not much they can't do

— the siblings care greatly for both your wellbeing, so let them take care everything, won't you?

Ayaka Kamisato

— the sweet himegimi of the kamisato clan

— the very definition of purity, many may say

— you also believed in it before you got to know her for what she is

— your first encounter with her was with a theater piece you were participating under venti's urging

— “i won't let them use my work unless you participate as my muse” his smile gave away how amused he felt with the situation, even when he despised the thought of sharing works about you with someone else

— with much arguing venti let you off the hook of acting as a protagonist, instead playing the protagonist attendant

— the kamisato would play your original role instead, acting as your master and the center of the stage

—she helped you during all of the trainings with immense patience, you even felt bad for her

— but she was enjoying it far more than acting alone as usual, it was like having a real friend for the first time

— the training went by fast and when it finally came to the show day you felt as if you'd panic

— but then ayaka, like the saviour she was, took you hands in her and saying you'd do good and to just look at her if you, didn't know what to do

— and it surprisingly worked, the kamisato covered for your every mistake with perfection and no one seemed to notice

— after this you thought you'd never see her again, after all she was one of the most popular girls around the college

— but one day you just found her waiting for you in front of you class, deep blush painting her expression as she asked if you wanted to be friends with her

— heart attack! the only response you could offer was a quick nod, being as flustered as her

— when you accepted, she took your hands with the brightest smile you'd ever seen, quickly dragging you to get acquainted with her other friends

— she was still quite shy even after months of friendship, but she was surprisingly clingy with you

— everyone warmed up to you quite quickly, especially thoma, who instantly understood that his best friend may have a little crush on you

— days with her lean more on the calming side, her attitude reminding you of a curious kitten at times

— you get reminded really often of how she made part of a higher class of sorts whenever she was amazed by a simple coffee downtown or some hobbies of yours

— that however was kinda cute, since she was always eager to try anything with you

— thoma always tried to help the girl with her helpless flirting skills, setting up dates or ways to make her earn some points with you

— expect lots of hot pot parties upon thoma's urging, all of them who end in a sleepover on one of your houses

— but your obliviousness made the both of them speechless

— she'd invite you to every single show she was participating, at times even inviting you to watch her brother model and badmouth him

— she was really happy to just spend time beside you, but please, notice her intentions quickly

— she may not be able to maintain her perfect facade for long if you start to spend much more time with those she acknowledge as rivals

— and honestly, she fears so much you'd disapprove of her after she argues with someone you're friends with

— for now though, she'll be happy enough with hand feeding you with the highest class cakes and pastries she bought especially for you

Ayato Kamisato

— you wonder to this day how you even got friends with him

— you got acquainted with him considerably later than with ayaka, with reason too

— he's in his last year of political science, a major quite know for the growing animosity between it's students

— he got interested in you after he saw his own little sister wandering too much around someone, a little curiosity of sorts

— he dropped by one of your hot pot parties by chance to talk with thoma

— but the way his eyes sized you up the whole time he was there gave his intention away, that is, for ayaka and thoma at least

— being too intimidated by his presence you didn't even dare to look at his face the whole time

— after that uncomfortable first meeting you could only hope he wouldn't come to you, demanding you would get out of ayaka's life

— however the older kamisato head seemed to function in strange ways

— the next day he just appeared in front of the college with a luxury car, saying he wanted to talk with you

— you know, like a mafia boss

— and of course, you, scared shitless, ran like your life depended on it, leaving an utterly confused ayato there

— fortunately the misunderstandings were solved the next day while thoma poked fun at you for your reaction

— the friendship between you bloomed quite easily, as, despite his appearance, ayato was the friendly kind

— however he, differently from ayaka, couldn't seem to hide his diamond spoon nature

— if ayaka's curiosity for new things was cute, ayato's felt condescending

— he'd spew shit like "oh, so that's what common people usually eat"

— excuse me, sir? he said such things as if he didn't mix the most disgusting things into his drink daily

— though ayaka saw him as a rival, he wouldn't say he loves you, yk, like a liar

— dude has been seeking you out the whole day with that dumb lovestruck gaze of his

— also, the way he'd just nonchalantly give you expensive gifts at if it was nothing

— “it just made me remember of you, nothing much” this diamond encrusted locket that cost at least 7 months of a normal wage worker..? sure, if you say so

— honestly, man's whipped, he's just afraid to admit it

— don't take him wrong though, he'll try to pursue and do things right, just wait until he can calm his mind down first

— also, please, let ayato spoil you, he's not that good phrasing his affection for you, so intead let him show you off otherwise

— dressing you prettily/handsomely and taking you to a dinner night

— talking about unimportant things until the break of dawn

— he's way too fond of your presence, too bad you can't seem to notice it, don't worry though, for he has enough patience

— and otherwise, some dirty tricks to keep you bound to the kamisato's could work too

#genshin headcanons #kamisato ayaka #genshin ayaka #ayaka x reader #kamisato ayato #genshin ayato #ayato x reader #kamisato siblings #— zestrya's writing

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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

Text

Swedish Fish

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: at an awards show where you and Tom are nominated for a lot of awards together, you poke fun at the rumors about your relationship

Masterlist

“Hello!” A journalist greeted you and Tom as you approached her on the red carpet of a low stakes award show. “You two are looking amazing.”

“Thank you.” You beamed, feeling the excitement of the night settle in with your first interview.

“Thanks so much.” Tom nodded in appreciation as he rested his hand on your back.

“So you two are nominated for quite a few awards tonight. How are you feeling? Nervous? Excited?” The journalist asked before holding her microphone out to the two of you.

“I’m really excited to be here. I’m more excited to be Y/n’s date, though. Look at her in this dress.” Tom stepped back so the camera could get a better look at your long red dress. “She’s better than any award.”

“Stop it. I don’t want to be flushed in the interviews.” You leaned against him as you briefly buried your face in his neck to hide your blush.

“Aw.” The journalist pouted at the camera. “So you two came here together?”

“We did. Almost all our nominations are together so it seemed like the right thing to do.” You explained as you kept one hand resting on Tom’s shoulder.

“That was my excuse for why I asked her.” Tom joked. “I really did it because I wanted to make everyone jealous that I had the prettiest date.”

“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes. “He just wanted me as his date because he knows I bring snacks.”

“You brought snacks?” The journalist laughed into the microphone.

“I did.” You nodded excitedly. “I have like 6 types of candy in my bra. I have cookies and chocolate in my purse. You don’t even want to know where I’m hiding a granola bar.”

“I really want to know now.” The journalist raised her eyebrows at you.

“I’ll find out later and let you know.” Tom winked and you smacked him playfully.

“It’s the Nature Valley kind though so I’m scared to eat it.” You laughed. “They’re so crumbly.”

“Maybe you can step outside and eat it. Like a little snack break.” The journalist suggested.

“I could. I’ll do it during one of the boring speeches.” You joked.

“Who’s speech would you leave during?” The journalist asked you.

“Probably Tom’s.” You stated and he nodded along it humor you.

“Yeah. I tend to ramble.” He shrugged, making you laugh.

“Alright well I’ll let you guys get to the rest of the carpet.” The journalist said. “Thank you for chatting.”

“Thank you! Enjoy the night.” You waved goodbye to her as Tom picked up the train of your dress to make walking easier.

“She didn’t ask if we were a couple.” He whispered in your ear as you posed in front of the photographers.

“Are you upset that she didn’t?” You laughed as you looked at him.

“Frankly, I’m a little offended.” He said through a smile while keeping his eyes straight ahead.

“Don’t be. I’m sure we’ll get asked soon enough.” You told him. As far as the public was concerned, you and Tom were just friends. After being nominated for multiples joint awards for your performance as a couple in Far From Home, you had made a plan to tease the media if you won in an attempt to get them to stop asking if you were together.

“They better.” He grumbled in your ear before the both of you laughed.

He kept his hand on your back as you walked to the next journalist, the train of your dress in his other hand.

“Hi!” The journalist smiled happily at you as you stopped in front of him.

“Hello!” You matched his energy with a bright smile.

“Hey. How are you?” Tom asked politely.

“I’m doing well, thank you.” He nodded. “You two have quite a buzz around you tonight. Apparently you’re the couple to watch.”

“Any couple that’s half Tom Holland is a couple to watch. Haven’t you heard of Gyllenholland?” You raised an eyebrow and laughed.

“But that’s a bromance.” The journalist protested. “This seems more like a romance, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Unfortunately, we’re not together. There’s just something about me that he doesn’t like.” You sighed dramatically and looked away, making Tom and the journalist laugh.

“It’s the face. I can’t get past it.” Tom played along as he squished your cheeks between his fingers.

“So you’re really not a couple?” He asked as if he didn’t believe you. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Nope. Just friends.” You shook your head.

“Best friends.” Tom grinned at you before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“You two are adorable.” The journalist commented. “And you’re nominated for a lot of awards together tonight, aren’t you?”

“We are. And that’s the way it should be. I think people enjoyed our movie as much as they did because of what we created together. It was a two person job and I’m glad it’s being acknowledged as such.” You answered honestly, making Tom’s heart soar.

“Not all of the nominations are for the both of us, though.” Tom brought up. “Y/n is nominated for best actress. And guess who’s presenting that award?” He smiled proudly.

“That’s right! Congratulations.” The journalist praised you.

“Thank you. I’m really grateful for all the nominations.”

“I’m so proud of her. I can’t wait to give you that award later.” Tom looked at you fondly.

“If I win.” You reminded him.

“Of course you’ll win.” He scoffed. “I voted for you everyday.”

“Thank you.” You rested your head on his shoulder momentarily to thank him for his support.

“So if you do win one of the joint awards, who gets to take it home?” The journalist asked you.

“We’ll just have to win them both I guess.” Tom shrugged playfully.

“I hope you do.” The journalist smiled. “I’ll see you guys out there. Good luck.”

“Thank you.” Tom shook his hand before leading you towards the entrance of the building.

“Should we find our seats?” You asked him as you checked your lipstick in a compact mirror.

“Yeah. Let’s go.” He nodded before taking your hand and walking with you inside.

An hour later after a few performances and wards had been given out, it was time for you and Tom to present an award. You nervously chewed your bottom lip as you waited for your cue, going over your prepared speech in your head.

“You ready?” You whispered to Tom, sensing he was as nervous as you were.

“I’m never ready to read, especially not in front of thousands of people on live television.” He laughed nervously. You gave him an assuring smile as rubbed his back to calm him down.

“Hey, if you can’t make out a word, just squeeze my hand. I’ll help you out.” You told him. Tom smiled back and slipped his hand into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“We haven’t started yet.” You laughed at his action.

“I know.” He shrugged. “I just wanted to hold your hand.”

Before you could respond, a man with a headset came up to you and gave you a thumbs up.

“You’re on in three, two…”

“Hello everyone. We are here to present the nominees for best actor in a horror film.” Tom announced into his microphone. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to see any of these films because the ticket guy always thought I was a child.” He feigned a sad face, making the audience laugh. Their positive response calmed your nerves as you held your own microphone up.

“But don’t worry. I made sure I explained the plot to him once I got home.” You added.

“Only two of them made me wet the bed.” Tom read off the prompter, one of the lines he and you hadn’t written yourself. He made a face that you couldn’t help but laugh at, calming you even further.

“I can’t believe you read that line.” You laughed into your mic.

“I know. Who wrote that?” He wondered and the audience laughed along.

“Tonight, Tom and I are nominated for Best Onscreen Couple.” You continued. “Our chemistry on screen has left a lot of people wondering if we’re a dating in real life. We’re not, by the way.”

Tom was quiet for a moment as he blinked in confusion, hesitantly raising his microphone to his lips.

“We’re not?” He asked you as if this was the first he was hearing of it. It wasn’t, of course, as you had rehearsed this many times. Your face fell just like your practiced as the crowd laughed.

“No, we’re not.” You answered him flatly.

“I just - I thought we were.” His eyes darted around as he played dumb.

“Tom. We talked about this.” You said out of the corner of your mouth.

“But…but we make out all the time.” He said and the audience erupted with laughter. “Like what about that time in your trailer?”

“That was strictly platonic.” You shrugged.

“And in the elevator?” He asked.

“You had something stuck in your teeth. I was just being a good friend and getting it out.” You smiled smugly as you looked out at the crowd.

“All those times in my car?” He emphasized, making even you laugh.

“I was method acting.” You said simply.

“But - but it was months after production wrapped.” He reminded you, earning some applause as the audience caught on to what you were doing.

“I like to get really deep.” You insisted.

“Oh.” Tom looked at the floor for a moment before snapping into a smile. “And here are tonight’s nominees.”

You paused and let the audience laugh at your bit before reading the nominees off the prompter. Tom put his hand on your back, making you look at him. You smiled widely at your successful joke and he smiled back before taking your hand and giving it a squeeze.

You were sitting in your seats once again, impatiently waiting for the first category you were nominated for to be announced.

“I’m kinda nervous.” Tom leaned over to whisper in your ear among the buzz of the crowd.

“Would bra candy make it better?” You chuckled as you pulled a small Swedish Fish out of your décolletage.

“Has this been on your bare body?” He laughed in disbelief as he took the candy.

“Maybe?” You said sheepishly, looking around for anyone who might overhear.

“I can’t stand you.” His whole body shook with laughter as he popped it in his mouth. “It tastes like how your perfume smells.”

“Really?” You grimaced. “I don’t know how I feel about it.”

“Me either.” He sucked it out of his teeth. “Can I have another piece?”

You shoved his playfully for the bad joke before fishing another out for him.

“Here.” You placed it in the palm of his hands. “Wait, shhh! They’re announcing the winners.”

“This is really chewy.” Tom commented ad he struggled the swallow the candy. You ignored his problem as you excitedly gripped his arm. He continued chewing but managed to slip his hand into yours and clutch it anxiously as the nominees were read.

“And the winners for best onscreen kiss are…Tom Holland and Y/n L/n in Spiderman: Far From Home.”

The audience erupted into applause for the two of you, but all you could hear was Toms incessant chewing.

“Stop chewing. We gotta go.” You giggled as you pulled him out of his seat.

“Mhhhfh hmhph.” He said through a mouthful as he pulled you into a celebratory hug. You held hands on the way up to the podium as the infamous kiss played on the enormous screen. You hugged the presenter before standing in front of the microphone and beaming at the crowd.

“Hi! Thank you so you much for this award. Its always such a huge - - woah.” You trailed off and looked at Tom up and down, gulping loudly into the microphone.

“What’s wrong?” He asked you.

“There’s a lot of sexual tension up here.” You blew out a breath and fanned yourself. “Whew.”

The audience laughed at your bit but you were determined not to break.

“I was about to say.” Tom tweaked his head and rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at you. You both fidgeting with your clothing in an attempt to look busy as you avoiding eye contact.

“Um.” You laughed awkwardly into the microphone and gripped the podium. “What was I talking about?”

“I believe your last word was ‘huge’.” He said weakly, finally making eye contact with you. A chuckle went through the crowd as more caught on to the joke. You held each other’s gaze for a moment before quickly looking away.

“Right.” You nodded. “This is such a huge…a huge… sorry, what’s this award for?” You pretended to wipe sweat of your forehead as you turned around to read the screen.

“I believe it was Best Kiss.” Tom said before taking a deep, dramatic breath. You stared at each other for a long time, the only sound in the room now being your swallow breaths.

“Are we - - are we about to kiss?” You asked through a forced laugh before making your face completely serious. Tom raised his eyebrows before nodding and beginning to lean it. You leaned in to and right before your lips could touch, your heads snapped towards the crowd.

“Thank you so much!” You held up the award with a huge smile. “We love you guys! Thank you!”

This got a much bigger reaction than the last time as people cheered and laughed at your performance.

“That went well.” You gripped Toms sleeve in excitement as you walked back to your seats. “We got a lot of laughs.”

“I got a lot of laughs. You were a little flat.” He teased, pretending to flip hair behind his shoulder as you sat down.

“Mmm. Love you too.” You cupped his chin and narrowed your eyes at him. The actors and singers around you congratulated you on your first win on the night, all saying you got them with the fake out kiss.

The evening continued with an elated cloud over your seating area as you and Tom soaked up the win.

“Is it just me, or are the cameras hovering around us?” He said suddenly, calling your attention to the many cameras pointed in your direction. You waved at one and the camera man waved back.

“Trying to catch a stolen kiss I presume.” You shrugged as you gripped the award.

“Like we’d ruin the surprise.” He scoffed and put his arm around your shoulders. The second award you were nominated for together was next and your leg was already bouncing.

“I’m gonna be more disappointed in not doing our acceptance speech than I’d be in losing if we don’t get this award.” Tom said, practically reading your mind.

“I know.” You squeezed his knee anxiously. “Fingers crossed.”

“Good luck, darling.” He pulled you in closer and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“I don’t need luck when I have the best screen partner in the world.” You raised your eyebrows at him as you leaned into his body. You stayed in that position as Vanessa Hudgens read the nominees.

“And tonight’s winners for Best Onscreen Couple…Tom Holland and Y/n L/n!” She announced with a smile.

“See?” You smirked at Tom as you stood up.

“Guess I should tell you you’re welcome.” He teased as he scooped you into a tight embrace. He gathered the train of your dress in hand and helped you out of the aisle.

“I’m shaking.” You whispered to him as you made your way to the steps of the stage. “I’m gonna fall.”

“I got you, darling. I won’t let you fall.” He said as he took your hand with his free one and helped you up the stairs. You hugged Vanessa tightly once you got to the podium, whispering in her ear about being a fan.

“Thank you so much for this award.” Tom began your rehearsed acceptance speech. “I’ve always wanted to win best couple.”

“Onscreen couple.” You leaned towards the microphone to correct him. He looked at you in confusion but kept a smile on his face.

“What?”

“We won for best onscreen couple.” You pointed behind you. “Not best couple.”

“Oh.” He nodded like he understood. “So what did we win Best Couple for?”

“We didn’t, since we’re not a couple.” You said slowly, bringing back your joke from earlier in the evening. The audience chuckled as Tom made a show of reading the award and the screen behind him.

“Are you sure?” He asked suddenly, as if he didn’t believe you.

“Oh My God.” You groaned as you rubbed your eyes.

“Cause I feel like we are.” He gestured between the two of you. You shrugged a little and scooted closer to him while batting your lashes.

“I mean…do you wanna be?” You feigned shyness as you tucked some hair behind your ear.

“I don’t know.” He fumbled with the buttons on his suit jacket. “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged and looked away. “What do you want to do?”

“I could get my mom to text your mom and they could set something up.” He suggested as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Okay.” You smiled and picked up the award. “Maybe later we could like, you know.”

You shrugged and he laughed shyly.

“Uh Huh.” He nodded eagerly. “Or we could do like whatever.”

“Yeah.” You let out a shaky breath. “Whatever.”

The two of you smiled in appreciation at the crowd before walking off, award tucked in the crook of your elbow and hands intertwined.

“This is the one I’m most excited for.” Tom told you as you waiting for Best Actress to be announced. Tom was the one presenting it, which only made your anxiety spike.

“But it’s just me.” You laughed as you looked at him.

“I know.” He shrugged bashfully. “You don’t need me to win. You’re the real reason people voted for us.”

“You’re just saying that.” You shook your head and put your hand on his bicep.

“Cause it’s true.” He insisted. “You got this.”

“Thanks for voting for me.” You answered sincerely, dragging your fingertips along his cheek.

“How could I not?” He tilted his head before getting tapped by one of the stage assistants. “I gotta go. Good luck.”

He brought your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles before following the assistant backstage.

You ran your hands over the arm rest, wishing Tom was still beside you to calm your nerves. You only had to wait about twenty minutes before Tom walked on stage with the envelope in hand.

“Nice to see you all again.” Tom greeted. “I know it’s strange to see me without my partner in crime, but she’s busy running through her acceptance speech in her head. Have I pissed off all the other Best Actress nominees? I bet I have.” He joked, earning a few laughs.

“Here are tonight’s nominees for Best Actress.”

You clapped for very nominated actress, noticing the wink Tom sent you when your name was displayed on the screen. Finally, it was time to announce the winner.

“And the winner of Best Actress is…” Tom’s eyes flicked up from the card before looking down again. You shut your eyes tightly and it felt like there was no air in the entire room.

“Y/n L/n.”

Your eyes flew open when you heard Tom call your name. You looked at the stage first, seeing him clapping and whistling for you with a proud smile. The people around you congratulating you, patting your back and rubbing your shoulders as you walked towards the stage. Tom had tears in his eyes as he met you at the top of the stairs, helping you stay balanced in your way to the podium. Tom got there first and took the ward off the podium and held it out to you.

“Here you go, baby.” Tom handed you the award.

Before you could take another step, he took your face between his hands and kissed you firmly. He smiled softly at you once he pulled way as you touched your fingertips to your lips in surprise.

He stepped back and let you move towards the microphone, still feeling flustered from the kiss and the win. You looked at the crowd and felt your mind go blank and they roared with applause. You looked over your shoulder at Tom, who gave you an assuring smile and mouthed “go on.” You blew out a breath and turned back to the audience, having a better grasp on what you wanted to say now.

“I can assure you, I was expecting that as much as you were.” You let out a breathy laugh and the audience laughed too.

“Thank you so much for this. This award means a lot to me.” You held up the award to punctuate your sentence. “I went into this movie thinking it would be a great opportunity to do something different than what I’m used to. I certainly didn’t go into this movie thinking I’d meet the love of my life.” You paused and smiled as a hush fell over the crowd. “Tom and I fell in love over scripts and cups of coffee at midnight, so much in love that I’m not sure I deserve this award because I wasn’t acting. Every soft touch and stolen glance, that was just me being in love with my scene partner.”

You stopped and let the audience clap for your statement, looking over your shoulder at Tom before continuing.

“I guess the secrets out now.” You laughed as you shook your head. “We had a running bet on who would accidentally reveal it first. So in addition to the three awards I won tonight, I will be getting twenty dollars.”

You heard Tom chuckling from behind you and felt compelled to finish up so you could hug him.

“All jokes aside, the number one person I want to thank tonight is Tom. I couldn’t have done this without you. And I’d never want to. I hope I spend the rest of my career sneaking Swedish Fish into award shows with you. Thank you.” You held up the award one last time before turning to Tom. He wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you off the ground, spinning you around as he pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek.

“Sorry about that. I couldn’t help myself. I was too proud of you.” He smiled as he set you down. You began to walk backstage together, hand in hand.

“It’s all right.” You assured him. “I always appreciate a romantic gesture.”

Tom stayed quiet as you made your way back to your seats, a strange look troubling his handsome features.

“What is it?” You asked as you sat down again. Tom pursed his lips as a shy smile lit up his face.

“That was the first time you said you loved me.” He said timidly as he scratched behind his ear. Your mouth opened and shut as you found yourself at a loss for words. In the excitement of the moment, you hadn’t even realized you admitted your real feelings for him. You’d only been dating two months and while you loved him whole heartedly, you had never had the guts to tell him. Tom looked at you expectingly as he awaited your answer. Knowing there was no going back, you shrugged it off.

“Well I do.” You said finally, making his smile grow. “Is that all right?”

“Is that all right?” He laughed and took your hand in his, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “Yeah. That’s all right.”

“Good. Because I do love you.” You leaned into him and rubbed your nose against his. He scrunched his nose as you made contact, still holding tightly to your hand.

“I love you too.” He said for the first time, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. “Congratulations, darling.”

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mjolnir-steve · 3 years

Text

Foolish

Frank Adler x fem!Reader

Word count: 5027 (oop)

Warnings: light drinking, very brief mention of suicide, some cursing, smut (18+ ONLY!!!), unprotected sex (m/f) ... Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Hi, y’all! Here’s my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817’s Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge!!!! I haven’t written smut in a LONG time, so please be gentle with me LOL. Here’s what I got:

Frank Adler

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

Breeding / mutual pining 🥴

I’d like to dedicate this to @rodrikstark for always sharing the Frank Adler feels and @sparkledfirecracker for bullying me (with love) into finishing this. ❤️

If you like this fic, please comment and reblog!!! I hope you enjoy. :)

Fridays never seemed to come soon enough. You looked forward to the beginning of the weekend as much as the next person, but over the last few months, Friday nights took on new meaning for you. You moved to the trailer park a little less than a year ago, wanting to buy a small place of your own and start making a home for yourself. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t expensive, and it was only a ten-minute drive from your office where you’d just secured a promotion. Roberta, the manager, helped you make it feel like home right away, insisting on going with you to pick out paint samples and providing copies of menus for the best take-out in the area.

Before long, Roberta introduced you to the trailer park’s resident certified genius, Mary Adler. Mary and Roberta spent Saturday mornings with you when you were free, which unfortunately, was pretty much all the time. You played games, sang karaoke, and even let Mary’s one-eyed cat Fred come over. He took a liking to your swinging chair in the living room, and if Mary couldn’t find him at home, odds were he somehow squeezed through your window and ended up in that chair.

Another two months had passed, though, before you met Mary’s uncle and guardian, Frank. You came to learn that Mary stayed with Roberta every Friday night because “Frank needs time to be an adult” and she was not allowed to come back to the house until noon on Saturdays. This information made you feel like Frank must be some kind of sad, perpetual fuckboy. You were right about the sad part, not so much about the latter. One morning while Mary played with your watercolors, Roberta let slip - ironically over a cup of tea - that Frank did have the occasional hookup, but usually, he drank himself sleepy on Friday nights and just needed the time to himself. He worked himself to the bone as a boat mechanic, often late into the night because it was too hot to do some jobs during the day. Frank took Mary in when she was just a baby after his sister, her mother, tragically committed suicide. He spent the majority of his scarce free time with Mary, so when Mary was still a toddler, Roberta offered the Friday night deal. Frank countered that he would do any repairs in the trailer park for free, but she refused to let him do that work without pay, saying he deserved to have a life, too.

She also informed you that Frank was a former philosophy professor, single, and very attractive, especially if you were into the rugged thing. You rolled your eyes with an amused exhale and took another sip of your tea. You’d be lying if you said your interest wasn’t piqued. Mary then shouted over her shoulder, confirming that she’d been listening to your entire conversation, “Frank is great, but he’s a grump. Good luck cracking that egg.” You snorted, nearly spitting out your tea, and she went back to reading your color theory book to Fred.

With that, you heard a sharp rap at the door. You set your tea down on the kitchen table, curious who your visitor might be. You didn’t know anyone else in the trailer park, or in town, really. You opened the door, taking in the sight of possibly - no, definitely - the most handsome man you’d ever seen. You quickly guessed it was Frank, judging by the grease smeared on his quite large hands. His eyes, though tired, had the same bright look as Mary’s, and he had the most perfectly imperfect fluffy hair and overgrown stubble.

“Good morning,” he said with a sweet, closed-mouthed smile. “Is Mary here?”

You had to remind yourself to breathe. Stammering, you opened the door wider, gesturing inside. “Hi, y-yes. She is!” Why am I like this? “She’s just painting with Fred. Please, come in.” You moved aside so he could fit his broad shoulders through the doorframe and then held out your hand. “You must be Frank. I’m Y/N. Mary is just wonderful.” You smiled at him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

He took your hand in both of his, gentler than you’d expected. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m Frank. It’s great to meet you, finally.” He smiled wide for the first time and you were certain you’d pass out. Who LOOKS like this? “And thank you, she really is wonderful. I couldn’t do it without Roberta. She’s family.” He smiled and waved at Roberta, who was looking at you over the lip of her mug.

Mary didn’t even bother to turn around and face Frank. “What are you doing here, Frank? It’s only 11. I have a whole ‘nother hour with my friends.” You tried to keep your laugh quiet, covering your mouth with your hand and shaking your head.

“Well, excuse me for thinking you might like to go out on the boat with me this morning. I guess I’ll go by myself.”

Mary jumped up from the floor, scrambling to clean up your paints and books. “Can Y/N and Roberta come?”

Frank crouched down to meet Mary’s eyes. “Of course they can, if they’d like.” He looked back at you over his shoulder, trying to gauge your interest, then turning back to his niece. “But do you remember what I told you?”

You could see that Mary was making a conscious effort not to roll her eyes. “You told me that my adult friends have adult lives that include adult responsibilities, and they might not always be available to spend time with me.”

“And?” he looked at her expectantly.

“And I need to invite them to do things without assuming they will do them.” She couldn’t hold back her eye roll any longer, but she made sure not to let Frank see. “Roberta, Y/N, would you both like to join us on the boat today?”

You were amazed by the exchange taking place in front of you, able to see where some of Mary’s brains and tenacity came from. The conversation between the two flowed so easily, playful yet intelligent. It was clear that Frank treated Mary not as a child, but as a person, and you chided yourself internally for thinking that was kinda hot.

Shaking yourself out of your mildly inappropriate thoughts, you responded. “I’d love to come, Mary.” You smiled at her, bending over to help her pick up the last of the paints from the floor. “Roberta?”

Roberta gave you a look and you just knew she planned this somehow. “I actually do have some of those adult responsibilities to handle today, but thank you for inviting me.” You sent a glare in her direction, quick but no less scathing. “Maybe next time.” She winked at you before washing out her mug and saying her goodbyes.

You spent the whole rest of the day and night with Frank and Mary, doing everything from building sandcastles to cooking dinner together. Mary eventually fell asleep in your lap as you were watching Oliver & Company, Frank’s favorite Disney film that had become Mary’s, too. “An underrated classic,” they told you in unison.

You helped Frank put Mary to bed, a task made easier after such a tiring day. “I guess I should get going.” You stood awkwardly in the small kitchen, unsure of yourself and painfully aware of how close your hand was to Frank’s resting on the counter.

“Yeah, I have a job early in the morning.” He looked down at his shoes, unable to look you in the eye, and you wondered if he hadn’t found your company as enjoyable as you’d found his.

“Listen, I don’t know if you’ve been to Ferg’s? The little bar down the road? I go every Friday night just to relax and have a few beers. Maybe you’d like to come with me next weekend?”

Is he asking me on a date? You could feel your heartbeat racing. The look on your face must not have matched the excitement you felt at the prospect of spending time alone with the dreamy, kind, sarcastic man in front of you.

He felt like an idiot when you hesitated to answer. He clearly read everything wrong. He had to fix this. “It’s a good place to meet people, you know? I know you’re fairly new to the area, so if you’re looking for more local friends, it’s a good place to start.” He winced, hoping you couldn’t sense his embarrassment at thinking that you would want to go on a date with him.

You swallowed, trying not to let your disappointment show outwardly. Of course he’s not interested in me. Stupid. “Oh, yeah! That would be great, Frank. What time?”

Frank let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, relieved that you didn’t seem offended by his offer. “How’s 7? I’ll pick you up? We can walk over together.”

And that’s how Fridays came to mean so much to you. Almost every Friday for the last six months, Frank met you at your door and you walked to Ferg’s together. Frank told you it would be a good place to make new friends, but you paid no mind to the other patrons. You only had eyes for each other, yet neither of you could see it, even though Roberta pointed out (repeatedly) that neither of you had taken anyone else home in all that time.

The more time you spent with Frank, the more certain you were that God was real and your life was His favorite trainwreck reality TV series. Even if you could have customized a dream man Build-A-Bear style, Frank still would blow your creation out of the water. He was smart and funny, not to mention an adoring parent to Mary, to whom you grew more attached each day. He was kind and thoughtful, talented and hard-working. Although he was a grouch, as Mary would say, he always was sweet to you. He took a genuine interest in anything you had to say, whether you were venting about work or filling him on the latest episode of whatever show you were binging. He was ridiculously sexy without even trying. All those hours he spent doing manual labor in the sun did wonders for his physique. You’d only seen him completely shirtless on one occasion, and the image of him with sweat dripping down his chest was burned into your memory, fueling your late-night thots and causing you to break out your vibrator on what was now a regular basis.

Six months had come and gone in the blink of an eye, and you’d begun to accept that Frank didn’t want to be anything more than friends with you. You decided tonight was as good a night as any to talk to someone new, to start letting go of your unrequited feelings.

You swapped out your usual jeans for a sundress, t-shirt bra for a push-up, and lip balm for lipstick. Putting your phone and some cash in a wristlet, you considered wearing your new strappy sandals. The walk to Ferg’s was about five minutes each way down a sandy road, though, and memories of the sticky floor inside aided your preferred pair of Converse in their victory for the night.

Just as you finished tying your shoes, you heard a knock at the door. You adjusted your cleavage and fluffed your hair a final time with one last look in the mirror. Here goes.

Frank felt like he had the wind knocked out of him in the best possible way. He suddenly felt entirely underdressed in his aloha shirt, even though it was his go-to for nights out of the house. He’d never seen you dressed so nicely when you weren’t going to work.

You were the kind of beautiful that didn’t require makeup. Your natural hair always framed your face perfectly, even if you didn’t think so. He thought you were adorable when you were concentrating on something, blowing your hair out of your face with a huff. Visions of your soft curves made their way into Frank’s dreams on more than one occasion. He had seen you in your swimsuit several times, sunbathing with Roberta and swimming with Mary at the beach. It wasn’t even all that revealing, but it accentuated your figure in ways that forced Frank into needing a cold shower or two. Above all, though, he admired your heart. You’d allowed Mary into your life without hesitation, spending time with her because you wanted to and allowing her to ask all those questions that Frank just wouldn’t be able to answer. It killed him that you didn’t see him the way he saw you, a perfect partner for him and a worthy maternal figure for Mary.

“Frank? You okay?” Your concerned voice shook him out of his thoughts, prompting him to close his mouth which apparently had opened wide in astonishment when you stood in the doorway.

“Yeah, um... You look…” He looked a little confused, his brow furrowed and lips pursed. “Why are you all dolled up? It’s only Ferg’s.” He wished he could’ve kicked himself in the teeth when your face fell at his question. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Shit. Let me try that again,” he nearly begged, running up to you to stop you from going back inside. “You look really nice, honey.” He ran his calloused hand up your forearm, but quickly returned it to his side when he realized what he’d done. “Is it a special occasion, though? Should I change?”

You gave him a watery smile, given that you were three seconds from slamming the door in his face and crying. “That’s better. Thank you.” You lightly pushed at his shoulder, trying and failing to ignore the electricity you felt at the contact. “No occasion, though. Just thought maybe it was about time I actually introduced myself to someone new.”

You couldn’t quite read his reaction. Little did you know he was certain he just felt his heart physically crack in his chest. “What do you mean?”

The two of you started walking, the tension between you thickening the very air you breathed. “Well, when you first invited me to Ferg’s, you said maybe I’d get to know some other people in the area, right? But we’re always with each other. I’m sure you’re itching to talk to someone other than me. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Ah. Gotcha.” Frank abruptly reverted to the quiet, distant state he usually occupied before he met you. He sped up a bit, walking ahead of you and desperately attempting to school his features before you caught up with him.

Frank practically ran to the restroom, not slowing down even to hold the door open for you. You took a deep breath and rolled your shoulders, relaxing before entering the bar. Normally, whoever made it first would order drinks for you both, but Frank made it painfully clear that he had no desire to be in your company tonight. You ordered your usual, an Angry Orchard with a shot of Fireball in a tall glass. The combination tasted like apple cider, but the burn in your throat was caused by liquor rather than heat. It was strong enough to get you buzzed, but not so strong that you’d be stumbling home. You swallowed half the glass in one gulp, wanting to feel the warmth in your veins boosting your confidence as quickly as possible.

“Y/N? How are you?” You turned around, eyes meeting those of Jamie, your coworker. He leaned in for a hug and you accepted somewhat reluctantly, having interacted with him only in passing.

“Hey! I’m all right. What’s up?” You smiled at him, taking another sip of your drink. Jamie was not very subtly staring at your chest. You weren’t crazy about him, but the attention felt nice, so you allowed it.

“Not much. Just happy it’s Friday, ya know?” He looked around for a moment before returning his attention to you. “You’re usually here with that mechanic dude, right?”

You stifled a laugh thinking about how Frank would react if he heard himself referred to as “dude” by this prick. “Yeah, he’s around somewhere. We’re just-“

“-Just friends?” he finished for you with a hopeful look.

You nodded in response, looking him up and down. He was no Frank, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome. It had been so long since you’d even been kissed, and though you hated to admit it, you were touch-starved. One night couldn’t hurt, could it?

Meanwhile, Frank was splashing his face with cool water. He couldn’t believe he’d fucked up so royally. He was sure you didn’t want him how he wanted you, and now he was sure it was too late to tell you how he really felt.

He knew from the moment he saw you that he’d never get you out of his head. Roberta had been talking you up to Frank for weeks, but he wanted no part of it, mumbling something about there being “a reason why no one used matchmakers anymore.” He had no choice but to make your acquaintance when he was looking for Mary, and he’d never been so happy that Roberta could say she told him so.

Later that day at the beach, Mary approached him while you were dozing on a towel in the sand. She sat on his lap and reached for his face, using her pointer fingers to turn the straight line of his mouth up into a smile. “Roberta says you have a ‘charming’ smile, Frank. We think you should use it more.” He chuckled quietly, careful not to disturb you, and pulled Mary in close, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. She grimaced at the feeling, dramatically wiping at her face until he let her go back to reading with Fred.

The sound of the jukebox starting up cut short his reverie. He had to get out there and explain himself. Frank dried his face and hands with a paper towel before smacking his cheeks and stretching his neck back and forth to each shoulder.

Frank exited the restroom only to find some douchebag staring at your ass as you leaned over toward the bar. He saw red when the piece of shit held out his hand behind his back while his friend slipped a twenty-dollar bill into it, seemingly winning some sort of bet.

Jamie didn’t stand a chance when Frank stormed in between the two of you. “That’s IT,” he yelled, so intense he borderline bellowed. He threw whatever cash he had in his pocket on the bar to pay for your drinks before he pulled you outside, almost getting to your door while you fought against his grip. He only stopped when you spun your body around like something out of Dancing with the Stars and jumped in front of him, forcing him to catch you.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, what are y-”

“-What are YOU doing, Frank? What the fuck was that?” You put your feet back down on the ground but remained facing him, arms crossed over your chest.

He groaned in frustration, suddenly realizing he actually had no clue how to respond. “Fuck.”

You looked at him, tapping your foot in anticipation.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.” He rubbed at his temples in the way he did when he felt a headache coming on.

“And how was he looking at me, Frank? What does it matter to you?”

“He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat and I… FUCK!”

You both turned when your neighbor opened his window. “Can you kids keep it down out here?”

You waved bashfully at the old man. “Sorry, Mr. Parker,” you said in unison.

“Come inside, Frankie.” The nickname that typically made him roll his eyes at you never had sounded sweeter, now that its use confirmed you didn’t hate him for the scene he made. You both toed off your shoes at the door before you made your way into the living room, motioning for him to sit next to you on the couch when he tried to sit in the armchair across the room.

You leaned forward, pinching his chin between your thumb and forefinger. “Now what’s going on in that sun-damaged brain of yours?”

He let out a laugh so soft you almost missed it, but you were glad you didn’t. Sitting back against the arm of the couch, you pulled a pillow into your lap and hugged it, giving Frank your full attention.

Frank cleared his throat, doing his best to accept that it was now or never. “That guy was leering at you, and it pissed me off. You deserve better, Y/N.” He pried your fingers from where they were locked around the pillow to hold your hands in his.

“If you want to meet new people, that’s great. If you don’t want to be with me, that’s a little less great, but I’d understand. He didn’t even pay for your drinks. And I th-”

You covered his mouth with one of your hands, and he knitted his brows in confusion. “You’re making it sound like it’s an option to be with you.” You were in disbelief, side-eyeing him, waiting for Ashton Kutcher to announce that you were, in fact, being Punk’d.

The corners of his mouth lifted into the soft smile he reserved for you. It was the same one he gave you whether you were on a tangent about how “Obsessed” by Mariah Carey is “the single greatest diss track of all time” or you were helping Mary put a harness and leash on Fred “just to see how he’d do” on a walk.

“For a distinguished professor, you’re kind of a dummy, Frank.” You took his face in your hands, thrilled to be feeling his stubble against your palms. Before he could talk back to you, you kissed him, unsure how you denied yourselves such a simple yet extraordinary pleasure for so long. It only took a moment for him to relax into it, his hands removing the pillow between you before finding your waist and pulling you almost into his lap.

You deepened the kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. He pulled away first, pressing his forehead to yours. “Seems like we’re both dummies, huh?”

You were going to ask why pulled away until you looked down to see a considerable tent forming in the front of his jeans. You laughed as he pulled you into a tight hug, one arm wrapped around you while the other hand held your face against his neck.

You kissed the side of his neck softly before leaning back to look at him. “All this time? I thought you didn’t see me this way.” You held his face, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You asked me to go to Ferg’s and then said I could meet other people, so I thought that was it, you know?”

He covered your hands with his and pecked your lips softly. “Honey, I thought it was the other way around. I was trying to ask you out and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.” You giggled, spluttering a bit because tears had started falling at some point. He wiped your tears away before swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down a bit. “We’re fools, aren’t we?”

You nodded slowly and Frank saw something wicked flash in your eyes before you took his thumb in your mouth, sucking lightly. “Jesus, honey.” His length hardened underneath you and you could feel the wetness beginning to pool in your panties, prompting you to grind down into his lap.

You released his thumb from your mouth, pressing your chest into his before kissing him again. “I think we’re only fools if we don’t take advantage of the rest of your adult time.” You removed your dress easily, returning your hands to Frank’s shoulders to push off his shirt.

He surged forward to kiss you again, working magic with his tongue against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he picked you up, walking you into the bedroom. Placing you on the bed carefully, he removed your bra and panties before pulling off his boxers and jeans in one go. You thought you wanted him before, but now that you could see everything he’d been hiding under his baggy clothes, you didn’t see how you could ever let him leave your bedroom.

The next few minutes were spent exploring each other’s mouths while Frank stretched you with his fingers. You didn’t think you’d ever been so wet in your life and thought you might pass out if you didn’t feel him inside you immediately. You gave his cock a few strokes before sliding his head through your folds, coating him in your slick.

“Waitwaitwait, honey. Do you have a condom?”

“You don’t need one if you don’t want one. It’s okay.”

He looked like you just gave him tomorrow’s winning lotto numbers, taking a deep breath to steady himself before he looked at you again. “Oh, God. Are you sure?”

“Mhm. I wanna feel you. Make me yours?”

“Anything you want, honey, but if you change your mind, just tell me, okay?” He lined himself up, seconds shy of entering you for the first time.

“I figured if you were gonna be possessive of me tonight, you might as well take it the whole nine, Frankie.” You laughed as he let out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously, though, I’m clean, I’m on the pill, and I’ve wanted you for a long time.” You reached up to scratch lightly through his chest hair.

“The only thing I wanna hear right now is you moaning for me.” He drove into you harshly, but waited a moment for you to adjust once he was seated to the hilt. “So damn wet and tight for me, honey. You’re so perfect, so beautiful.” He kissed you again before he began to move, slowly but surely making you lose your mind.

He dipped his head down to take one nipple in his mouth, then the other, effectively shutting you up and emptying all thoughts from your head. He nipped at the swell of your breast, soothing the bite with his tongue. “Fuck, Frank, please!”

“Please what, honey?” He picked up his pace, fucking into you so vigorously you moved up the bed. “Tell me what you need.”

“Make me cum, Frank. Please, baby, I need it. Need you,” you cried, leaning up to bite into his shoulder, stifling your moans.

“I wanna hear you, Y/N. I wanna hear those pretty moans while I’m making this perfect pussy cum for me.” The combination of his filthy words and the sight of him sucking on his own fingers before rubbing at your clit sent you over the edge, making you scream his name over and over again for what felt like forever and not long enough.

You could tell he was close, his hips stuttering and losing their rhythm. He began to pull out, unsure if you were willing to let him finish inside you, but knowing he was too close to wait for an answer.

You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him close, pushing him back into you. “Fill me up, Frank. I wanna feel all of you. Please give it to me,” you whimpered. His release triggered another for you, chanting each other’s names surely loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

He stayed inside you as you both came down from your shared high, gingerly flipping you over so he laid on his back with you on his chest. He kissed the top of your head, fingers fluttering up and down your sides.

“What’s on your mind now, Frankie?” You looked up at him through your lashes, mildly terrified of the answer.

He looked down at you with the most adoration you’d ever seen, lifting your chin so your eyes met his in the moonlight. “That wasn’t too soon, was it? You mean so much to me and to Mary. I don’t wanna mess this up. I don’t ever wanna hurt you. You’re the best thing in my life besides Mary, you know that?”

You kissed his chest before looking back up at him, smiling. “First of all, I would argue that wasn’t soon enough.” He hissed as you clenched around his still softening cock inside you.

“You’re evil.”

Winking at him, you continued tracing patterns on his chest with your fingers. “Second, that all kinda sounds like you might be in love with me, Frank Adler.”

His hands stopped moving for a second before he responded. “Would you run away if I said I am?”

“Well, I wouldn’t run away. This is my house.” You thought your heart might explode in your chest.

“I didn’t even say it, but I take it back,” he huffed, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“What if I told you I felt the same way?”

He grinned, sitting up to kiss you feverishly on your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips. You could feel him starting to harden again inside you, leading to round two of… well, you lost count.

You ate breakfast and showered together in time for Frank to return home before Mary did, agreeing to talk more later and to hold out on Roberta for a while.

Frank stood on your doorstep, leaning in to kiss you once more. All of a sudden, you heard a familiar meow and thanked God you were dressed and not in your robe.

“Frank, what are you doing here? I thought I’d come see Y/N since I’m not supposed to come home until noon.”

You bit your tongue to keep from cackling. Frank ran a hand over his face, his blissful bubble burst. He was getting you a hotel room next weekend.

#shamelesshoesforchris2021 #maggie's writing #frank adler #frank adler x fem!reader #frank adler fluff #frank adler smut

455 notes · View notes

cynettic · 3 years

Note

What about play hide and seek with Diluc, Childe, Kaeya and Zhongli with small s/o? Maybe fluffy

Summary - Playing hide and seek with Genshin characters, with the advantage of being short.

Pairings - Reader x Zhongli / Diluc / Kaeya / Childe

Warnings - None? Unless you’re still at that stage where you think kissing is gross :(

Penpal - I enjoyed this so much!!! Thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoyed it :)

A/N - I used to be a pro at hide and seek- but that’s probably cause I was a tiny thing as a child. I can’t fit into half the things I used to fit into lol. And bro- why does my autocorrect keep changing ‘crunchy’ into ‘crunchyroll.’ Like that doesn’t even make sense- it feels like it’s making fun of me :(

Hide and Seek with a Small S/O

Diluc

When you first mentioned it he didn’t hide his confusion.

The idea of playing a game he would play when he was younger made no sense to him, not until you revealed that you just wanted to drag him out of his desk and get him to do something else. ‘Anything’ else. Diluc was known for overworking and you swore that if he continued at this rate, you’d start to see grey hair.

“Grey hair?” He’d asked one time, hand reaching to tousle his red locks. “I wasn’t aware that working caused such side effects…” he flashed you a suspicious look, not entirely convinced. “Unless this just another one of your ploys to get me out of my office…?”

“Bingo,” you replied back with a smile, tugging at his arm. “Now cmon, come play hide and seek with me.”

And who was he to say no to his adorable s/o?

So he takes you by the arm, following along as you drag him to the centre of the manor. No one except the two of you are in the residence, maids gone for vacation, Elzer having head to Monstadt to help with the deliveries.

You tell him to count to 30.

When he covers his eyes with both hands and begins the countdown, you scurry upstairs, knowing fully well that he can hear the stairs cream underneath you. But that won’t matter.

Being small as you are, you can fit into tiny places without too much effort. So you find the bathroom cabinet, opening the doors and crawling inside. Towels and hygiene products accompany you in the darkness, and you press your knees to your chest.

You can hear Diluc slowly get up the stairs.

Actually, you can hear the soft thump of his footsteps wherever he goes. His room, your room, just until he opens the bathroom door.

You’re especially quiet as he opens the shower curtains, peeking in the tub and giving the room a quick look over. Shallow breaths as he slowly walks back to the door.

But just before he leaves the washroom, he pauses, your breaths the only audible thing as he stops. You know immediately that he found you when his footsteps walked back into the washroom, stopping right at the sink cabinets.

Oh well, he isn’t the darknight hero for nothing.

————

“Y/n?”

The cabinets door open slowly, the sudden light blinding you for a moment before you could focus back on the redhead in front of you. He’s crouched down, height still giving him a good head above the sink anyway. He lowers his figure to fully face you, chuckle slipping out of his lips at the sight of you huddled against the cramped area.

Without speaking, he instead reaches his hand to tug you out of the darkness of the cabinet. Hand against the small of your back as he pushes you towards him, till you were pressed against his chest. You bury your face into his shoulder, huffing in disappointment.

“What gave it away? I was being so quiet too…”

He rubbed his thumb across the skin of your back, slowly standing up with you in one hand. “I believe I’m a much greater listener than you give me credit for.” When he stands you up on both feet, you rub your eyes, still adjusting to the light.

“Alright,” you put both hands on the sink behind you, leaning back. “Your turn then? I’ll give you thirty seconds from up here, that should be enough.”

Raising an eyebrow, he quickly shakes his head. “I’m afraid my height would give me away in a matter of seconds love.” You open your mouth to disagree, there were plenty more spots- “But I won’t be heading back to work either, I do believe my rest is long due.” He laces your hand in his, soft sigh as he encases your small palm against his. It was comforting to be able to slide his fingers into yours, small enough to make him want to shield your body from everything all together. Keep you protected in his arms as your hands clenched the fabric of his jacket. “What do you say about resting bed then, together?”

———

Kaeya

A tad confused like Diluc at the start, but less stubborn when you insist on playing it with him.

He too works a lot, and if not buried in paperwork, he’s off doing missions outside or providing help to Monstadt residents. And when he’s off work, he wants to he’s still the tavern and drink till he drops, a habit he’s put to a stop for you, but still does on the certain occasion.

So when you ask, he can’t really say no. Besides, the idea does sound fun to a degree, why not give it a go?

“Make sure to find a good spot,” he whispers into your ear as the two of you walk along the bridge. “I’m afraid I’m a terribly good seeker, you don’t want the round to end too quickly do you?”

“Don’t get too cocky,” you hummed back with a grin. “You’ll end up eating your words.”

On a side note, you scare Timmie’s pigeons away and he yells at you.

You both walk to the Whispering Woods, a suggestion made by you. Settling at the start of the trail, you tell Kaeya to give you about a minute at the very least.

“And count slow,” you clarify with accusatory eyes. “No cheating.”

With a smirk, he begins to count, facing the other way as you scurry into the forest. Being as small as you are, you could easily creep into a log or bush, or climb a tree if you really wanted. So you settled with a tree, finding the highest one with the most branches and leaves to keep you cover.

It didn’t take you long to get up.

Clawing your way while using the branches as leverage, eventually hoisted your body up into one of the tallest branches. It was only then that you let yourself relax, looking down in search of Kaeya if he’d begun searching.

He checked ‘everywhere.’

Extremely detail oriented, he knew you were small enough to hide yourself in the smallest crevices. So he looked and looked, and you could only watch from your high position in the tree, giggling at his slight frustration.

It was only when he leaned against the tree that you knew he’d found you, peering up to give you a small smile.

“Oh~? And how’d you get yourself up there-?”

———

“I know how to climb a tree,” you stated back, rolling your eyes. “Took you so long too, thought I was gonna fall asleep.”

At his pout, you began to climb down. Branches scratching your arms as you made sure you were secure with every step you took. Nothing painful, but tedious when you were being so careful not to slip and fall.

“The woods have lots of hiding spots,” Kaeya defensively stated back, eyes tracking your movements. “Do you expect me to have checked all the trees in a matter of seconds…?”

You snickered, “Yeah. You kinda are the cavalry captain yknow.” A joke of course, Kaeya was already comfortable enough around you to reveal his insecurities and let you past his confident demeanour. He knew you didn’t expect anything from him, especially not as his title in the Favonius Knights.

But before he could retort back, your leg skimmed past one of the branches, hand grip not firm enough to keep you from falling. You were airborne for a moment before your arm hit one of the branches, pushing it away from your head as you were sent tumbling to the ground.

Kaeya cursed before quickly catching you from his position under the tree, hands catching your waist and easily pulling you to his chest bridal style. Your small figure pressed up against him, head on his shoulder as you blinked past the shock.

“Ouch.”

Letting out a relieved sigh, he gently set you down to the ground, crouching to scan your form. There were various scratches, none of them bleeding along the line of your shoulder.

His big hands still held you by the shoulders, eyes trailing along the bruise on your arm from the fall. He frowned, not hiding his disdain at the newfound injury. Gently, he cradled your arm in both his hands, brushing his thumb across the red splotch that would no doubt fade into an ugly purple and blue.

“It’s fine,” you reassured to his pensive eyes. “It’s a bruise, my fault for slipping anyways.”

He seemed unconvinced, but helped pull you up when knowing he couldn’t do anything. Not here. “Alright then, let’s get you back, Barbara will be able to patch it up in no time.” You nodded, walking alongside him down the trail. “Do you need me to carry you?”

“Ha- as if. If anyone needs to be carried, it’s you and your pride. I still can’t believe you took that long to find me.”

“My- and who said my pride took a hit from that?” But he played along with your jest, keeping one hand securely around your shoulder. “My my, such a caring individual you are. I might just take you up on that offer to carry me then.”

———

Childe

Bro- this guy would’ve been the one to ask ‘you.’

He probably got the idea on one of Teucer’s visits, persuading you and him to join the younger boy in a game of hide and seek. And even if it had taken the younger boy quite a bit to find both you and Childe hidden in the closet piled with clothes, it had entertained you all.

So it doesn’t come unexpected that he tugs you by the arm, gesturing to the crisp cool air of Liyue, tall imposing buildings lightened by the street lamps.

“Oh cmon Y/n, one game?”

He’d just gotten back from work, and you who’d finished your work much earlier had been waiting around for him to get back. Settling on a night walk, you weren’t surprised he proposed the idea.

“Hm? Fine, but you’re the seeker.” Your gaze slid along the buildings, small crevices and alleyways just waiting for you to sneak in. The night air coupled along with the dead silence gave you a thrill, you might actually enjoy this.

“Fine by me! I’m giving you thirty seconds.”

Scoffing, you push your shoulder against his arm. “No way, you’re give me more than that. I’m finding a good spot and I sure need more than thirty seconds in the ‘entirety’ of Liyue Port to find somewhere.”

He had no choice but to nod along, a smile forming at the idea. “I’m going to find you anyway, but sure, go and have your try at it. Let’s see how long it takes me.”

You take up the challenge, running quickly through the streets of Liyue as you attempt to find a place.

Being small, and having so many options to hide, you figured you should find someplace Childe ‘couldn’t’ get into.

Just to see the look on his face-

Luckily for you, there’s a little stretch right between buildings with a tiny cramped up space. It’s too small to call it an alleyway, but once inside it stretches up a tad bit more.

Maybe you’re claustrophobic, maybe you’re not, but you settle on going in there just for the sole purpose of mocking Childe.

By the time you’ve fully crept inside, you could only guess that he’d stopped counting. It took a while, but eventually you heard the soft sound of footsteps against gravel, crunching the rocks on its path.

When he made it to the alleyway, he peeked into the darkness, greeting you with a smirk.

“Found you.”

———

You found yourself smiling back sweetly at him, tilting your head to the side when you said, “Ah, well you do have to tag the hider you know. That’s how we played it with Teucer~” you put your hands up innocently, watching his eyes furrow in confusion. “Oh come on, you found me, tagging me should be the easy part.”

So Childe of course tried to squeeze in the little crevice, grunting when he couldn’t fit in at all. A scornful look of frustration crept onto his face as he tried and tried again to at least get his reach to you-

“I’m enjoying the view, but hurry it up would you? You told me you’d win in no time.”

He only grew more visibly frustrated at your comment, pulling out to try new tactics. He found he couldn’t reach you by hand, and when he used one of his water swords to try to drag you to him, you kicked it away.

“You’ll scratch me!”

“I’ll be careful I swear-“

Nevertheless, Childe soon grew discouraged after nothing worked. He contemplated teleporting in there with his hydro vision… but he didn’t want to know what would get squashed if he took the chance.

He summoned his water swords again, swinging them around in his hand menacingly as he stared down. “Well,” he drawled, watching it be your turn to give him a confusing stare. “If I can’t reach you by hand, guess I’ll just have to cut my way through.”

“Huh?! But these are buildings, you can’t just-“

“Oh yes I can. I most certainly can, and believe me when I say I ‘will.’” He paused to flash you a grin, teeth gleaming against the streetlights in contrast to the dark. He stared at you as if you were prey, sending a shiver up your spine as he assumed the role of predator. “Unless you get out.”

You really had no choice, not when it came to either that or destroying buildings for your sake. And even if he was joking, which you were sure he was, you didn’t want to risk it.

“Ugh, fine you cheater.”

“Who said threats weren’t allowed?”

You only stuck your tongue out at him, getting out of the little crevice. What you didn’t expect was for him to pick you up straight after, swinging you in his arms like you would a baby. He pressed a sly kiss to your cheek, content with the way you swung your legs to break free.

When he didn’t give in to your struggles, you simply laid back, groaning. “Archons… so persistent.”

He just pressed a kiss to your lips, carrying you all the way back home and successfully shutting you up.

————

Zhongli

He can join Diluc and Kaeya in the confusion. But 10x worse.

First of all, despite having lived for so long, he’s probably never even heard of it. Would grasp the concept quick, but he’s never heard it called as ‘Hide n Seek.’

But alas, if you want to play it, consider him in. He’s willing as long as it doesn’t endanger you in any way. And honestly? He could use a little fun and games once in a while, especially with you <3

Give him a rundown of the game a few times and you’re set. As per location wise, please do it at the Funeral Parlour.

And even if Hu Tao is there, she’d probably join in :)

On the occasion that she wasn’t, and you were leaning over Zhongli’s desk and staring down at the paperwork he was filling, it won’t be too hard to convince him.

“Please? It’s a small break from your work, I’ll even help you with it after!”

Zhongli scrutinized your face, quill in his hand on hold as he stayed pensive. “I… suppose.” He settled, looking around the room. “But are you sure you’ll be able to find such a spot here? It’s a rather small area.”

You only grinned back, “Trust me.”

And he did, closing his eyes and counting out loud like you asked him to. You trusted him not to cheat, hence why you kept the countdown at 30 seconds, and didn’t force his hands on his eyes.

And well… you were small, which really only meant one thing.

Closet.

But it wasn’t your typical grand closet. No, it was filled with cabinets and little slots for paper and such. Which meant that you could fit in one of the bottom cabinets of you laid down. So being careful with the closet door so that it wasn’t audible to his ears, you laid down into the darkness, closing it up.

Waiting for Zhongli to finish counting, you slowed your breathing, waiting. He walked around the room aimlessly, and it wasn’t too long till he opened the closet doors.

You again were on the bottom shelf of a walk in closet, so he would have to kneel down to even see you.

But he did something you didn’t expect.

The closet doors shut, leaving you both in darkness.

———

The wood planks brushed up against your back, scratching your shirt as you stayed utterly motionless in an act to conceal your location. But in the darkness, you couldn’t see anything and were completely at the disadvantage.

You heard the floor creak beneath you, flinching when it came closer to your spot. You froze, hoping that it was just a coincidence and that he would step out of the closet soon after.

But instead you were greeted by the sensation of lips against your own.

Mind going completely and utterly blank, it took you a second to realize that Zhongli had knelt down to press a quick kiss to your lips. He hadn’t even tried to scare you or tap you to get the deed done. Instead he had taken his careful time to fluster you.

“Zhongli,” You breathed, slowly bringing the rest of your body out of the tiny space. “How- what…”

You couldn’t see him in the darkness, only feel the sensation of his hand glide across your neck to tousle your hair affectionately. He pulled you to another kiss to stop your voice, cupping your small body into his arms and pressing you against him.

“How could I resist?” He simply answered into your ear, a low growl that tremored through your body. “Hu Tao is gone, and I haven’t gotten to kiss you in forever.”

“You could’ve just asked you dolt…”

But you pressed in against him for another kiss anyways, smiling at the way his hands came to cradle your back. How he had to lean down to press his lips against yours, position almost predatory against your body.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin headcanons #genshin impact hc #genshin impact one shots #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact Zhongli #genshin impact Childe #genshin impact Diluc #genshin impact Kaeya #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #Childe x reader #genshin fluff #writing

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lexxiie · 3 years

Note

Hii, I seen you were talking requests for unholy blood and I got excited!, my friend has been looking all over for fics for this webtoon so I wanted to request something for her!. would you be able to do a friends to lovers with Baal , he's one of her favorite characters <3 im not sure if u do name inserts or y/ns but if you do allow name inserts hers is Nyx! thank you!! so much!

hey there! I don't really have a problem with name inserts but since there is little to no content on Unholy Blood, I thought it would be better to do a reader insert for anyone who is looking for fics as well (although I tried not to mention "y/n" either). I hope it's okay, thank you so much for your request!!<3 I love Baal

Pairing: Unholy blood Baal x reader.

Warnings: Very slight spoilers of the ending.

Friends to lovers with Baal:

You actually met Baal before he became a vampire.

You had agreed to go to this magic show with your friend.

Ya'll had just finished all of your scheduled exams and you figured that you really needed a break.

Normally, you would go drinking or partying at the red bomb club since it was what all the other students did.

But your friend had insisted on going to the new magic show everyone was talking about.

Magicians and all of that stuff wasn't really your thing but you didn't have anything better to do.

You couldn´t quite comprehend where the hype for this show was coming from. Especially all these young people interested on it.

Wasn't this type of thing for families with little kids? Or for old people?

Anyways. You were already there so it was better to try to enjoy it a bit.

And oh boy...

It was amazing.

You had never seen anything like it! It wasn't like all those magic shows where you can clearly see or undertand the trick behind it.

It was truly incredible. Everything seemed impossible to achieve, and yet, the magician acted as if he could do it with his eyes closed. As if it was nothing.

You had never been more impressed with anything in your entire life.

So when the show ended, you just needed to tell this surreal person hoy much you liked it.

You approached the charismatic magician when some girls who asked for his autograph were leaving.

"Excuse me! I just wanted to say that that was absolutely incredible. The way you made a whole ass table disappear? Wow."

And before you realized it, you were babbling in front of this complete stranger.

The magician looked at you with great intrigue in his eyes.

He honestly thought it was very funny how freaked out you were and he figured that you probably didn't come to this type of shows often.

You seemed genuinely impressed.

Baal wasn't fond of people. In fact, he didn't like people one bit.

But, for the first time in his life, there was someone who was being nice to him.

Sure, he had people asking for autographs and pictures but they usually just approached him for that. Never to rant about the whole act like you did.

So he invited you to come to his next show.

And of course you wouldn't miss it for anything in the world.

So you went once more and you were just as stunned as the last time.

And he invited you to the next, and the next, and the next.

Before he knew it, Baal realized that he had a friend... For the first time ever.

You wouldn't miss on any show and at some point you guys started hanging out after each of them.

You knew how they treated Baal at work.

He couldn't hide it. He would always have new bruises that you always ended up tending to.

Not that you minded, you were just worried about him.

But he insisted that he was fine.

Sometimes you would have some free time from school and you would help him prepare for his tricks.

Well, you would play with Daniel while Baal prepared his show far away from you.

He said that it would be unprofessional to reveal his tricks to you.

But in truth, he loved how impressed you always were and he didn't want to ruin that by revealing you his secrets.

Suddenly, and completely out of nowhere, Baal just disappeared for a whole week. You had seen in the news that the theater he worked at had burnt and you tried to locate him for days.

You had never been more worried in your entire life.

That was when he was turned into a vampire.

He was completely devastated.

And not even by the fact that he had been turned into what he considered a monster.

But by the fact that he only had five years left to live, which meant, only five years left to be with you.

He trusted you so much that he wasn't afraid of telling you that he was a vampire. He just couldn't face the fact that you were going to be absolutely shattered when you found out.

And when he finally gathered the courage to tell you, you were.

It was so unfair! he was a good person, he didn't deserve this.

But Baal wasn't going to give up that easily.

He was going to save daniel from the fact that now he also had five years left, and he was going to stay with you.

He had heard rumors.

Stories about vampires living for more than five years.

He just had to become an Angel of death.

It took him a while.

He did many things he wasn't proud of.

But he made it. He was an angel of death now. He got himself 50 more years to live.

But there was a problem.

What he expected to be the only way to be near you, turned exactly into what was going to get you away from him.

He had earned himself a lot of enemies, a lot of people who wanted him death.

He was surrounded by the biggest scumbags of the country and he knew it wasn't fair to put you at risk.

So he got away from you.

No more calls, or late night walks... Nothing.

You were devastated. You feared that something might have happened to him.

He accepted the idea of never being able to tell you how he felt about you. To tell you that he loved you.

He had realized it a while ago.

He had once decided to make you dinner himself since he didn't have a lot of money to treat you to a restaurant.

You had already finnished your meal and after long minutes of you praising his cooking skills, which he adored, You stood up and went to look out the window.

The windows on the old auditory were quite big, with some space at the bottom where one could sit or put things on.

You sat there, telling him about something related to one of your assignatures. He doesn't know what though, he wasn't listening anymore.

He was lost, seeing how the lights of the street illuminated your face during the silent night.

And he realized that you weren't like him.

You had a family, lots of friends, things you could be doing, parties you were probably invited to but declined because, for some reason, you decided to be in that musty theater with him.

And as the wind subtly brushed away the hair from your face, he realized that this, this view, was everything he wanted to see for the rest of his life.

He didn't need anything more.

You laughing at all of his jokes, helping him with Daniel, babbling about everything you liked. Him. That was it.

But of course, now, he wouldn't be able to tell you that.

Or so he tought.

After years since the last time he had talked to you, he met Hayan.

And for the first time in a while, he felt hope.

This girl was slaying Angels of death as if they were nothing.

And she was clearly stronger than "God."

If she defeated him, he could be free! He could be with you without putting you at risk. He could save Daniel.

But not everything went as planned.

When things with Daniel started to get rough, he decided it was time to look for you.

He needed someone by his side in a moment like this, and now, he would only have you.

He also figured you would want to say goodbye to the noble lion.

During his time as an Angel of death, Baal never lost track of you. He knew what you were doing, where you lived, what was going on in your life.

He wanted to make sure you were okay.

Honestly, he expected you to close the door right on his face for leaving you for so long.

But that was not the case. You jumped right at him.

You had spent all these years worried about him, it made him feel very guilty but he knew it had been for the best.

But you were so happy to see him, you were even babbling... Again.

Telling him all of the things you thought that had happened to him, and answering your own questions before he could.

You did say goodbye to Daniel and you accompanied Baal during his loss. It was just the three of you. Just like in the old times.

Time went on, and Hayan finally defeated Yohan.

He realized he had no idea what he was going to do with his life, but he had one thing very clear.

He wasn't going to let you go again.

It took him a long time to fix his mistakes an make up for all the lost time and pain he caused you.

But he managed to get your trust back and suddenly, you two were just as close as you used to be.

Exept that everything was different now. Now he could tell you how much he loved you. How he never stopped loving you.

Now, Baal is very cocky. So I would be lying if I told you that he was surprised when you told him that you loved him too.

He was not.

He already knew that.

How could anyone not love him? He is enchanting!

However, that doesn't mean he wasn't incredibly happy to hear you say it.

And most importantly, you finally were together.

Baal decided to go back to his old days as a magician for good.

Especially now that his favourite fan was by his side again.

There is A LOT of teasing from Euntae towards you two.

Baal will never admit it and neither will Euntae but they are the closest thing each other has to a best friend.

Hayan and you are definitely besties and not afraid to say it.

Double dates.

Euntae and Baal get competitive over the most stupid things.

"The other day, Hayan asked me to change a light bulb and I did it in 3 minutes. Easiest thing ever."

"Yeah? I have been changing light bulbs since I was 5. I could do it in 2 minutes."

And Hayan and you are just sitting there like 👁️👁️.

"Who changes light bulbs since they were 5?"

Overall he is a great guy.

And he is trying to compensate for all he did while he worked for Yohan.

Best. Boyfriend. Ever.

A true romantic.

Wakes you up with breakfast in bed and flowers.

"What would you like for dinner, love?"

you could ask him to make you the most difficult dish in the world, and he would.

Sometimes you feel a bit guilty because he only cooks for you, obviously.

So you sit there with your fancy dish while he's just there watching you eat.

Grinning like an idiot.

He isn't perfect though.

He makes a lot of inappropriate comments in public.

And of course, in private.

But you actually secretly like it. You just won't tell him because you know those comments would exponentially increase.

Lots of gifts.

He wasn't able to afford things back when you met him but he sure as hell can now.

He is more of a compulsive buyer than you.

He is a simple man. He sees a dress, he likes it, he buys it.

Immaculate taste *cheff kiss*

He always smells like expensive cologne and you love it.

He says "I love you" all the time, sometimes he even blows kisses at you when he ends a show.

The whole audience think it's for them tho.

He would do anything for you.

He spent half of his life thinking he didn't have a family and the other half thinking he didn't deserve one.

It took him a long time to realize that he had one for a while, and now that he got it back, he is not letting go.

I was extremely unsure on wether to mention Daniel's death or not because I feel like he might be alive but if that's the case I'll just edit it. This was super fun to write, honestly! Never enough of Baal.

Masterlist

#unholy blood #unholy blood headcanons #baal #unholy blood scenarios #white blood #baal x reader #webtoon headcanons #webtoon #webtoon x reader

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oro-e-diamanti · 3 years

Text

Quiet Music: Scherzo (Chapter Six; Part Two)

In collaboration with @bethanysnow

Butterflies getting caught in throats with no words to help explain. Time standing still with a heart breaking. Determination and a willingness to see it through float away in sleep.

Content | Fluff, slight smut warning, tw injury (nothing major, just a wrist injury)

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 6644

Shoutout to @damianodavide, who was a superb help on this chapter and the real life nurse behind this one ;) 😘

***

Damiano’s head was spinning. As soon as he closed his eyes, Y/n’s face appeared in front of him, eyes hooded, lips plumps from just having kissed him, and an expression that promised a need for more. It left him bothered in a way that he knew would not let him sleep until he took care of it. Trying to pretend it was her feminine hand instead of his own rather undignified touch, he reached into the waistband of his underwear immediately letting out a hiss at the contact.

He was desperate for her, but if he couldn’t have her, his imagination would have to do. Pictures flashed through his mind as he moved his hand. Her on her knees, looking up at him through long lashes. He had already gotten a taste of the way she reacted when he complimented her, watching her eyes go wide as he called her a good girl. Her being good for him. Her on her back, ready to be devoured by him in any way he pleased. Feeling his hands go into her hair pulling her face up to look at him. Her bent over whatever furniture he could find, willing to let him have his way with her. Deeply, madly, irrefutably, he wanted it all. She was truly making him lose his mind. Her body and the way she moved were infatuating. Her laugh when someone did something dumb. The look in her eyes when she teased him back. He could still feel the kiss she left on his lips. He never wanted that feeling to end. Brava ragazza mia.

He came with an embarrassingly loud groan, unable to hold back or keep quiet. For a moment, in the silence, he wondered if anyone had heard. He was well aware that his room was surrounded by those of bandmates and crew, but he couldn’t remember who it was exactly anyway, and it didn’t bother him for long, his hazy mind drifting around once again.

***

“Where is your mind at?” Y/n looked up as Victoria pulled her out of her thoughts unexpectedly. Y/n had stopped in Victoria's room after breakfast, trying to keep tabs on what everyone’s plans were on their day off. She had meant to get some work done as Victoria was busying herself getting ready, but it had ended up with her staring into the distance, laptop almost forgotten on her lap.

“Oh, sorry. I’m here, what were you saying?”

“I asked where your mind is at.” Victoria fell forward laying on the bed. Y/n knew that the blonde was starting to learn to read her like a book and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.

“Yeah, um, listen. What would you say to someone that may have absolutely decimated her career, by maybe accidentally kissing her boss while they were all high?” She didn’t dare look at the bassist, bracing herself for whatever negative reaction would potentially come from this.

Victoria sat up in surprise, eyes wide and the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “I’m going to need a lot more information than that.” Without giving in to Y/n’s slight protest, she removed the laptop from the assistant’s legs, closing it shut and putting it away. “Tell me everything.”

“Well, there wasn’t much to it really. We sat on the couch, you know that. And I said something stupid about how his eyes looked like chocolates, or maybe gemstones? I don’t quite remember. Anyway, then he pulled my hair out of the hair-tie. I went to kiss his cheek, but he turned his face. Fuck, it was bad. Not the kiss! He is very good at that! But I shouldn’t have done that. And then he just went ‘it's cool, it happens’. What does that even mean?!” She was talking much too quickly, getting it all out before the rational part of her brain would make her shut up. Make her remember she was talking to someone she’d only just started getting to know a week ago, who she was working for. “Then Thomas crashed and you know how that ended. Now I might be avoiding him. Just a bit.” She looked at Vic with a slight panic in her eyes, unsure if she had said too much.

Victoria, on the other hand, seemed delighted to no end, if a little shocked. “Wait, as if you kissed with all of us there and no one noticed!” She exclaimed, briefly pausing, contemplating, but shaking it off to get back to the conversation. “So… Good kiss, huh? Did you enjoy it then? Wanna do it again?” Her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Victoria! That is not what I am worried about here! I could lose my job. I- I could never show my face out there again if people found out. And I really enjoy this job, you know!” Her face scrunched a little bit, calming down with a sigh. “...But also, yes, he was a gentleman, and if he wanted to … kiss me again, I probably wouldn’t say no. But I also wouldn’t say yes. I work for you. This is not the time to be thinking about how much I enjoyed kissing Damiano!”

Her eyes went wide as her voice dropped to a whisper, looking down at her hands. “Ah fuck, I said that out loud.”

“Okay, let’s look at it from a rational standpoint then.” Victoria turned slightly more serious at seeing her panic. “There is no way you’ll be losing your job over this. Maybe I wouldn’t advise hopping into bed with the whole band and crew, but we always got a tight-knit relationship with people we work with anyway, you know that. None of us would rat you out to management or anything. Plus, if you liked and Damiano liked it… wouldn’t it be a shame to worry about anything else instead of going for it?”

“I don’t know if he liked it. I was busy trying not to pass out, to be honest. I avoided him this morning by going straight to your room. I actually kind of avoided everyone, I’m scared the words of what happened will just come out to anyone who asks… Kind of like they just did with you.” She let out another deep sigh, switching between looking at her nails, picking at them, and out the window. “If he ...you know ... Then maybe. I honestly don’t even know what I would do with that information. On the off chance that he did like it though. And wanted to go for it then I’d consider it.” She tried to remain as put together as possible and, well aware that she was failing miserably.

“Well, in that case, we have to find out what Damiano wants!” Victoria’s enthusiasm was back with a vengeance. “You should talk to him! Or should I talk to him? Maybe I should lock you in a room like those romcoms and threaten to not let you out again until you kiss.”

“Or you don’t do that because that is entrapment. I think I would be cool with you talking to him. But I still have to do my job. That comes first. Because as far as I am concerned,” Y/n got up and grabbed her laptop again, “it is business as usual. And last night was a fluke. Not to crush your rom-com dreams, love, but if I spoke to him I’d put my foot in my mouth faster than you can play bass.”

The smirk on Vic’s face didn’t promise anything good. “We’ll see about that, we’ll see,” she ominously muttered, before jumping up from the bed. “Now stop trying to pretend you got work to do, we’re going vintage clothes shopping.”

***

The thrift store turned out to be a small hole-in-the-wall kind of place, just off a side street - perfect for shopping in peace without getting much attention at all. Y/n hadn’t been all that keen on keeping the band company for this little adventure, but Victoria had insisted, claiming she needed a female perspective in case the boys were being stupid again. It had only taken a serious case of the puppy dog eyes to win her over, and Victoria found herself making a mental note to remember it.

The store was stuffed full of clothes, a kind of chaos that seemed to have an order that only the owner really understood. But it looked like heaven, and within seconds everyone had vanished into some corner or other, dying to find their newest favourite piece. For a moment, Victoria contemplated who she wanted to follow first, feeling the need to talk to at least two different people but also never wanting to miss out on a chance to go crazy with Thomas. Ended up deciding on Damiano. It seemed the more pressing issue. She hadn’t failed to notice how he would try to pretend that everything was normal, yet continuously evading Y/n’s eyes. She had kept her distance all the same. This wasn’t acceptable. She had to do something, Victoria decided.

She found the singer shuffling through some blouses, although much more half-heartedly than he tended to be when it came to vintage clothes. Looking out from the racks Victoria saw Y/n doing the same. She briefly considered how to go on about this - admit that Y/n had told her what had happened? Pretend she had actually seen the kiss last night? - but figured that Damiano would start talking on his own accord sooner or later. Especially if this was affecting him the way it was Y/n, and she was almost hoping it was.

“Okay, spill, what’s up with you today?”

Damiano shrugged, pulling a shirt out from the rack, and holding it against his body, waiting for Victoria's opinion. She raised a brow and put it back wordlessly.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he responded rather vaguely.

“Damia, you’ve barely spoken at all today. Normally you can’t shut up. And you know, I’d be thankful for some peace and quiet from you, but you’re actually worrying me. So what’s going on with you?”

Damiano had a panicked look on his face as he scanned over the racks of clothes, his eyes flickering back and forth, obviously noticing Y/n shuffling through some things and slowly getting closer. Taking Vic by surprise, he dragged her into the dressing rooms.

“Okay, that’s…. Weirdly intimate, but go on,” Vic mumbled to herself as he closed the curtain behind them, still nervously looking around the small space.

“Rather talk to you in here, than her hear me out there. I may have fucked up, royally.” He crossed his arms over his chest and Victoria was sure he would be burning a hole into the wall with his vision if he possessed that power. He was avoiding looking at her and she knew it.

“Explain,” she simply demanded, sitting down on the tiny stool in the corner and looking up at Damiano. She wanted to hear it from him, hear what had happened in his version of the story, hear what was bothering him so much.

“So we were at that bar, right? Y/n was sitting next to me. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, you were there. Anyway. We were talking. I don’t know if it was the smoking or whatever else, but I looked at her and - I don’t know why I did this but I did. I pulled her hair out of her hair tie.” He leaned on the wall, his head hitting the brick behind him. He groaned but Vic assumed it didn’t have anything to do with the pain. “And… and she was so beautiful. Her hair just all around her. So soft. And at that moment, she was laughing and it sounded heavenly. And I went to look at her again and suddenly my lips were on hers…” His voice softened at the end, losing his train of thought and drifting. She had never quite seen him like this. “Then she was freaking out, and I told her some fucking stupid line like ‘it happens’. I just wanted her to calm down but… Now she must think I’d just...” He groaned, slumping a little and finally looking over at Vic. “Then she ran off to help Thomas.”

“So, what you’re saying then is that you did enjoy it? Potentially wanna do it again?” She felt transported back to the conversation she’d had with Y/n just hours earlier, posing almost the exact same question. She had never been this involved with any of her friends’ relationships to this extent, but something told her that her help was desperately needed in this case.

He raised a brow at her. “Did you not hear the part where after we kissed she then proceeded to freak out? I doubt that she even wants to see my face right now.” A heavy sigh left him and Victoria found herself laying a hand on his arm. “And of course I want to kiss her again, Vic. I close my eyes and she is there. Hell, she wakes me up every morning! I can’t escape. She is everywhere I go! I turn a corner and she is there. She's the one we go to when wanting to eat, she arranges the cars, she helps us with concerts, she’s doing everything all the time. I don’t know how much more I can take!”

***

Y/n stood in the shoe aisle holding a pair of heels in her hand, contemplating for a second, before putting them on. Turning towards Ethan, who was walking towards her now, she realised it had eliminated all height differences between them. Definitely too high, she thought to herself. Holding onto his shoulders, she clumsily took them back off.

“Hey Ethan, find anything good?” The smile on her face felt forced but she was praying he wouldn’t see it.

He proudly holds up a black, studded belt with an intricate design on it, as well as a pink suede jacket. “How about you? I think I saw some nice trousers over there that might suit you. Wanna check it out?”

Y/n scoffed. She didn’t want to let her mood out on Ethan, trying her hardest to stay diplomatic. “Love the idea, but I doubt any of the clothes in here would go over my thigh. They’d fit you guys just great though. The jacket looks good, by the way.” She tried to distract herself from - well, everything - by putting the shoes away, mindlessly letting her fingers wander over the other pairs standing there.

Ethan looked at her in contemplation for a moment, but seemed to decide against following his train of thought. “At least try on some more shoes. Here, what about these?” He excitedly grabbed a pair of high-heeled boots, very much in the style she could see any of them wearing on stage - much less the one she usually went for when working.

A little intimidated, she took the shoes, if only to humour him. Ethan was nothing but a sweetheart, this was the least she could do. She put them on only with some slight struggle. She once again reached his height, almost amused by the feeling of seeing eye-to-eye with him, but the shoes felt strange. Very far removed from the usual flats, sneakers, boots, or whatever other pair that would allow her to keep running around all day without regretting it in the evening.

“Do I look silly?”

“You look gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.” His voice had the most earnest tone to it and it was only supported by the way he studied her, looking her up and down. “Maybe walk a few steps to see if you can get used to it.”

She laughed as she proceeded to strut and partially dance some steps down the aisle to the song playing in the store. “I haven’t worn heels in so long, still got it though!”.” Her small smile grew into a grin, rather proud of herself for still being able to keep up. Going to the mirror near Ethan she looked at the shoes, then at herself in the shoes, then back at Ethan. Still, the insecurity took over for a moment. Her voice seemed small when she asked, “You think so?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you like that,” he replied, putting a hand over his heart for emphasis. “Want to go and see what the others think? I saw Thomas over there, and Vic and Dami disappeared into that corner a while ago.”

“Right, good idea.” She walked over to the dressing room looking for Damiano and Victoria, figuring they had gone to try on some things. Well, she was mainly looking for Victoria, still uncomfortable at the thought of facing the singer. She was in the middle of calling out for them when Damiano’s voice seeped through the curtain instead. She didn’t mean to listen, only to wait for him to stop so she could interrupt, but the second she realised what he was saying she wished she had never come over.

“Hell, she wakes me up every morning! I can’t escape. She is everywhere I go! I turn a corner and she is there. She's the one we go to when wanting to eat, she arranges the cars, she helps us with concerts, she’s doing everything all the time. I don’t know how much more I can take!”

She stepped back. Frozen in place. Her heart was beating out of her chest, hurting, aching, breaking just that little bit. Processing what he had said seemed to happen not at all and then suddenly all at once. She couldn’t breathe. She needed air. Anything but this suffocation. She needed to leave.

“I need some air.”

The words came out of her mouth much louder than anticipated, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care that people were looking at her now. She didn’t care that was still wearing a pair of shoes that she had definitely not paid for yet. She just needed out, out, out, and away from all this. From him.

She didn’t realise she was walking on cobblestone until she wasn’t anymore, her ankle giving way, arms desperately trying to keep her from falling as she stumbled.

***

Damiano and Victoria stopped in their tracks as they heard someone approach from outside of the dressing room. Both heads turned towards the sound, when Y/n’s voice came through, telling maybe no one in particular that she needed some air. Her voice sounded strange. Damiano was convinced he had never heard that particular tone in it. As he threw back the curtain, he saw her stumble outside, clearly hectic, and he could feel a surge of panic run through him. Something wasn't right here. He forgot all about the conversation he was having, all about Victoria, and made his way outside. Not quite running, but the worry had him out of the door quickly. His heart sank when he saw her, lying on the floor just outside of the shop, holding her arm awkwardly, some scratches already beginning to bleed a little. As she looked up at him, he could see tears pricking at her eyes.

"Fuck, are you okay? What happened? I just saw-" The look on her face - or rather, the way she turned away from him - shut him up instantly. This wasn't the time to bombard her with questions. It didn't matter anyway. Instead of bothering her further, he quickly knelt down beside her, helping her sit up in return. He was acutely aware of the way she pulled away the second he touched her skin. Like she had been burned. ´

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Sorry to ruin the shopping trip, you can go back in if you want to," she mumbled, trying to wipe some tears away but instead spreading some dirt and drying blood onto her cheek instead. Damiano wanted to touch her, clean her up, dry her tears, but the way she had pulled away a minute ago made him not want to try. The last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm her more. He watched as she pulled out her wallet, handing it to him. "Go pay for the shoes please. And stop looking at me like that, I said I’m fine."

Yet, as soon as she moved, she winced in pain, taking a deep breath before getting herself up to a standing position. He found himself holding her arm in support, but she only accepted it for as long as necessary. As he let go, she let out a small cry of pain, obviously holding her hurt wrist the wrong way.

“You’re obviously not fine,” Damiano sighed. He desperately wanted to reach out to her, but she was already in tears, turning away, and it simply didn’t seem like a sensible option. He looked around at the others as they gathered around Y/n. Only Thomas was missing, probably still blissfully unaware inside the shop and browsing for clothes. He tossed the wallet to Ethan. “Would you mind paying for her shoes real quick?” Ethan nodded, walking back into the store. Y/n was still standing between them, holding her arm close to her body in a protective gesture. Almost a similar expression to the one she had had on her face on the plane all those days ago. He wondered if something was scaring her the way the turbulence did back then.

“I am and will be fine, Damiano.” Her voice was stern. “I cry at a lot of things, this is no different. I wrap it up, put ice on it for a while and I’m golden.”

He watched as Victoria put a tentative hand on Y/n’s shoulder. She didn’t pull away from her touch, he noticed. “Y/n, that really doesn’t look like nothing. Look, it’s starting to swell up already.”

"What do you want me to do then?" She almost sounded resigned now as she looked back and forth between Damiano and Victoria. "We are in Amsterdam. I don't exactly have a GP on speed dial here. Now, where is Ethan with my wallet?"

She started walking towards the door of the shop, but Damiano defiantly held out his arm to stop her. "We are taking you to A&E."

Her face seemed to drain of all colour, and this time it was not because of the pain. "You are not taking me to a hospital."

Damiano looked at her, determination in his eyes, trying to make her understand that this was non-negotiable. Just for now, he would forget about the way she was brushing him off, the way she was evading his touch, the way she did not even want to look at him. Because right now she needed him and he would be there for her, if she wanted him to be or not.

"Yes, I am. Final decision. You would do the same for us if we got hurt. But we're responsible for you too, you're part of our crew, and right now, being responsible means getting this checked out. Besides, you're not getting your wallet back until you agree."

As soon as Ethan stepped outside again, this time with a slightly confused-looking Thomas in tow, Damiano snatched the wallet from his hands only to put it in his own jeans pocket. She was mad, obviously turning whatever was bothering her into anger, but Damiano was having none of it and he hoped the look in his eyes told her so.

"Fine! Take me to the hospital. But know that I am not happy about this."

"I don't need you to be. I just need you to come with me."

***

A quick refresher of her rudimentary Dutch verified that she was indeed looking for "spoedeisende hulp", another search on the internet confirmed that there was a hospital nearby, and before she knew it, she had been whisked into a taxi with Damiano. The others had decided to make their way back to the hotel, no point in clogging up the waiting room. Damiano promised to call with any news immediately.

Y/n wouldn't tell him, certainly not right then and there but she was happy that Damiano seemed to take the lead for once. She wouldn't have had any problems had any of the others needed medical help - but having people fuss about her? Making her the center of attention in a way she did not intend to be and having to accept help from others?... It was a completely different story. Still she appreciated the way he handled the situation, making sure she got registered with the administration straight away, listening attentively for further instructions, and leading her into the waiting area. She was also glad that it seemed to be quiet, not only because it would result in less of a wait, but also because the bustling would have made her all the more nervous.

This was out of her comfort zone. She had managed to avoid hospitals for the majority of her life, and yet here she was, because she panicked and couldn't handle her shoes. Looking down at them, she wanted to curse them. Curse the fact that they made her walk over to Damiano and Victoria in the first place, curse the fact that she had heard Damiano speak about her that way, curse the fact that they carried her out the door but not much further. She didn't even know where her actual shoes were. Hopefully, Ethan had kept his head and collected them on the way out after paying.

A few seats down, someone coughed loudly, reminding her exactly of where she was. It wasn't the worst hospital she had ever been in, that much was true, but she would rather not see one from the inside at all. She was dying for some comfort, some soothing words, a gentle touch, but as soon as Damiano made any attempt at reaching out to her she pulled back. His words were still heavily playing on her mind, the swelling of her wrist and the heat that seemed to seep from it a painful reminder. There was no way she was going to let herself fall, be reassured and consoled by him when he was so obviously sick of her presence. She wouldn't do that to either of them. Victoria with all her good intentions be damned. At least right now.

“Why are they not calling you in, it doesn’t even look like they’re doing anything,” Damiano grumbled next to her, eyes on the nurse’s station where a few of them were sitting. A few eyes were on them, something that looked like an excited discussion.

“Stop it, I’m sure they’re busy at work. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean they aren’t”, she bit back, slightly harsher than intended. He shot her a look, eyebrows raised, but she turned away, not looking to have a deeper conversation.

It left Damiano sitting in silence. Leaving both of them in the same situation, again. Y/n and him alone. Well, alone enough. Alone enough to not have anyone distract her from the uncomfortable feeling that settled over them. No Thomas being silly, no Victoria making a dumb comment, no calming presence of Ethan. Through this whole process, Y/n had basically crawled back into herself. She wished she could disappear.

She didn't know how much time had passed when they were finally called, too preoccupied with her own thoughts and the pain in her wrist. The nurse that beckoned them over had the warmest smile on her face, albeit tired eyes and it surprised Y/n how much comfort she found in the soft expression of the woman. White slacks, rolled up sleeves, pockets so full it looked like they were bursting at the seams, dark hair up in a bun. She found herself looking over at Damiano, wondering if he was aware of how gorgeous this woman was, how kind and calming her aura was, but his eyes were trained solely on her. She didn't allow herself to get lost in his gaze, quickly dropping hers and following the nurse into an examination room.

“Hi, I’m Ana, I’m going to be your nurse for today. You only speak English, am I correct?” She asked, gesturing for both of them to sit down, Y/n on the examination table and Damiano on a chair next to it. There was a slight twinge of an accent in her speech, but it was clear that she was fluent, which was a relief. Y/n didn’t even want to think about trying to get this done with the few words she knew in Dutch. She nodded, gratefully. “We’re going to go over what happened, and then I’ll do a physical examination, and the doctor will see you after as well.”

Y/n watched as the nurse fumbled with the computer, seemingly already typing things before Y/n had even said anything. “So, what exactly happened?”

“I, uh, tried on some heels and tripped on the cobblestone outside,” Y/n explained, taking a moment to glare at the offending shoes still on her feet. “Fell forwards, tried to soften the blow with my hands and now my wrist looks like this.” She held up the offending arm, gathering that the sight would speak for itself. The dried blood of the little scrapes on the palms of her hand did its best to make it look more dramatic than it felt.

“Oh, yeah that looks quite painful,” the nurse winced. “I see you’ve scraped your knee as well.”

Y/n looked down, slightly confused, only to realise her jeans had torn, revealing a beat-up knee underneath. Crap, she hadn’t even noticed, too occupied with… well, everything else. This felt like it was getting worse by the second, she never wanted to get back to a hotel room this badly. She felt like crying, but letting Damiano see her composure waver was the last thing she would allow.

“It’s nothing,” she sighed, moving her legs as if it gave her a chance of hiding her bruises.

“It’s not nothing, Y/n,” Damiano sighed next to her, before turning towards the nurse. “I think it’s more serious than she’s letting on.” In the same determined tone from before.

The nurse looked back and forth between the two of them. “It’s probably the shock of it.”

Oh yeah, the shock. Mainly that of finding out that Damiano didn’t want her around, apparently.

The nurse asked a few more questions, time of the accident, previous medical history, medication she was taking regularly, but they barely reached her. She found herself answering curtly, with Damiano filling in where he could. She wouldn’t tell him she was thankful for it. Even though the idea of him taking care of her made her emotional.

“Right, let’s get that wrist looked at then.” Y/n had feared it would be painful but as soon as the nurse started handling her? She knew it was her job to feel the joints, test her range of motion, move her arm. But unwelcome tears emerged in the corners of her eyes. She didn’t have the energy to push Damiano’s hand away, as she almost reveled in the comforting touch on her back. The small talk didn’t even begin to make for a distraction. Yet, something was nagging at the back of Y/n’s head as she watched the nurse interact with Damiano. There was a familiarity in her eyes… Did she know who he was? Surely not.

“This will need an X-Ray to make sure it’s not broken,” the nurse concluded, finally letting go of her wrist. Damiano whispered a quiet ‘You okay?’ over to her, but she couldn’t do anything but nod. “I will bandage the scrapes a bit while we wait for a doctor. So, what brings you to Amsterdam today?”

“Work,” Y/n answered, trying to keep some degree of privacy, but Damiano didn’t seem to mind butting in immediately.

“I’m in a band, we’re on tour. She’s our assistant and overall angel.” She wanted to shoot him a look, both at the unnecessary honesty and the over-the-top way he was describing her, but a touch to her banged-up knee distracted her.

A doctor popped into the room quickly verified everything the nurse had told him And before she knew it she was being led down a hallway to get an X-Ray. Damiano stayed behind in the room.

“Cute couple, the two of you,” the nurse piped up next to her.

“Um, yeah, no. Not a couple. Just a working relationship.”

“You sure about that?”

Y/n almost wanted to stop dead in her tracks, ask the nurse what on earth had given her that idea, but she also knew she was here to get examined and the last thing she wanted to do was annoy the person responsible.

“Very. He doesn’t like me like that, he’s made that crystal clear.”

“Well, he certainly doesn’t look like you in a way that suggests he doesn’t like you. If anything, I would have guessed he was head-over-heels for you.”

Y/n was stumped for a reply. Was this woman making fun of her? She didn’t look like someone who would. So why would she say these things? With a deep sigh and a heavy heart, Y/n decided she would have to talk to Damiano at some point. Have him either stand by his statement and back off, or explain what the hell he was doing. Because she was starting to lack comprehension about any of it.

She was glad the rest of the appointment seemed to fly by in a hurry, or maybe Y/n’s brain had simply gone into power-saving mode, not really taking it what as happening around her anymore. Her exhaustion was tangible. The X-Ray was done quickly enough, someone sent her back to the examination room, and before she knew it, the doctor had announced that it was, in fact, not broken. A quick wrap around her wrist, some instructions on how to care for it (that Damiano seemed to listen to more closely than she did), and she was almost out the door. She was sure she would have fallen asleep on the examination table. It was only the nurse quickly saying her goodbye and adding another comment that almost threw her off balance again.

“Bye, guys. And by the way, nice show yesterday. I promise I wasn’t the one who threw the bra.”

***

It was dark out by the time Y/n and Damiano made it back to the hotel. He had made sure to text the others, telling them to go for dinner without them, they’d be fine, and he figured she would need some rest. The hotel restaurant was quiet enough and he motioned towards it, but Y/n shook her head.

“I’ve got a few snacks in my room, but honestly, I’m not hungry at all. I just want to go to bed.”

Yet, tired as she was, it only took one pointed look for her to shut him up, so he simply nodded and led her towards the elevators.

“At least let me bring you to your room and see if you need any more help. And I can give you your wallet back.”

He could tell in the way she stiffened next to him, the way she barely reacted to his words, that she wasn’t keen on the idea, but he wouldn’t let her get away with it. He was desperate to find out what was bothering her and why she was so distant, but he couldn’t figure it out. Was the kiss still playing on her mind? Was she uncomfortable with him? It was the last thing he wanted. He needed to show her he was willing to be there for her.

Closing the door of her room behind him, a shout rang through the room.

“These fucking things, I hate them!” She was loud and angry while trying to get her shoes off, but her voice was wavering and if he watched her in just the right light he was convinced he was seeing the beginning of tears forming in her eyes.

“Shh, shh, it’s fine,” he tried to soothe, unsure if he was going about it the wrong way, but quickly bending in front of where she was sitting on the bed. She kicked her heels once more in frustration, obviously unable to get them off with her wrist still compromised.

“Don’t shush me when it’s all your fault,” she whispered and he almost stopped dead in his tracks, but he figured she hadn’t meant for him to hear. He stayed quiet, against everything in his heart telling him to find out what she was talking about. Instead, he focused on removing her shoes, gentle touches against her bare skin. Looking up at her, he realised that she was studying him, watching his every move, and he concentrated even harder on being the perfect gentleman. Yet, when he pulled the second shoe off her, he couldn’t help letting his hand rest on her calf a little longer than necessary.

“Come on, let’s get you into some pyjamas,” he decided, getting up and putting some distance between them. Too afraid of getting ahead of himself, of letting his hands wander more than appropriate places, of saying something he shouldn’t. He threw what he gathered to be her sleepwear in her general directions. “If you need any help changing because of your wrist, let me know.”

He hoped his smile was as sincere as he meant it. Either way, she didn’t give him much of a reaction, grabbing the clothes and disappearing into the bathroom. A few sharp hisses reached him through the door, but he knew better than to offer his help again.

He wasn’t sure what the acceptable place for him to sit was, but since the room didn’t offer anything but a worn-out armchair and the bed, he decided that choosing the far side of the mattress wasn’t too bad. He didn’t even realise she had left the en-suite until her voice reached him.

“We really need to talk, Damiano.” She sounded resigned and tired and he wished he could wrap her in his arms and tell her everything was alright, but it didn’t seem like the right time. As soon as she reached the side of the bed opposite him, she all but collapsed on it. She sleepily grabbed one of the many unnecessary hotel pillows they placed on the bed and nuzzled her face into it.

“There will be more than enough time for that tomorrow,” he replied, grabbing the blanket and making sure she was fully covered by it. “It’s been a long day, try to get some rest.”

She didn’t even manage to argue anymore, eyes already fluttering closed, breathing slowly becoming more steady. She was gorgeous like this. A soft calm overtaking the scene. No wall up that kept everyone else from her inner thoughts. No front that she put up in desperate attempts to remain professional. Just a softness etched into her features that highlighted her natural divine beauty.

He wanted to take her worries away. He hoped that whenever they did get to talk tomorrow, it would yield some clarity. The last thing he wanted was for her to ever feel this way. He had grown so attached to her, so obsessed with the idea of having her around, that he already feared the end of the tour. If she would give him any option to stay in her life, he would take it, whatever way it was.

Damiano barely noticed the way he was slipping down on the mattress, his fingers softly patting her head, eyelids getting heavy. The last thing on his mind was Y/n, sleeping soundly next to him and wishing for nothing but to make her happy.

***

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favoniuscodex · 3 years

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inheritance . act one [diluc x reader]

inheritance act one of five: denial arranged marriage royalty au prince!diluc x f!knight!reader

fic summary: you're the heir apparent's key to obtaining the throne you've sworn to protect since you were a child. but in barbatos' domain, where freedom reigns, you must first answer a question: is freedom found in the ability to spread your wings and take flight on mondstadt's winds or is freedom found in the ability to choose to remain flightless?

word count: 19.6k

warnings: alcohol, minor descriptions of wounds and violence, bleeding, pining, oblivious characters, no explicit nsfw, enemies(?) to lovers

fic masterlist

a/n: i’m happy it’s finally done! i’m so excited to share this with you all! i hope you like it. please post here to be on the taglist! characters may be ooc at first but they’ll grow into their rightful personalities, dw! <3

You first met Diluc when you were eight, the boy being two years older than you. It was an accidental meeting. Commoners like you weren’t supposed to be in the palace, but your father was one of the palace’s Royal Knights, assigned to protect the king and his royal family, even at the cost of his life. You were far too young to grasp the political implications of what “serving the throne” actually meant, just believing that it meant you got to run around in cool armor while slaying dragons.

At least, that’s what the colorful storybooks that littered the floor of your childhood room had told you.

The boy had seemed nervous. Much like you at that age, he was a true introvert at heart. His princely duties extended past such nerves as he was forced to cast human consternation and worries aside and extend his hand to you.

“I am Prince Diluc of Mond,” He proudly stated, mustering as much righteousness into his words that a ten-year-old was capable of doing.

You were too young to notice it yet, but such an act was false bravado on the prince’s behalf.

You shook his hand limply, unfamiliar with such formal gestures. A nudge from your father enforced the power dynamic that would persist between you and the prince for years to come, as your father reminded you to bow in respect. After bowing, you stayed quiet for a few more moments before being nudged gently by your father again. A confused look passed over your face before you remembered what you needed to do.

“Oh, I’m (Y/N)!” you giggled. “It’s nice to meet you!”

Diluc stared at you for a moment before a grin broke out onto his face. “My father wanted me to ask if you wanted to come play with my brother and I?”

You looked at Diluc before glancing up at your father for permission, who simply smiled and nodded his goodwill in return. In response, Diluc latched his hand around your wrist and the two of you ran down the hallway to go play pirates.

---

When you were fourteen, Diluc appeared in your life once more.

It’s amusing as to how quickly a mere second encounter can shatter fond memories developed prior.

“This is Knight (Y/L/N),” a fellow knight had introduced you to the prince. “Her duties will consist of protecting the royal family, with a focus on you, my prince.”

The redhead had simply scoffed, looking you up and down with distaste. If he remembered your brief childhood rendezvous, he failed to show it. His eyes glinted with annoyance and his lips curled slightly downwards, yet you bowed in respect, for you had sworn an oath of fealty to the kingdom. Whether the people you watched over agreed or disagreed with your methods mattered not to you, for you had been assigned to this position by the king himself. Anyone who ranked below him could not waver such undying loyalty, even if they were his son.

“She’s my bodyguard?” Diluc’s tone was one of disdain as he folded his arms. “She’s a child. I’d be better off protecting myself, especially since she doesn’t have a vision. I don’t want her.”

Your stoic expression matches Diluc’s slight frown, unshaken by his words. However, you couldn’t say the same for the knight that had re-introduced the two of you. Despite being much older and of higher rank than you, the poor man was shaking in his boots from being reprimanded by the king’s tempestuous son.

“My prince, with all due respect, she is the most promising knight out of the academy in many years. She’s an excellent fighter and chivalrous at heart. I can assure the king has picked only the best knight for you,” your fellow knight insisted as you remained steady.

“My father picked her?” Diluc’s voice softens almost imperceptibly, not having expected such information. “Very well then. Even if I do not believe she is of assistance, I have no capability to argue with one of my father’s orders.”

A wave of relief washes over your superior’s face upon Diluc’s concession. “Thank you, my liege,” He says, genuflecting in the prince’s direction before standing tall and saluting. Diluc’s crimson gaze turns to yours and presses his lips together in a slight frown.

“Well?” The prince snaps, seemingly expecting something of you as he folds his arms. Your stoic expression shatters as you raise an eyebrow. “Do you not have something to say to me as well?”

Oh. You finally understand. He’s not just having a bad day. He’s just an asshat.

“With all due respect, my prince,” You respond, finally breaking your silence. “I am not aware of any words of yours that deserve my gratitude. All three of us are merely following orders.”

You feign innocence at your contemptuous words, biting back a smirk as the haughty redhead glowers at you. The knight next to you looks as if he wants to run away. Sensing his discomfort, Diluc wordlessly waves him off and your eyes flicker away from Diluc’s vermillion gaze to watch the knight salute before marching off, leaving you and your new assignment alone together. Diluc looks you up and down once more, his eyes ablaze with ire at your mere presence.

“What is your name?” Diluc queries. His harsh tone contracts with the societal politeness embedded into his question. “Royal Knight (Y/L/N), sir.” You respond with a quick salute. Diluc stares at you with a mixture of confusion and disgust.

“That is not what I meant. What is your first name?” He clarifies, his vocal inflection making it clear that such a notion should have been obvious to you from the beginning. “You are not a dog, I do not wish to refer to you in such a manner.”

Your lips remain neutral, but you can’t help the confused look that shows in your eyes. It was far too late for him to say such things. He had already treated both you and your superior with disrespect. Nonetheless, as he is a higher rank than you, you answered him. “(Y/N), sir.”

“Well, (Y/N), it appears that we are stuck together. It would be in your best interest not to slow me down,” His words are cavalier and cautionary, yet you discern a faint hint of hollowness in his words, as if he’s not exactly sure what to say or do with you.

You nod in response and give a slight smirk in hopes of easing the tension between the two of you. Diluc doesn’t smile back.

---

A year of being Diluc’s bodyguard (a position akin to being a glorified babysitter, except you have authorization to use lethal force) passes and you find a friend in the most unlikely of places: Diluc’s own brother, Kaeya. The blue-haired boy is a cheerful, charming spirit who took an immediate interest in you upon your first meeting.

“My older brother probably hates you,” He had said and you were unsure as to how to respond until he let out a laugh. “That’s okay. He hates almost everyone. I’m Prince Kaeya!”

Kaeya’s ability to find you on the castle grounds whenever your services are not needed for the elder prince is almost troubling. Any brief moment of peace you have often results in the persistent prince appearing at your side, excited to speak with you about whatever was going on in his life. Kaeya’s determination to become your friend, you soon realized, is rooted in the fact that the prince has little to no interaction with others of his age, something you had also noticed in Diluc’s own life upon your time watching him. Kaeya was not allowed the privilege to have friends his age, something you had taken for granted back in your hometown of Springvale.

“What are you thinking about?” Kaeya asks, the two of you sitting on a bench outside of the knight’s quarters. He bites into one of the apples he had brought along with him, soft crunching noises filling the the silence between you as you attempt to formulate a response.

“Well,” Your eyes flicker to the clusters of windwheel asters planted by the entrance to your residence building. “I am afraid my thoughts are not of much value at the moment.” You draw your words out in order to give yourself time to think of how to phrase your words. “At the moment, my thoughts are not very… kind.” Upon your words, Kaeya’s blue eyes gleam with delight as he leans over closer to you. The boy has pestered you enough to know what such words mean, as they are not a slight to him, but rather disdainful of his older brother.

“Do share them,” Kaeya pleads, his tone eager to hear what complaints you may have about Diluc.

You flatten your hands on the flat surface of the stone bench behind you and look up into the cloudless blue sky, enjoying the feeling of the warm spring sun on your skin as you utter your next words, “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“Yes, yes!” Kaeya laughs, excitedly. “Share your vile thoughts so the world may cast their judgement upon the wicked sinfulness that reverberates in your mind!”

You snap your head to the boy next to you and stare at him with wide eyes at his words. The second your eyes meet his playful ones, the both of you break out into raucous laughter at his theatrics. His tone was haughty, mimicking many of the stuffy elites the two of you were surrounded by, including Diluc. At times like these, you were reminded that Kaeya was an outsider to the palace, just like you were, yet the hierarchy of the two of your duties separated you from him.

“Okay, okay,” You huff, trying to catch your breath from laughing. Kaeya simmers down upon realizing you are about to talk and looks at you expectantly, leaning slightly in your direction. “Yes, it’s about him.” The two of you burst into laughter once more.

“When is it not?” Kaeya giggles. “He’s so weird with you compared to how he acts with me.”

“That’s because you’re his brother. Of course he’s going to be nicer to you.” You explain before shaking your head slightly and swatting your hand through the air to signal that such a topic of conversation is something you did not wish to focus upon. “Anyways, today we were in another one of those stuffy formality meetings with some Inazuman diplomates. Y’know, those ones. And I’m standing by the door, keeping watch, like… it’s the usual kind of stuff I’m supposed to do. The meeting was supposed to be two hours, but Diluc’s refusal to compromise made the meeting run over it’s designated time by an hour. I swear, if not for the fact that it would cause an international scandal, Diluc and the diplomat guy would’ve started fighting each other.”

Kaeya’s eyebrows raise at your last statement and he laughs once more. “That’s Diluc for you. He means well but is awful at showing it to most people. He just… really believes in himself.”

“He shouldn’t,” You respond before clapping a hand over your mouth in shock as Kaeya roars with joy at your words, relishing in your loss of respect for the redheaded prince in your words. “I… I don’t mean it like that! I just mean… he’s still young. Such an unshakable perspective on international relations will only lead to foreign envoys viewing him poorly.”

“Yes, I wholeheartedly agree, but neither of us want to tell him this. He’d just scream at you and would give me the cold shoulder,” Kaeya muses as he outstretches a hand to you, offering one of the untouched apples he had brought along to you. You nod your appreciation and take the apple, piercing through its skin with your teeth as you bite into the red fruit.

“Prince Diluc does like to lecture his subordinates,” You agree after swallowing. “Especially me.”

“Don’t take it personally,” Kaeya advises with an optimistic smile. “If he’s willingly speaking to you at all, it means he likes you. He just does a piss poor job at showing it to anyone outside of the family.”

“Because he’s entitled.” You respond and Kaeya winks at you, gesturing his approval in your direction.

“Precisely! Now you’re getting it!”

---

On your sixteenth birthday, Diluc provides no well-wishes, but manages to give you the best present of all: a better attitude. His words are no longer infused with the disdain he once held for you, but rather coated with only a slight annoyance. With Diluc, you’ll take any improvement you can get. The change in his demeanor had left you reeling after a mere ten-word question, the whiplash from the complete upheaval of his attitude stunning you into silence.

“Would you care to go to the market with me?” Diluc had asked absentmindedly, focused on his paperwork at hand.

You had stood by the entrance to his personal study, warding off any unwanted visitors with your daunting presence and stoic demeanor. Despite how intimidating the other maids found you, Diluc had paid this unapproachable disposition of yours no mind, much to your gratitude. But as the rather innocent question fell from the prince’s lips, you couldn’t help but to look around and reassure that no one else had slipped into the room and evaded your watchful eye.

Diluc had given you a choice with his question -- an action he had never performed before.

Irked by your silence, Diluc set his pen down and looked up at you expectantly, folding his hands together and resting them on the desk in front of him. “Well?” He scoffed.

“Visiting Mondstadt’s main street would be nice,” You responded, unsure of your words. With Diluc, you were always unsure of your words. “Would you like me to assemble a party of knights to accompany us?”

Diluc let out a sigh and shook his head, leaning back in his chair. “I do not wish to attract unwanted attention with such procedures. I simply wish to get a breath of fresh air. Only your presence is requested, unless you believe it is unwise for me to leave with so few men by my side.” The boy’s words were inquisitive, holding an unfamiliar softness to him. The realization that the prince is genuinely seeking your approval of his plan caused you to bite back a smile in fear of spoiling his uncharacteristically pleasant mood.

Therefore, rather than rushing an answer to his response, you mulled it over. You had no reservations about your own fighting skills, having been chosen for your current position due to your highly proficient swordsmanship. Additionally, you knew of Diluc’s training with both his Pyro vision and his claymore, so you had few worries for the prince being able to handle his own. Both of these factors combined meant that you only had one issue to worry about.

“Well, according to protocol, a departure from the palace grounds would require multiple guards to be at your side,” You speculated, watching as Diluc’s shoulders fell slightly as he let out a huff of contempt. He lifted up his pen and prepared to work once more, but your additional words caused him to cease this motion. “But… I believe there is a way we can bypass these regulations, but I am not quite sure if you will enjoy it.”

Your plan leads to you standing in the main square of Mondstadt, hands clasped together as you watch a group of children run around the fountain. You are standing in your typical Royal Knight uniform with your weapon strapped to your back. At your side stands Prince Diluc, disguised as a fellow Royal Knight, much to his behest. His claymore rests upon his back, ready for him to wield should any evil-doers elected to make their presences known.

For Diluc, his cherry-colored hair and matching eyes do little to disguise him, but his typical introversion aids him, as the average Mondstadtian is unlikely to recognize their prince and, for those that do, are unlikely to believe that their prince is dressed up in Royal Knight attire and perusing the shops of Mondstadt with only one knight by his side. Your illicit plan, which involved smuggling a spare uniform into the castle then proceeding to sneak the prince wearing said uniform out of the castle, relies now upon one thing: the stupidity of your fellow citizens.

For your job’s sake, you pray to Barbatos that it works.

“I do not enjoy this outfit,” Diluc grumbles next to you, causing your attention to snap from watching the commoners of Mondstadt and instead to the prince of said kingdom. He pinches at some of the fabric on his leg, stretching it around in hopes of making the outfit more comfortable. You have never had any issues with said uniform, but then again, you aren’t a prince who has all of his clothes custom tailored to his build.

“To achieve true happiness, we all have to do things we don’t exactly like to do.” You chirp. Diluc’s aloof visage is now marred by furrowed eyebrows as he tries to decipher any potential hidden meanings behind your potentially parabolic words. However, you fail to give him proper time to ruminate, instead deciding to speak once more. “Where were you hoping to visit, sir?”

Diluc returns to his usual silence, but a faint flush that appears on his cheeks notifies you of his bashfulness.

“I’m… not sure,” He admits. If you did not have a code of conduct to follow, you would be screeching in delight at Diluc, the arrogant prince of Mond, finally admitting he does not know something. “I do not often have the chance to visit the heart of the city, especially in such a leisurely manner. However, you are from here, are you not?”

“I am from Springvale, sir.” You respond, forgoing your typical formality of my prince. After all, such a title would immediately blow Diluc’s cover. The redhead looks crestfallen at your words. “But… I resided in Mondstadt with my father while training to be a knight. I won’t be as good of a tour guide as a local, but I should be decent.”

“Do you know of any… eating establishments?” Diluc asks. You narrowly avoid sending a judgemental look his way at his wording. Did he not know they were called restaurants? Had Diluc never been to a restaurant? You were baffled.

“Do you prefer a to-go restaurant or a sit-down restaurant, sir?” You question and Diluc’s relaxed expression turns into one of befuddlement. Well, that answered the question if Diluc had ever experienced the basic societal activity that was eating at a restaurant. You knew royals were detached from society, but you never would have thought it to be this bad.

“Alright,” You say after a few beats of silence, smart enough to know that Diluc isn’t going to respond. The redhead’s expression returns to his typical indifferent one. “We’ll go to a sit-down restaurant, if that’s okay. A bit more expensive, but it’s probably the most immersive experience for eating at a restaurant for the first time.”

“I have been to a restaurant before,” Diluc lies, trying to save face as his cheeks begin to tint with pink upon realizing that you’ve seen right through him. You look at him blankly and his eyebrows twitch in annoyance upon his revelation that you weren’t buying his protests. “Fine, then. Lead the way.”

His typical annoyed tone is back. Well, kind Diluc was nice while it lasted, you think, rolling your shoulders slightly in preparation for his typical attitude. You nod in response and begin to walk. The prince matches your pace, determined to not fall behind someone of a lower rank than him.

---

You start to wonder if everyone in Mondstadt is pretending to be oblivious to the prince in their presence or if they’re actually just that stupid.

It’s a miracle that you managed to corral the prince’s confident attitude long enough to get him to sit down and order some food at The Good Hunter. Upon your arrival, Diluc managed to ignore the politely worded “Please wait to be seated” sign and started to walk past the hostess table, determined to seat himself. You had to pull him back to you by yanking his arm, an action that surely would have made Diluc lecture you for fifteen minutes, if not for the fact that he was still undercover. Instead, he settled for a scathing glare which only worsened as you gestured at the sign in front of the two of you.

Additionally, the prince was baffled by the entire ordering process, especially upon you informing him that it would take upwards of thirty minutes to receive your food. He was put off by the fact the chefs wouldn’t drop everything just to serve him first, to which you had simply taken a sip of your drink and not responded to such opinions. Now, the two of you were sitting in silence as your gaze fluttered around the restaurant and any passerbys, analyzing for potential threats. You found comfort in the silence as you were used to standing vigilant and quiet through your duty as Diluc’s personal Royal Knight.

“You are quiet,” Diluc states, his words almost an accusation. You look at him inquisitively, your gaze moving from the entrance to his red hues. You tilt your head slightly at his statement, signalling your confusion at his words. Diluc lets out a huff, bothered by your petulant, purposefully silent response. “You never speak unless if spoken to.”

“Would you prefer if I talk more, sir?” You ask. After all, you served the throne, which extended to Diluc. Any wish of his was your command, even if you thought he was generally an uppity, self-absorbed jerk. His eyes narrow slightly.

“I typically appreciate your silence,” Diluc confesses. It doesn’t feel like a compliment. “But now? It is quite irritating.” The prince stares you down, awaiting your reply.

“If I may ask, sir, why is such a thing irritating?” You question, turning your gaze back to the entrance as you speak. “I am merely observing the building for any potential threats to your life.”

“Look around, (Y/N),” Diluc says exasperatedly, as if his answer should be obvious. Yeah, that’s what I’ve been doing, you think bitterly, but elect to keep such thoughts to yourself. “Everyone here is speaking with someone else. Such social interactions are a simplicity of life commoners take for granted. The ability to speak freely with a non-familial companion is something I envy.”

Your gaze snaps back to the prince and you raise your eyebrows. “Is a wish for such companionship why you wished to go to the market, sir? To be a part of the lower citizenry?”

The prince breaks from staring at you, instead electing to study his hands in his lap, flustered by such a straightforward question. “I wish to better understand my subjects, yes. But I also wish to have the same liberties as them. I long for the freedom for platonic association with others of my age.”

“So…” You trail off for a second, lost in thought. “You want friends?”

The prince smiles bitterly at his friends. “Yes,” He answers truthfully. The single word is imbued with intense envy. “Everyone in my life, apart from my father and my brother, is placed in my life to placate me, rather than to accompany me.”

Your eyebrows raise briefly at his confession, perplexed as to why the prince is being so forthright and honest with you. For a split second, you wonder if the prince is swallowing his pride and asking to be your friend, but you quickly shoo such a childish thought out of your brain. You quickly determine that the prince isn’t interested in friendship, but rather wishes to use his subordinates, such as yourself, to fill the void in his heart. You decide to placate him nonetheless with a soft smile.

“Companionship is what you make of it,” You suggest, leaving your words vague as you lean back against your seat, crossing your arms and returning to watching the interest. The two of you fall into a silence once more, before Diluc speaks once more.

“I do not know much about you.” The redhead states. “Where are you from?”

For a man who wanted friends, he’s awfully bad at remembering information about his companions, you think. But you’ll gladly take the forced conversation with Diluc over him barking orders and insults at you all the time. You are well aware that you’ve sworn to protect the throne, even at the cost of your life, but you can’t help the desire for freedom from such burdens that swims in the depths of your mind.

“Springvale,” You echo absentmindedly. You barely hold yourself back from asking where he’s from, even if it would be funny to see his face twist in frustration at your teasing. “I was born there, but moved away at the age of ten to begin training to be a Knight of Favonius. Things changed and I ended up as a Royal Knight instead.”

Diluc’s interest is piqued at your words. You can’t help the feeling of discomfort that washes over you upon the sudden realization that you’re having a friendly conversation with your superior, a man who can barely tolerate your presence on a good day. He seems to be trying, though, and you can’t help but sympathize with his loneliness. As his personal guard, you’d be the first to say that Prince Diluc has very few friends.

“Why did you elect to become a Royal Knight rather than a Knight of Favonius?” Diluc asks, his crimson eyes staring at you.

“Permission to speak freely?” You requested, the words feeling foreign on your tongue. The question that you constantly asked his younger brother was now difficult to get out. Diluc’s eyes widen slightly, startled at your request, but his relaxed visage quickly returns, disguising his emotions once more.

“Permission granted.” Diluc says. The words feel jarring coming from him and you can tell he feels the same discomfort you do at this sudden change in professionalism between the two of you, yet he makes no move to change the topic of conversation or to stop you from speaking.

“My personal view on the Knights of Favonius is that…” Your words sound distant as you try to find the proper way of phrasing what you need to say. “They’re inefficient. Most of the Knights within Ordo Favonius prefer to serve themselves rather than the community of Mondstadt as a whole. They’re there because it’s a well-paying job. They dislike anything that threatens their reputation and job security.”

At that moment, you had no idea how seriously Diluc would take your words and the lasting impact such a confession would have on him.

---

You’re seventeen when you encounter the worst threat to the palace yet. You had been alone, forced to fight an Abyss Mage who had breached Mondstadt’s walls and headed in the direction of the palace. You had destroyed its shield by throwing a rock at a nearby exploding barrel on the wall. The resulting explosion had alerted nearby knights of the Abyss Mage’s presence, but the creature’s Cryo magic had severely frostbitten your arm before any help could arrive. In return, you had wielded your sword with a single hand and delivered the killing blow to the creature.

The Knights of Favonius weren’t happy with your decision to kill the creature, stating that having an abyss mage in their possession could have been a valuable resource. Helping the Knights of Favonius with their research wasn’t your job -- protecting the throne was. Therefore, you had no regrets about your decision to kill the gremlin who had almost taken your arm.

You sit on a bed in the Cathedral’s infirmary as a healer frets over your arm, using the power of their Anemo vision to speed up the healing process. The frostbite was recoverable, they had told you, but it would likely result in permanent scarring. To ensure full use of your arm would return, you were recommended to take a leave of absence from your protective duties in the palace for the following month.

While you were happy to be alive, you were irritated that such a situation would put you out of work for the next month. Sure, your position wasn’t the greatest, but it was a stepping stone to a better position within the Royal Knights, such as becoming one of the king’s personal knights or one of the organizers of palace operations. The organization itself focused on palace operations, which meant there wasn’t much room for growth as compared to the Knights of Favonius, who protected Mondstadt’s citizenry.

A month out of work meant a month less of progress in your career and, more importantly, a month less of protecting the throne you had sworn your life to protect. Your fate of becoming a knight was a decision you had made at a young age, clueless and starry-eyed, as you watched your father perform his duties around the palace. He had been a high-ranking Royal Knight, one of King Crepus’s personal entourage. He had wholeheartedly believed in everything the throne of Mond stood for, declaring that the throne protected the freedom of Mond’s people and fulfilled Barbatos’s wishes. As you trusted and idolized your father, you also inherited his same ideologies, locking you into a permanent life of duty as you swore to help defend Mond’s royal family from harm.

You had made that promise when you were ten and had yet to doubt it, seven years later.

The door to your infirmary room swings open and you watch the healer, still fussing over your arm as he applies new bandages, jump slightly at the unexpected intrusion. Despite the pain medications that the Sisters had given you before the healer began his work, your arm still throbs in pain, causing you to let out a hiss as the healer moves your arm in the midst of his surprise. He mutters a slight apology, but you’re more distracted by the intruder.

Your eyes widen in surprise, not having expected the intruder to be none other than Prince Diluc. His eyes flicker to your arm and, despite how the pain medication swirls your vision and jumbles your thoughts, you can see the irked disappointment in his eyes at your injury. Such a wound only results in inconvenience for him as he now needs to have a temporary replacement knight, who is unfamiliar with his typical protocols and routines. The prince lets out a long sigh.

“What? My supposed best knight is unable to handle some cryo slimes?” Diluc scoffs derisively.

Since your birthday last year, your relationship with Diluc has improved somewhat. Speaking to him often resulted in stiff, awkward conversation, but it is an upgrade from before, where talking to the prince in an amicable manner wasn’t even an option. More often than not, it would be the prince initiating awkward conversation between the two of you, not quite sure how to interact with someone his age outside without the use of diplomatic charm. The prince, just under two years older than you, didn’t seem interested in being your friend, but you also weren’t sure what to make of his platonic advances.

But now, as you sat in the Cathedral’s infirmary, you realized Diluc wasn’t here to provide friendship. He was just here to lecture you about your mistake of choosing to fight an Abyss Mage, about how you should’ve just let another knight deal with him, and about how you should have sacrificed the potential safety of the throne for his immediate comfort.

“Wasn’t any slimes,” Your lips are heavy as you struggle to form the words without slurring them together. “Was an Abyss Mage. Cryo one.” Your mind churns as you try your absolute hardest to focus on the situation at hand. Diluc’s in the room, you remind yourself as you fight the urge to slump back and fall asleep. You stare at Diluc, eyelids drooping with fatigue. You notice your fresh bandages turning red once more, causing the healer to sigh and apply more to your arm.

The prince is silent, but you see a quick flash of fear pass over his face, followed by an expression of concern. Both emotions are short-lived as he readjusts his posture and presses his lips into a frown, crosses his arms, and shifts his weight onto one leg.

“You should not have fought an Abyss Ma-,” He begins, but a loud bark of a laugh erupts from your system, interrupting him.

“H… Have you ever fought anything?” Your words are accusatory and borderline incoherent, but the narrowing of Diluc’s eyes lets you know that he understood what you had just said. “All… all you do is sit around! And… and… and you waste your vision! Everyone does everything… for you… I fight to protect you… your family… I don’t want to get injured, but here I am…”

The healer, upon realizing that you’re disrespecting the crown prince of Mond, wordlessly excuses himself from the situation and slips past Diluc to exit the room. Diluc parts his lips, ready to speak again, as a scowl crosses his face at your disrespectful words. However, before the redhead can speak once more, you raise a shaky hand, holding up your middle finger to the prince.

“If you’re… if you’re just gonna lecture me for… risking my life… for you… eat shit.” You manage to say, words garbled. You relish in the widening of Diluc’s eyes as he opens his mouth to yell before closing your eyes and promptly falling asleep, slumping over on the infirmary bed.

---

You awoke the next day with no recollection of the prior day’s events, except an innate sense of satisfaction, as if you had gotten something off your chest. Nervous that you had potentially said something foul to someone you shouldn’t have, you awaited a formal reprimanding of your unknown actions, but never received one.

Now, two weeks in, you’re finally getting back to normal as you water the plants outside of the knight’s quarters, having been assigned to take care of the landscaping today. Despite the tasks being relatively easy, they took you a while to complete due to one of your arms being stuck in a sling. You crouch over, trying to balance as you lean forward to water one of the red flowers stuck in the back of the arrangement.

“Hey!” A voice calls, causing you to drop the watering can in surprise, the water sloshing over your feet and onto the cobblestone around you. You lose your balance and fall backwards, landing on your butt, but before you can lecture the person who scared you, you feel two hands place themselves on each side of your waist.

“Up we go!” A familiar voice sings before hoisting you up to stand back on your own two feet. You turn around and narrow your eyes at him, placing the hand holding the empty watering can on your hip. The blue-haired boy before you smiles unabashedly, utterly pleased with himself. “Anything to save a damsel in distress!” “Yeah, I’m definitely defenseless,” You grumble sarcastically as the boy takes the watering can from you. His physique has changed over the years due to his interest in becoming a high ranking Knight of Favonius, but both his azure eyes still gleam with childlike mischief. He nudges your uninjured arm playfully.

“Aw, cheer up! You’re the toughest one-armed fighter I know!” Kaeya jests. You roll your eyes in response, biting back a smirk at his antics.

“I’m the only one-armed fighter you know.” You respond as Kaeya gently grabs your wrist and guides you to the bench where the two of you typically sit.

“Two weeks ago. What happened?” Kaeya asks, gesturing to your arm. You tilt your head, confused at his question. Surely he’s heard about it by now..? You think to yourself.

“An Abyss Mage got past Mondstadt’s outer walls, I was on break when I saw it, and I had to fight it, sir.” You explain quickly, but Kaeya simply shakes his head in response.

“No, not that! What happened in the infirmary?” His voice is teasing, but your blood can’t help but run cold at his words. Your intuition that something had happened between the time you arrived at the infirmary and before you fell asleep was correct. Much to your chagrin, you hadn’t been able to remember your actions, but apparently they were remarkable enough for the younger prince to have heard about them.

You let out a groan and rub your free hand over your face, already mortified by your actions that you had no recollection of. Kaeya lets out a laugh.

“Diluc visited you,” He explains, causing you to let out an even louder, more obnoxious groan. You lean forward on the bench, resting your elbow in your knee and cradling your forehead in your uninjured hand.

“Oh gods, what did I say?” You whined. After years of friendship with the younger prince, he had insisted you no longer be so formal with him. Honorifics slipped into your speech on rare occasions, but you generally spoke to Kaeya in the same way you would speak to your friends back home in Springvale.

Kaeya laughs at your theatrics. “Well, you weren’t very nice. You told him to, and I quote, ‘eat shit’ if he wanted to yell at you.”

You let out a noise of horror and Kaeya’s laughter at your embarrassment shakes his whole body. Glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, the younger prince is absolutely delighted in your misery at the situation at hand.

“That’s not all! You also gave him the middle finger!” Kaeya giggles, nudging you as you continue your woeful theatrics. “You didn’t even use the right finger. You were trying to give him the middle finger but you used your pointer finger!”

You want to die. Heat is rising to your face so quickly that you swear you are going to faint. Kaeya pauses as your theatrics die down as you begin to hyperventilate, panicked at the situation at hand. Not only did you tell the crown prince to eat shit, you had also attempted to give him an inflammatory gesture and managed to mess up said gesture. Your career was over, you would become a disgrace to the nation, and, at the worst, you could be thrown in jail for such disrespect to the royal family.

You were a disgrace to the royal throne you swore your life to serve.

Heaving air in and out, you sit up, trying to keep your balance and not pass out from stress. Your eyes brim with tears and Kaeya looks at you in alarm. His hand finds your back, rubbing soothing circles that do little to placate your panic.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay!” He tries to soothe over your worries. “Someone had to tell Diluc that at some point!”

You let out a choked sob, leaning over once more. “T… that doesn’t help,” You whimpered. Kaeya’s blue eyes stare at your hunched over form, his blue irises swimming with regret and distress at your current state.

“Um… my dad found it funny?” Kaeya tries once more. Your sobs only worsen, causing Kaeya to clench his teeth at his own words.

“The king even knows about my irreverent actions?” You cry and Kaeya’s stress upon seeing your own stress only worsens. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you in for a side-hug, rubbing his hand up and down on your shoulder in a calming manner. “You’re not in trouble, Diluc’s not mad… anymore, at least.”

Your crying turns into soft sniffles and Kaeya thanks Barbatos that he was able to calm you down. Wiping your tears away with the back of your hand, you let out a shaky sigh.

“I can’t believe I did that,” You breathe and Kaeya lets out a soft, reassuring chuckle.

“We all make mistakes, plus you were on some heavy medication!” He pauses as you look over at him and bites his lip slightly, as if he wants to say something more. You look at him expectantly and he lets out a soft sigh of defeat at your watery eyes pleading for him to continue. “Plus… I think Diluc kinda likes it when you yell at him.”

“You’re gross,” You whine, voice still wet with tears, but you manage out a soft laugh after your words. “No, he doesn’t.” “You’d be surprised about how he feels about you,” Kaeya teases, but you detect faint traces of sincerity and, if you focus hard enough, jealousy. Rather than dwelling on hidden meanings, you elect to take the blue-haired boy’s words at face value, nudging him back and giving him a look of faux disgust before letting out a soft giggle. He laughs and squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. “You’re so much prettier when you laugh, (Y/N)!”

You let out a soft laugh at his words, “Yeah, I’m sure I look spectacular right now.”

---

Diluc spots you from afar, recognizing your familiar figure crouched over windwheel asters in front of the knight’s chambers. He’s perusing the grounds on a routine walk as his bumbling replacement Royal Knight clambers after him in your absence. The replacement knight is lanky and nervous, filling comfortable silence with nervous chatter, despite Diluc’s best attempts to dissuade him from such actions. He’s an archer with barely enough arm strength to pull the bowstring back.

The red-eyed prince would never admit it to anyone, but he missed you. Not only did you make Diluc feel far more secure than the inept oaf that could barely keep up with him, but Diluc also missed your presence. He missed how you would speak with a slight edge to your tone, adding a dual meaning to your respectful words. Diluc missed the challenge you would provide him.

Even if he was on his deathbed, Diluc would never admit how his heart rate quickened and how heat rose to his face when you yelled at him with the disdain he always showed you. He would never admit how worried he was when you immediately passed out after doing so, blood seeping past your haphazardly applied bandages and spilling onto the floor. No, Diluc would never admit how his thoughts over the last two weeks had primarily consisted of you, even though the two of you had not yet spoken.

Diluc wasn’t sure what to make of his thoughts, nor his altered emotions when you were around. Despite the fact that his tempestuous attitude made him detest the way you were constantly on his mind, a larger part of him wished to keep you close and have you serving the throne at his side once again.

The blundering knight catches up to Diluc as the redhead’s brisk pace slows to a halt as he observes you. After an unknown amount of time, the knight clears his throat, snapping Diluc out of his reverie. The redhead watches you for a moment more. His stomach churns as he watches his younger brother approach you, hold you close, and make you laugh.

Diluc isn’t sure what this feeling that’s gnawing away at his stomach is. A part of his brain tells him that it’s obvious, but Diluc denies such obvious truths, knowing he, one of royal blood, would feel such an emotion over a mere commoner and subordinate of his. Watching you with Kaeya, however, brings an immense frustration to the forefront of Diluc’s thoughts. A scowl forms on the crown prince’s face as he whips his head to the direction of the inept fool that’s been assigned to protect him.

“Let’s go,” He snaps. The knight shakily salutes in response, his composure shaken yet again by Diluc’s sour temperament.

---

Two more weeks pass and you’re officially freed from the restrictions placed upon your duties. After passing a clearance test at the Cathedral which resulted in the destruction of multiple training dummies, you were cleared for full duty as a Royal Knight once more. You were thrilled to be free from the chains of the menial labor you had been assigned for the last month and excited to get back to work, but such feelings were also accompanied with unease. You had a pit in your stomach at the thought of going back to serve the prince that you had so blatantly deprecated.

But, nonetheless, you enter Diluc’s chambers, your typical neutral expression adorning your face. The prince looks up from his desk, slightly startled by the intrusion, but a brief smirk crosses over his face at your presence before returning to a stoic expression, almost as if he was mimicking your own. He parts his lips to speak, but before he can, you drop yourself down on one knee, genuflecting in his direction. You don’t make eye contact, electing to stare down at your knee instead.

“Please forgive my spiteful words I uttered upon our last meeting, my liege,” You request, uttering the words you had practiced many times in the mirror this morning while getting ready. “I was not in the right frame of mind.”

Diluc stares down at you, expression unreadable. The silence is nearly unbearable, suffocating you as the tendrils of embarrassment and shame swirl up your legs, around your torso, and settle on your throat before pressing down, choking you of air. You feel a flush of heat rise to your face as the seconds tick on. You’re unsure if the prince is going to speak at all, let alone forgive you, but your doubts are quelled as he clears his throat.

You look up at him to see narrowed crimson hues staring down at you sternly.

“Very well. Do not say such things ever again,” Diluc warns. You jump to your feet and salute in his direction.

“Yes, sir!” You respond and the prince lets out a huff before returning his attention to the papers on his desk once more. You move to stand watch by the door, but the prince clearing his throat once more has you turning around to look at him again.

“Oh, and (Y/N)?” Diluc questions and you brace yourself, ready for him to unload his anger upon you. However, he does no such thing. “I have a meeting at nine with some Sumerian scholars interested in Mondstadt’s alchemic discoveries. Don’t let me be late.” The redhead doesn’t look up, already having begun moving his pen across the papers in front of him once more.

“Understood, sir.” You respond as you reach your typical spot by the door. You bite back a smile as you stand guard.

---

Over the next several months, you notice major changes in Diluc’s demeanor and attitude towards you. The prince is more confident, but in a less suffocating, arrogant manner, but rather a more charming manner. He remains an introvert, but his diplomatic meetings end up with far better results due to him learning to navigate the rough tides of foreign relationships and his mastering of hollow platitudes to placate any overseas dignitaries. He’s no longer a brash and tempestuous presence in the field of international relations, but one made of falsified smiles and foreign appeasement.

For once, you look at Diluc and see not only a prince, but the rightful heir to the throne.

The change isn’t instantaneous, but for Diluc’s personality to have made such a massive change in such a short time, you realize that there must be something the prince is trying to work toward or someone he desires to impress. Despite being at his side for almost his entire day, from when he starts work in the morning to when he retires to his chambers at night, you aren’t entirely sure what his motivation is.

You figure it’s likely something his father said to him, due to their frequent meetings you aren’t present for. Even from your earliest days working as Diluc’s bodyguard, you could tell he valued his familial relationships above all else. While he often remained hot-tempered with Kaeya, his relationship with his father was amicable and one Diluc cherished. From the few times you had been in King Crepus’s presence, the king had showcased what the throne of Mond should stand for; he put the freedom of his constituents first and reigned only to ensure order and protection for the people within Mond.

Your few interactions with the king had such a positive impact on you that they, along with your father’s actions, spurred you to join the Royal Knights. You could only imagine what type of influence the king’s constant presence had on Diluc.

Most noticeably of all, however, was Diluc’s attitude towards you. He was no Kaeya in terms of charm nor friendliness, but silences between the two of you were no longer forced and neither was conversation. The crown prince was more attentive to which types of conversation seemed to genuinely interest you, as compared to forced small talk. He also understood that silence wasn’t a form of punishment, nor did it signal that he was angry.

You wonder if he changed due to your conversation at the infirmary. Diluc lectured you less, sent less scornful looks your way, and insulted your skills less frequently. The changes had been so subtle that you hadn’t noticed how Diluc had blurred the lines between being a person whom you guard only due to obligation to someone you would protect without hesitation until the two of you browse Mondstadt’s yearly winter market together.

Diluc’s carmine irises glint with the reflection of the white Christmas lights adorning the square as he peered into the windows of a bakery. He seems quietly enraptured by a miniature palace that sat in the center of the cakes and other delicacies, made out of gingerbread. As you turn to look around at everyone else, ever vigilant, you notice the prince suddenly snap his gaze away from the display and look around wide-eyed.

You begin to reach for the hilt of your sword that rests on your back, but you freeze when Diluc’s vision stabilizes on you. His stance relaxes and the redhead offers you a small smile before waving for you to come over. You drop your hand that now rests on the hilt of your blade to your side and begin to walk over, watching as Diluc stares at you in slight confusion before letting out a soft laugh.

At that moment, you realize something that fourteen-year-old you would have loathed you for saying: you would call Prince Diluc a friend.

“Have you ever had gingerbread before?” Diluc asks, turning his gaze from you to read the label underneath the castle.

You nod your head. “It’s made with um… cinnamon… cloves… not sure what else, but the gingerbread in the window’s probably crunchy and… not really sweet? It relies on the taste of the spices within it, not sugar.”

The prince looks thoughtfully at the gingerbread palace once more. “I know what gingerbread is, but do people really eat these… ornate structures?” His tone is confused, but sincere. You let out a soft laugh of amusement. The old Diluc would have interpreted it as an act of derision, but current Diluc simply awaits your answer.

“Oh, that’s a tradition to put them into houses and buildings and such, but you can also shape it into little gingerbread men. Those are my favorite! Typically the smaller decorations are eaten first, but people don’t really eat the big houses,” You elaborate, excited to talk about the desserts as you also ogle the gingerbread display. Diluc looks at you halfway through your speech and smiles softly at your warm tone, pleased to have evoked such a reaction from you.

“Wait out here,” Diluc orders and, before you can protest, the crown prince slips into the shop, the bells on its door chiming softly as he enters. You stand by the door, your gaze moving from peering through the glass at Diluc to watching the commoners walk by. Only a few moments later, the bells chime once again as Diluc exits. A small paper bag is in his hand and he opens it up.

“Hold out your hand,” He orders in a sharp tone while looking into the bag. You comply, flattening your hand and holding it in front of you. Diluc plops a small gingerbread man in your hand. “It reminded me of you.”

The cookie is a traditional knight dressed in armor and is decorated with royal purple frosting and a white sword in its left hand. You stare at it for a moment, before a wide grin breaks out on your face, shattering your aloof expression.

“Thank you,” You murmur softly. Diluc’s cheeks flush red at your praise, but you attribute such a change in his appearance to be caused by the temperature change from exiting the warm building.

---

Diluc, you have come to find, is easily distracted by storefronts. Even his stoic demeanor cannot hide the childlike awe in his eyes when he sees something interesting in a window display. He’s dragged you in and out of numerous stores after being enraptured by objects in the windows. It’s bad enough that the both of you are now carrying bags of various trinkets he’s purchased with his seemingly limitless funds. Diluc, you note, doesn’t seem to get out much.

While you enjoy the chance to shop and explore Mondstadt’s seasonal festivities, you do not enjoy the snowfall that coats your hair and uniform as you wait outside each shop, standing watch. Despite being bundled up in layers, you’re still cold from standing still for so long.

Diluc exits yet another shop and stifles a yawn. “I believe I should head back now. It’s getting late,” He mutters and you simply nod in response, following his lead as he begins to walk back to the castle. The two of you walk in silence as the chatter of Mondstadt’s civilians and the crunching of your shoes on freshly fallen snow fill the gaps.

After a few minutes of trying to hold it in, you can’t help but shiver at the cold. You feel a bit of heat rise to your face, embarrassed that a knight of your stature is shivering due to cold, and it only multiplies as Diluc suddenly stops next to you.

“Are you cold?” The redhead asks, his gaze intense.

“No,” You lie, shaking your head. His eyes narrow.

“Take my scarf,” He orders, but you shake your head once more.

“I couldn’t possibly do such a thing,” You refuse politely, but Diluc isn’t having any of it.

“You’re cold, therefore take the scarf,” His explanation is rough and laced with the typical tone of annoyance you’re all too familiar with. He begins to unwind his scarf from around his neck.

“It’s my duty to ensure your comfort,” You protest. “Therefore, you keep the scarf as you should stay warm.”

“It would make me more comfortable if you wore the scarf instead.” Diluc argues and you swear you see his eye twitch slightly. “Plus, what kind of prince would I be if I let my constituents suffer on my behalf?”

Bullseye. He knew right where to hit you, despite his irate and annoyed tone. That bastard knew to appeal to your sense of honor in order to get you to do something. Begrudgingly, you hold out your hand to take the scarf, but before you can stop him, Diluc’s stepping close to you and wrapping the scarf around your neck for you. He forms two loose loops around your neck and you can feel his breath on your face as he looks at your neck. The prince’s leather-gloved fingertips brush against your neck as he adjusts the scarf and you watch his eyes narrow slightly in concentration as he fixes the scarf.

“There,” He almost sneers upon deciding that the scarf’s placement was adequate enough. “Now was that so hard?” Without waiting for your response, the prince turns and continues walking back to the castle. You pause for a moment, flustered, before jogging after him slightly to catch up.

The two of you continue your walk in silence, but the warmth of the scarf does nothing to eliminate the chill of the blade strapped to your back, reminding you that your and Diluc’s relationship is no more than one of contractual obligation.

---

Diluc’s kind behavior lasts for about two more years. The prince, now twenty, departs Mondstadt’s capital for three weeks, without you by his side. Diluc is now under protection of the king’s guards and a squadron of the Knights of Favonius as his father accompanies him on the journey to Fontaine, meaning that you get an extended vacation from your royal duties. You visit your home in Springvale during this break, aching to get back to work as the lack of activities slowly begins to drive you mad.

Your birthday occurs within this break period and, much to your surprise, a bouquet of red carnations is delivered to your doorstep as a gift from the prince himself. Diluc had never done such a gesture before and you ignore the way your heart beats a tad bit faster as you read the note settled amidst the beautiful, deep carmine blossoms. You recognize Diluc’s penmanship instantly as you spot the words ‘Happy birthday, (Y/N).’ sprawled across the card.

You smile softly to yourself and tuck the card back into the bouquet before admiring the blossoms. Brushing your fingers over the petals with a featherlight touch, you opt to set the vase on your dining room table rather than admire it for much longer. You’re certain a bouquet such flowers, considered exotic in Mondstadt, costs more than double your paycheck. You do not wish to dwell on such a thought for too long.

When your mother arrives home later that night, she pops her head into your room to say hello, a knowing smirk gracing her features.

“Who sent the flowers?” She asks in an amused tone as you bookmark the page of the book in your hands and close it in order to pay full attention to her. “Are you dating someone that I don’t know about?”

“Yuck, that’s weird,” You let out a soft laugh. “No, they were sent by the prince for my birthday.”

“Prince Diluc or Prince Kaeya?” Your mother asks, a mixture of surprise and concern in her voice.

“Prince Diluc,” You clarify, raising your eyebrows at her tone. “Why?”

“Red carnations have an… interesting meaning,” Your mother, a florist, explains. “...Interesting birthday gift.” You shrug off her implication and open up your book again, not wanting to hear your mother’s crazy theories about meanings of the flower bouquet.

“He probably just picked them because he likes the color red. Don’t sweat it too much,” You say absentmindedly, the pages of your book already drawing you back into reading. Your mother giggles, excusing herself from the conversation as she trots down the hallway.

For your own sanity, you choose not to dwell on her words. You planned to thank Diluc for his kindness

---

The nation is in mourning.

Diluc had returned last night, bloodied and traumatized, from his trip to Fontaine. Alongside of him, only half of the Royal Knight and Knight of Favonius combined unit that accompanied the royal family returned as well. The most notable absence, however, was King Crepus himself. Rumors immediately spread like wildfire, ranging from the idea of Diluc having killed the king to seize the throne all the way to a Fatui attack on the royal family. You’re doubtful that such outlandish notions are true.

The official declaration the following day proves you to be correct; the palace announces that the royal caravan had been attacked by a dragon, resulting in King Crepus’ death, the death of seven Royal Knights, and the death of three Knights of Favonius. Even the typically lively center of Springvale is no louder than a quiet whisper the following day as the nation grieves the loss of its leader and loyal knights.

Your heart hurts for both of the princes, knowing how difficult it is to lose a parent. You can only imagine how much harder it is when their next moves and responses to their father’s death will only become fodder for royal gossip. The throne, which you had sworn to protect, was now vacant, but such an event had been out of your hands. You hadn’t been allowed to accompany the royal family on their journey and, without a vision, you would have likely been killed if you had gone anyways.

However, upon the palace’s announcement of the king’s death, it was also announced that Prince Diluc would not immediately be crowned due to “unforeseen stipulations” King Crepus had left behind in his will. This information, of course, immediately became gossip amongst the townsfolk, ranging from Diluc needing to find a bride before marrying to ideas that Diluc needed to obtain an Anemo vision before being allowed to lead the nation. You were wary about such ideas and figured Diluc had prepared for whatever requirements his father had left for him.

Three days after the death of King Crepus, each Royal Knight, including yourself, receives orders that they no longer work at the palace. Ordo Favonius takes over these claims, allowing any Royal Knight to join their ranks. You want to believe that Diluc wouldn’t just shut you out like this, but you know better. Diluc never wanted any Royal Knights by his side and, after his father’s death due to a lack of adequate knights, certainly wouldn’t want a visionless personal guard. You had almost died fighting an Abyss Mage, for archon’s sake. How would you be able to protect Diluc from a dragon?

The death of his father meant the end of your contract with the prince. You knew this would happen one day. You ignore the feelings of sadness that blossom in your chest at such a thought, contributing them to the (hopefully) temporary end of the Royal Knights as an organization. Your sadness is not over your lack of connection with the elder prince, you tell yourself, but rather grief over the career path you had sworn to follow upon finishing training.

Once Diluc sets his mind to something, it’s almost impossible to sway him from such thoughts. Therefore, ignoring the clenching of your heart, you sign away your future to the Knights of Favonius and agree to participate in a training assessment in order to determine your new title and which sector you would join the ranks of within Ordo Favonius.

Your only regret about the time with the Knights is that you did not have a chance to say goodbye to either prince.

---

A week later, you receive your placement within the Knights of Favonius. Despite your lack of expertise in such an area, you had been appointed to the Cavalry Unit within the Knights of Favonius ranks. You weren’t unfamiliar with a horse; you had scored highly on your cavalry usage exams in training. However, you hadn’t ridden one since your appointment to the Royal Knights.

Upon your arrival to your first day of your new position, you learned you weren’t the only new face within the unit. Five other Royal Knights had been placed within the Cavalry Unit as well. Most shocking of all, however, was the the appointment of a new Cavalry Captain, especially since the knight chosen for the position was none other than Prince Kaeya himself.

The blue-haired prince, now sporting an eyepatch and a cryo vision, looked equally as confused to see you as you were to see him. Rather than sporting his typical jovial attitude, he simply nodded his acknowledgement of your presence. Kaeya was your superior now, after all, meaning he couldn’t showcase favoritism. The prince announced a few changes to the cavalry unit. First, you were to address Kaeya as ‘captain’ and not ‘prince’. Second, the cavalry unit would focus on securing Mondstadt’s perimeter, along with the perimeter of any outer villages as needed. Thirdly, the point Kaeya elaborated the least on, there was to be no talk of the royal family unless essential to the tasks at hand.

As he finishes his speech, you salute and chant your understanding with your new comrades. You can’t help but wonder why Kaeya now wears said eyepatch and why he has a new vision. Despite you having seen him a month ago, the blue-eyed boy now seems lightyears away from you, as if he was sand falling through the cracks of your hands without you even realizing.

---

Two years pass and, due to your work ethic in comparison to other Cavalry Unit members, you ascend in the ranks of your unit. Being one of the top five members of the thirty member unit meant that you and Kaeya spent more time together. You slowly watched as the blue-haired man began to revert to the boy he once was, but he never fully regressed to his childlike state. For starters, Kaeya is far more secretive than he used to be, electing to use little white lies to avoid conflict and any deep, meaningful conversations. There is a profound sadness that mars his powerful stature that wasn’t there before.

In the words he does exchange with you, his brother is never mentioned. The thought of bringing such a topic up to Kaeya makes your tongue heavy, the words remaining unspoken. Instead, Kaeya elects to talk about easily digestible topics in brief phases, such as small talk about the weather, unimportant chatter about military gossip, and hushed conversations about current trends in Mondstadt.

Kaeya has plunged himself into a self-imposed exile within the icy waters of his mind and you lack the proper equipment to save him. You can only watch as he disappears into the salty blue depths of anguish from the safety of the shore, unsure how to lend a helping hand. You are crafted from the sharp blades of swords, untrained in the studies of alchemical healing.

The blue-haired prince’s spirits only rise in the spirits of others, namely the ones sold by Angel’s Share. Every Friday night, as a mandatory “team bonding” activity, Kaeya and the four other highest ranking members of the Cavalry Unit, which unfortunately includes you, collectively go to Angel’s Share and get absolutely wasted, making blubbering fools of themselves. Tonight, just like every other Friday night, you can tell when Kaeya’s on his third drink as he begins to ramble about the history of Angel’s Share. He noisily explains how Angel’s Share is the legendary bar founded by the first King of Mondstadt before he had obtained the throne. During this time period, you slip a few spare mora to the poor waitress having to deal with your rowdy group who will inevitably throw the bill of tonight’s drunken activities on the backs of taxpayers.

You spend your evening nursing a glass of grape juice, wary eyes darting around the room in an analytical habit you had picked up from your job years prior. Old habits die hard after all. You watch as the first two fellow unit members excuse themselves the bar, deciding to stumble out before they could completely disgrace themselves.

It isn’t until Kaeya’s sixth glass of Death After Noon that the rest of the unit calls it quits, wobbling their way back home. One glance at the prince has you signaling to the bartender to cut the prince’s supply off. You stand up and walk over to Kaeya, who suddenly looks elated that you’re here.

“(Y/N)! My favorite!” Kaeya exclaims from his seat, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug and forcing you to rest your hand on the table for balance. “You came for my birthday party!”

“It’s not your birthday, Captain,” You respond. Your heart clenches at his carefree tone, reminded of your teenage years with the boy. The smell of his alcohol-laden breath dispels such naively hopeful notions and you push yourself out of his loosened grip. “Alright, it’s time to go home.”

“Home?” Kaeya asks, his revealed iris glistening with confusion. “Why? It’s not fun there… the party’s here!” The prince is pliable as you hoist him up and swing his arm around your shoulder, clutching onto his waist for support. Archons, the prince was heavy. You take a small step and, despite the alcohol fuzzing his brain, Kaeya seems to understand and stumbles alongside of you.

Once again, you are no more than a glorified babysitter.

You fish the bag of mora Kaeya brought with him out of his back pocket and the prince giggles as you unceremoniously toss the bag out on the table and drag him out of the bar. The two of you walk in silence for a few minutes before Kaeya begins to chant your name over and over. Despite your annoyance, you decide to indulge him.

“What.” Your words lack any form of sincerity, embittered with the situation at hand. Kaeya reaches over and pokes your cheek with a free hand.

“I miss you, y’know?” Kaeya croons, before he smiles with watery eyes. “All the time. You’re always on my mind.”

Oh Barbatos, here we go, you think. You had encountered the prince while intoxicated numerous times before, but never before this had he directed his sappiness in your direction.

“Y’know why?” He teases, slurring his words slightly. You continue to trudge on in silence, shifting him slightly to try to make it easier to carry him along. Kaeya frowns at your silence. “Guess why!” His words are a demand and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Any chivalrous respect you had for Prince Kaeya was now absolutely demolished, due to both his public intoxication and the comforting fact that he wouldn’t remember any of this conversation in the morning.

“Why?” You ask unenthusiastically, knowing he won’t leave you alone until you do so.

“Because I’m in love with you, silly! I’ve been in love with you since we were sixteen,” At his confession, you almost drop him. Your blood runs cold, but you trudge on nonetheless. An oath to protect the royal family persists even if one drunkenly confesses their love to you. Your heart clenches with pain for Kaeya, wishing you could have realized his feelings sooner. Maybe it would have alleviated some of the pain he carries each day and tries to wash away through copious amounts of liquor.

He burps loudly and lets out a bitter laugh. “You’re so… so pretty. And strong! But… he fancied you first! I can’t compete…” The man trails off, seemingly losing track of what he’s saying, stumbling through his words. “I can’t compete with royal blood.”

Your hand slips off his waist and the two of you are sent tumbling into the ground as Kaeya’s arm around your shoulder drags you down with him.

---

Your legs are shaking from exertion as you guide Kaeya through the darkened hallways of the castle, softly shushing him and pulling him closer to you each time he tries to twist away from your grip to cause drunken havoc on the hallway decorations. His free hand trails across the stone walls as he giggles at their texture, having forgotten all about his woeful, self-pitying cries from earlier. As you round the corner to enter the hallway consisting of the chambers of both princes, Kaeya’s quiet amusement with the ornate tapestries that adorn the walls stops.

“We’re home!” Kaeya yells and you immediately shush him, absolutely terrified of waking up a certain redhead.

The corridor reeks of familiarity, nearly suffocating you with nostalgia for simpler, happier times. The decorations have barely changed, aside from a new vase by the door to Kaeya’s room.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you around here, (Y/N)!” Kaeya cheers and you shush him once more, silently pleading with Barbatos to shut the blue-haired prince up. If anyone nearby was unaware of your disgraceful return to the palace grounds, they certainly knew now. His voice drops in volume a bit, still far too loud for this time of night, but better than his raucous hollering as the two of you approach his door. "Would you like to come in, my fair lady? I know many ways to pleasure a woman."

You’ve sacrificed every Friday night for far too long for Prince Kaeya. You love him while he’s sober, but now? You absolutely despise his drunken antics.

"The only pleasure I'll get tonight is finally being able to get rid of your drunken ass," you finally snap, nearly dropping Kaeya once more in mortification at your own words. You couldn't speak to a prince so callously, especially when you were stone-cold sober.

Kaeya pauses before throwing himself into a fit of drunken laughter. "You're so cute but you're so mean, (Y/N)!"

You ignore his antics, realizing the best course of action is to get the rowdy prince in his room where he can scream to his heart’s content. You turn the knob of the door and shove Kaeya into the room, causing him to let out a nervous giggle.

“You’re coming in?” He exclaims and lets out a gasp of surprise. “But wait, I’m shy!” He throws his hand dramatically to his forehead, pretending to faint as the back of his palm lightly brushes it. You let out a loud grunt as the dumb bastard son of a bitch motherfucker drops the entirety of his weight on you. Unable to support him any longer, the prince falls to the ground next to you and laughs. You finally understand why the young bartender at Cat’s Tail hates drunk people so much.

“Captain, get up,” You order, exhaustion creeping into your tone. You prod his stomach lightly with your foot as the drunken prince lets out a groan in response. He closes his eye, ready to fall asleep on the ground, but you manage to muster the last of your strength to pick him up bridal-style. After you rush over to his bed, you unceremoniously drop him on his plush mattress.

Your job is now done. You could strip his clothing down to make him more comfortable while sleeping, but you’re not sure if you can muster the energy to do so. Such an action is beyond the new jurisdiction of your duties as a Knight of Favonius. Plus, you’re fairly sure you’d never be able to look Kaeya in the eye again if you did do such a thing.

“Wait, my loyal knight,” Kaeya drunkenly slurs as you turn to leave his chambers. You bite back a sigh of defeat and turn to look at him with a blank expression. Internally, you’re trying to calm yourself down, utterly frustrated with the situation at hand. “Come here.”

When a prince calls for you, you unfortunately have to listen. You trudge over to Kaeya and place a hand on your hip, looking down at him. The prince shuffles around on his bed as he clumsily sits up, leaning on the headboard for support. You open your mouth to ask him what he needs, but before you can utter the words, Kaeya heaves forward and disperses the contents of his stomach all over your uniform before falling back into his pillows, passed out.

You are speechless as you look down at your clothing, now stained with the deep red-purple hues of the copious amounts of wine Kaeya had ingested earlier in the evening. Biting back the urge to throw up in return, especially as you feel the fabric of your clothes begin to dampen against your skin. You quickly ensure the prince is asleep before quite literally tearing off your soiled pants in disgust.

Despite the oath of fealty that bound you to your job, you briefly considered threatening to quit after tonight unless you got a raise. Now, you were pantless and soon-to-be shirtless due to the sheer incapability of being able to handle somebody else’s body fluids against your skin. Your eyes darted over to Kaeya’s closet and a lightbulb went off in your head.

---

You had taken one of the younger prince’s spare uniforms in his closet and left him a nicely written note explaining the situation. Rather than saying that he threw up on you, you simply wrote that your outfit had been torn while carrying him back to the palace. Some facts, you believed, were best left as secrets. The fabric bunched over your shoulders as you adjusted it to the best of your capabilities, trying to get the odd size to fit your figure properly as you silently cursed Kaeya for having such broad shoulders.

Wrapping your now shredded and sullied uniform into a ball and tucking it under your arm, you made sure Kaeya was asleep once more before stealthily sneaking your way to the door. In a way, you felt like Robin Hood, stealing from the rich to give to the poor, except the poor only consisted of yourself. It is not stealing if you give the uniform back upon request, you tell yourself as you quietly creak open the door. As you make your escape, you turn to face the door as you close it, gently pulling it towards you and holding onto the doorknob to ensure that the noise of the door settling into place would be quiet as possible.

The last thing you wanted was for a drunken Kaeya to wake back up and force you to read him a bedtime story. As the door settles into place, you let out a sigh of relief, only to hear someone clear their throat behind you. Your eyes widen in humiliation and fear and your shoulders cringe upwards as you stare at the door in front of you. Scratch that, this was the last thing you wanted. Rather than let it become any more awkward, you let out a soft breath and settle your expression into your typical stoic one before whirling around to face your fate.

In this instance, your fate is for your eyes to meet the familiar crimson-hued ones that you had not seen in years. Dressed in an ornate, stealthy black and white outfit, the man looks far older than when you had last seen him, as if the last two years had been incredibly hard on him. You had no doubt that they were. You watch as his eyes widen in both recognition and surprise as you fix your posture. A flash of hurt crosses his expression before his expression mimics your own neutral one and the two of you simply stare at each other for a few moments, unsure of what to make of the conversation.

You notice Diluc’s claymore is strapped to his back and he has a fresh bruise forming on his cheekbone. You don’t dare ask what happened to him. It’s no longer your place to worry over him, but you can’t help it as his irises glimmer with sadness upon seeing you. Despite his neutral face, his eyes shine with emotion, as if he’s heartbroken to see you.

“Uh, hello, sir,” You greet, breaking the silence as you try to gather your composure. You offer him a salute, trying your best to keep your arm from shaking in both anxiety and exhaustion.

“Hello..” Diluc echoes absentmindedly, as if his mind is elsewhere. He quickly seems to recollect his bearings as his eyes scan you up and down. “Did you two have a fun night?”

His tone is unreadable and, if coming from anyone else, you would assume his words to be a joke. You let out a nervous laugh and Diluc’s eyebrows raise slightly at the uncharacteristic noise. A gut feeling tells you to choose your next words carefully. Upon your silence, Diluc’s eyes narrow slightly.

“You are wearing his garments. It does not take a genius to figure out what the two of you were doing together,” He explains, his voice devoid of emotion. A wave of heat rises to your cheeks and you are thankful for the low hallway lighting as it helps hide your embarrassment.

“Oh, um…” You trail off, breaking eye contact with the redhead as you look down at your outfit. “It’s not like that. He… he threw up on me.” Your words are unconvincing. Despite you knowing the truth, your nerves make it sound as if you’re pulling lies out of thin air to cover yourself. Diluc, of course, notices such a thing as he echoes your words.

“...He threw up on you?” The elder prince repeats, disbelief coating his words as he narrows his eyes at you.

“Yes, my prince,” You confirm. Diluc seems unsettled by your verbal formalities, but you carry on nonetheless. “He indulged in a few… too many drinks at Angel’s Share. As his subordinate, I felt as if it was in my duties to bring him back to the palace. He then proceeded to… release the contents of his stomach onto my uniform. If you do not believe my words, sir, you can… look at the uniform…” You hold out the balled up uniform in front of you and the stench alone is enough to make Prince Diluc’s nose scrunch up.

“I believe you, (Y/N).” He responds after a moment of contemplation. Diluc goes quiet once more, but you still stand at the ready, not having been dismissed from the conversation. “How… how often does this happen?”

Diluc’s gaze tears away from you. He looks nervous to be asking such a question. You’re not quite sure what he’s implying with his seemingly loaded question. “If I may request for you to do so, could you please clarify your query, my prince?” You ask as his stoic expression returns and he stands up straight, having collected his thoughts.

“How often does Kaeya inconvenience you with his immature drunkenness?” Diluc asks, rubbing his hand over his jaw in exasperation. It’s unclear as to whether he’s exasperated with Kaeya or with you. Diluc’s eyebrows furrow in thought as he awaits your answer.

You think your answer over. Lying to the king-to-be definitely wouldn’t be ideal, but it would help Kaeya. You weren’t sure what was going on with Kaeya, but you knew he was hurting. The blue-haired boy you once knew would have turned his nose up at alcohol. Now, he was damaged enough to have turned to it as a coping mechanism. You are no fool; you see the way Kaeya cringes if there are too many candles lighting up the room each morning.

However, Diluc clearly cared enough about the situation to ask and a part of you was chanting to throw Kaeya under the bus for throwing up on you. You would just be issued another uniform and it was not as if you did not have a spare one in your closet. Plus, Kaeya’s problem was spiraling out of control.

“Once a week,” You answer. “Every Friday. Normally, the prince can make it back by himself, but I am typically relegated to being the sober official of the Knights of Favonius in fear that they’ll trash the place without any supervision.”

Diluc lets out a sigh. He turns around and begins to move back around. “I’ll see to it that such behavior of his is fixed. Dismissed.” The prince waves you off with a dismissive hand and you watch as he enters his chambers, the door closing softly behind him. In return, you walk out of the palace with your head held high, rather pleased with the way the conversation went considering the circumstances Diluc had found you in.

A small part of your heart twists at such an uneventful reunion, as if you had expected something more. You shake your head to try to eliminate such thoughts. You had merely been Prince Diluc’s subordinate, nothing more. Taking the compromising position Diluc had found you in, he had been more than fair to hear your explanation out and to even go so far as to offer to assist you with your troubles. It was your duty to serve the throne and not his duty to serve you, so why did part of you want more?

---

Diluc's definition of fixing Kaeya's behavior is, in fact, not to speak to kaeya about his behavior. Kaeya is none the wiser about his own actions as well, simply issuing a new uniform and a muttered apology about how you had to deal with his behavior. Unfortunately, you aren’t off the hook for the typical Friday night rendezvous at Angel’s Share. You begin to wonder if Diluc had forgotten his words to you as everything seems to be returning to normal. In fact, he probably didn’t care. He just said that to get you off his back, you tell yourself. It was probably too much of a nuisance to readjust Kaeya’s behavior, especially when Kaeya was so far up in the Ordo Favonius’s hierarchy of soldiers.

A visionless soldier like you was dispensable, but a strong prince with a cryo vision was not. Therefore, it only made sense for the Knights and Diluc to prioritize Kaeya’s comfort over your own.

The following Friday rolls around and you finally encounter your first change. As you arrive to early morning training, Kaeya tells you that the Acting Grand Master, Jean, wishes to speak with you. Having given up on Diluc enacting any possible changes to your regiment, you’re baffled as Jean hands you a set of new orders. Confusion is written on her face as well.

“You’re the only one with new orders,” Jean had told you. You weren’t sure if she was supposed to tell you that, but you figured she hoped you would have some explanation. “Especially orders as… odd as these.”

Her words make you actually read the piece of paper in your hands, rather than respectfully waiting until you left to do so.

“Oh,” The word tumbles out of your lips before you can stop it as you gape at the paper like a fish. You have been ordered, directly from the desk of King-to-be Diluc Ragnvindr, to return to the palace to be the elder prince’s royal bodyguard once more. You meet Jean’s expectant gaze with a look of confusion.

“If I may be so brave as to ask, do you know why you have been given such orders? Prince Diluc has been kind of… avoidant when it comes to the Knights as of late.” Jean asks. Her voice is kind like always, but you note a hint of curiosity within it. You can’t help her for being nosy.

“I was his bodyguard once before but..?” You shrug, not really knowing the answer. “He found me last week after Prince Kaeya threw up on me, but I doubt such a thing would have led to such a drastic change.”

Jean’s eyes light up in faint recognition and she softly smiles. “Oh, you were the bodyguard? That makes a bit more sense…” She trails off, lost in thought. “Hm, but such a rearrangement would only happen if he was preparing to… Never mind that, you said Prince Kaeya vomited? On you?”

You feel heat rise up to your cheeks as you nod. “Prince Kaeya is… not quite aware that he performed such… actions while intoxicated, so I would appreciate it if you could keep this a secret between us.”

The Acting Grand Master’s eyes shine with amusement and she lets out a soft, chime-like laugh. “Of course. Your secret is safe with me.”

You begin to walk out of Jean’s office, but freeze in your tracks. “I have one more question, if you don’t mind me asking,” You say. Jean nods for you to continue. “Why did Diluc choose me to be his bodyguard and not somebody with a vision?”

Jean lets out a melodic giggle, her blonde ponytail shaking as she does so. “I have my guesses, but I believe that’s only something the prince himself can answer.”

You nod in response, looking back down at your orders. “Thank you, Acting Grand Master.”

---

“You’re late,” A familiar voice admonishes you as you enter the throne room of the palace. It is a familiar room you had long since given up hope on ever seeing again, with gleaming gold and green accents adorning its stained glass windows. The room holds an intimidating yet freeing aura, but in your eyes, the most threatening thing in the ornate hall is not the gilded throne nor the massive marble statue of Barbatos, but rather Prince Diluc, who stands at the bottom of the steps that lead up to the throne.

Diluc adjusts his black gloves, ones you hadn’t seen him wear before, as he awaits for you to meet him in the center of the room. The click of your uniform’s boots against the tile and the soft clinking of your sheathed sword against your belt fills the room, reverberating through the open space as the sounds fill the silent void between you and Diluc.

“My apologies, my prince,” You state, bowing in respect. Diluc stares at you with an unreadable expression.

“You always were the type for formalities,” He muses almost wistfully, but catches himself and clears his throat. “Nonetheless, such impropriety will not be viewed upon well in the future.”

You stand up straight and salute him. “Understood, sir.”

Amusement dances in Diluc’s carmine irises as your gesture. “Welcome back, (Y/N).” He says, holding out a hand for you to shake. You shake his hand firmly, appreciative to see his amiability had not disappeared in your absence. As you drop his hand, Diluc seems to sense the unspoken question that rests on your tongue.

“There are no other Royal Knights yet. I do not trust any other knights to be capable of doing their jobs,” Diluc explains briefly before moving past you and out of the throne room, beckoning for you to follow. You fall in line alongside him, listening as he details your duties. For a moment, you’re seventeen and naive again, wondering what happened to the previous impression you had of the prince.

---

Two months pass and, in many ways, it's as if you had never left. Yet, the man you are designated to guard is more reserved with those around him, but the bluntness with his emotions remains. If Diluc isn’t happy with a situation, he’s not one to hide it, except for the sake of diplomacy. Despite not sharing blood with his brother, the two of them hold the same sadness in their shoulders when no one is watching, burdened by the secrets of the world. You stare at Diluc far more often than you do his younger brother, justifying such actions with your duties in an attempt to ignore the fact that you find the elder prince easy on the eyes.

Diluc looks at you too. When your duty is to observe, you tend to pick up on things quickly, especially the long glances Diluc sends your way when your attention is elsewhere. Your thoughts often consist of the secrets Kaeya had divulged to you in his drunken state, but you shove such nonsense out of your head. Kaeya had no place to speak on Diluc’s behalf and you determined that he was likely only projecting his own insecurities on Diluc. A selfish part of you still yearned for Kaeya’s words to be true each time you would notice the elder prince’s gaze to be upon you, but your duty prevailed over all. Unable to pinpoint why you felt this way, you would simply stare straight ahead, acting oblivious to Diluc’s gaze.

The distance between the two of you closes, both physically and emotionally. Diluc stays close enough to you that your elbows brush against each other while walking and you contribute such actions to Diluc being nervous after his father’s death. He’s much more touchy, reaching out to you with subtle gestures to make sure you’re near, rather than verbally reassuring your distance. If the two of you are outside the palace grounds and the prince is distracted by something, he’ll reach out to ensure that you’re still close.

If you aren’t nearby, Diluc will snap out of whatever daze he’s in and look around frantically for you, as if you had disappeared into thin air. The sheer panic in his eyes has taught you to stay close to him.

Diluc values your opinion. Previously, when he would have suffered in silence, the two of you have small conversations about issues he may be facing in his life, such as how to deal with a petulant Fontaine diplomat who doesn’t know how to take the word “no” as an answer. Diluc enjoys the new perspective you bring to the table, but he doesn’t let you in much farther. For his heaviest burdens, Diluc elects to keep to himself.

For that reason, you do not ask about his brother. You only provide your condolences on the day of his father’s death and make yourself available if he needs you.

---

Six months into your new appointment under Diluc, you finally gather the courage to ask a question you have desired to ask since your first day. You bite your lip slightly as you drop your gaze from guarding the door and instead flicker your gaze over to Diluc, who is sitting in a red velvet armchair by the crackling fireplace. The two of you are within the spacious area of his father’s study, soon to be his own, but such a room is still rather unfamiliar to you. The unknown territory of the room pushes you to move the unknown territory of the question you desire to ask.

“Um, sir?” You ask, uncharacteristically nervous. Diluc’s eyes immediately break away from the pages of his book, startled by you speaking. Normally, Diluc was the one to initiate conversation.

“Yes, (Y/N)?” He asks patiently and you feel heat rise to your face once more. Why are you flustered? you ask yourself as Diluc gazes at you intensely, awaiting your words with earnest.

“Apologies if I’m… overstepping by asking,” You begin and a flash of worry briefly crosses the prince’s face before he raises his eyebrows in intrigue. “But… why have you not ascended to the throne yet?”

The prince flushes a deep scarlet. He fumbles slightly with the book in his hands and looks down at it nervously. Such bashfulness is uncharacteristic of him, but then again, being so forthright was abnormal for you. Had you overstepped boundaries? Nervousness begins to claw at your stomach and climb up your throat, but the feelings are quickly quelled as Diluc clears his throat and smiles softly down at his book, trying to gather his bearings before responding.

The prince looks at you, but fails to make eye contact. “My father was a bit… peculiar in the guidelines I must follow in order to become king.” His fingers tap lightly on the cover of his book as he lets out a soft sigh, clearly unnerved by your question, but not wanting to make much of it. The prince is now twenty-three. Surely you could not have been the first person to ask him such a question?

“Oh,” You respond quickly. “I apologize if I overstepped any boundaries. Thank you for your answer, my prince.” A stoic expression quickly plasters itself on your face as you retreat back into yourself and Diluc’s eyebrows furrow at your reaction.

“It was not a bothersome question, just one I… had not been expecting, that’s all,” Diluc says, reading directly into the way you had closed yourself off. He notices the way your posture relaxes at such a statement and his eyes soften. “A few others are aware of the stipulations, so there is no such way I can circumvent them.”

“Ah,” You murmur before speaking once more. “Are the conditions to become king difficult?”

Diluc finally meets your eyes, a wistful look on his face. “They aren’t. I am just… not quite sure if the timing is right or how to broach the subject of them.” His voice is barely above a low rumble, but you hear him perfectly.

Your heart clenches at his words. You don’t know why.

---

Diluc’s twenty-fourth birthday rolls around and, when compared to every prior birthday of his in the past, the palace is ablaze with life. Mond’s economy had taken a slight downturn in its luxury goods market and Diluc had agreed to help bolster the industry by hosting a diplomatic birthday of sorts. Invite the richest people within Teyvat to explore Mondstadt and all its palace has to offer, conveniently place luxury goods within the vicinity, and the markets for said items are guaranteed to increase in demand. Diluc had explained all of this to you, including going in depth on the economics, and ordered you to put together a temporary unit of knights to serve as security at the party.

Such merriment and festivities would not lead to joy for you, but rather more work hours and stress. Assembling a team of competent enough fighters was difficult enough. Many within the Knights of Favonius were kind, but easily influenced, meaning that they were untrustworthy to leave within the realms of foreign dignitaries and prying eyes. Ultimately, you had settled on a trustworthy team of twenty core knights, all assigned to different positions within the ballroom. Some were framed as servers, some were framed as partygoers, and others would simply be required to wear their knight uniforms and guard the entrances and exits.

Despite security being a massive event, the biggest outlier was not the people who would be attending the party, but outsiders wishing to take advantage of such important people congregated in a single event. For that reason, all other knights were stationed within other parts of the palace and around its perimeter, in order to secure the area for the party. You weren’t too worried about the people inside as any foul moves would lead to massive geopolitical repercussions against any evildoers.

As for you, you were assigned to be Diluc’s right-hand knight, guarding his side at the party. While you were always ready to perform your assigned duty, you couldn’t help but wish you had door duty, as such a position would not require the diplomatic ass-kissing you were obligated to perform.

Now, as you stood at Diluc’s side near the center of the room, you weren’t sure what to make of the situation. The prince was effortlessly calming and smooth in his conversations with potentially hostile foreign dignitaries. Hell, he was even being respectful to the Fatui, even though you knew he likely wanted to ram his head through a wall speaking to the sleazy minions of the Tsaritsa.

What you hadn’t expected, however, were the wine trays floating throughout the room. You and Diluc were both aware to only take appetizers and drinks alike from a specific server, not wanting the elder prince or you, the head of security for the event, to have contaminated food. However, as Diluc drank his third glass of wine, you were beginning to wonder if you would be able to keep up. Finishing off your second, you smiled politely at the server and politely declined a second glass, ignoring the look of confusion Diluc sent your way. You already felt tipsy. The last thing you wanted was to be unable to do your job.

“Ah, Prince Diluc!” A vaguely familiar voice calls from behind you and Diluc the moment Diluc finishes speaking with a diplomat from Natlan. How do I know that voice? You ask yourself before feeling your thoughts swim a bit due to the alcohol. You silently cursed yourself for accepting the drinks at all, but when the first round of drinks had appeared, Diluc himself had taken one for you. How could you have said no to a request from your prince?

You and Diluc both turn around to see the intruder and you recognize him immediately. Dottore, one of the eleven Fatui Harbingers, stood before you and Diluc, a wide grin on his face. Immediately suppressing a groan and forcing your expression to stay neutral, you silently curse the fact that Harbingers made it on the guest list, especially one as irritating as Dottore. At his best, the man was an arrogant asshat. At his worst, Dottore was downright psychopathic with little regard for the people around him. You knew Diluc was aware of such things, but the prince had to stomach such disdain for the harbinger and at least attempt for a polite conversation.

“This is quite a lovely party,” Dottore compliments, but such praise from him is only worth about as far as you can throw it. “Mond is quite a prosperous nation.”

Your gaze flickers between Dottore and Diluc as they exchange meaningless pleasantries. You lose track of their conversation, electing to scan the room (and watch Dottore) for any potential threats or foul moves. However, you’re quickly snapped back to the conversation as Dottore’s attention turns to you, his masked red eyes boring into yours.

“You are the prince’s security detail?” Dottore’s words are less of a question and more of a statement, as if he already knows the answer. You avoid glancing at Diluc and instead meet Dottore’s gaze straight on and hold out your hand.

“Knight (Y/N), sir.” You respond and Dottore laughs crookedly while shaking your hand with a grip far too aggressive for your liking.

“Ah, aren’t you an… interesting specimen,” Much to your behest, Dottore takes your hand in his own gloved one and looks at it, as if he’s inspecting you. “You are his only personal knight at this event yet you are visionless… Quite an intriguing move for a prince who flaunts his so proudly.”

Your eyes instinctively move to look at Diluc, whose brows are furrowed and eyes glistening with anger at the situation unfolding. Diluc clears his throat and immediately returns his expression to one of neutrality as he realizes your gaze is now upon him. “Dottore, are you not one to believe that humanity is more than their visions?”

Dottore drops your hand unceremoniously and you quickly retract it to your side in fear that such an event happens again. He chuckles at Diluc’s words and turns to look at the prince once more. “Of course. I just simply never took you as the type to share my beliefs.”

Despite neither of them owning an Electro vision, the air between the two men crackles with energy. Dottore grins as Diluc glowers, eager to see if the refined prince’s composure shatters. The Harbinger knows he’s pinpointed Diluc’s weak spot, so rather than continuing the rather unamusing staring contest, Dottore’s gaze returns to you once more. He casts you a saccharine smile, dripping with insecurity, as he leans in close to you.

“I must believe you have some tricks up your sleeve. I look forward to seeing what they are,” The Harbinger’s tone drops to a low, sultry one as Dottore’s hot breath fans over your face, reeking of the odd combination of mint and wine. His words are not an expectation, but rather a promise. After a second more of leering at you, Dottore is sensible enough to realize Diluc’s limited patience is waning, so he takes a step back and stands up straight. “Nonetheless, I must make my exit now. Prince Diluc, as nice as it was to speak with you, I understand your wish not to share your toys.”

Just as quickly as he had appeared, the Harbinger disappears into the crowd. You look over at the prince standing near you. He takes a sidestep closer to you and for a split second, you’re reminded of the Prince Diluc you once knew, the one who could barely contain his anger and derision and took such feelings out on his subordinates verbally. The contempt Diluc feels for the situation that just unfolded is written all over his face, but he quickly gathers his composure. Knowing him well enough, you can sense the irritation radiating off him in waves, but you dare not comment on it.

Before another diplomat can intervene, Diluc leans in close to you, voice no more than a low whisper. “Dottore is up to something.”

---

Diluc, in his typical stubborn nature, refuses to let the Dottore situation go. Two hours afterwards, long after his mood had returned to normal, Diluc is excusing himself to use the bathroom, signaling for you to follow him. However, the elder prince remains silent as the two of you walk past the bathroom and into the chambers that had been converted to house foreign dignitaries who would stay the night and leave in the morning. The prince glances up and down the hallway frantically, making sure nobody is following. His pace is hurried, as if he’s looking for something.

You’re smart enough to realize Diluc’s only silent when he desires for others to be as well, but the two of you have been walking long enough that you part your lips to speak. Before you can utter the words, Diluc is opening the door closest to the two of you.

“Here,” He mutters and before you can follow, the prince grabs your arm and pulls you in after him, immediately letting you go afterwards. You were utterly baffled as to what room the two of you were even in, considering you had barely been in this part of the palace before. “Dottore’s room.” Diluc explains.

That’s a shitty explanation, you think. With the alcohol in your system, you are spurred to question his decisions, something you never would dare to do sober.

“With all due respect, sir, why are we raiding Dottore’s room?” You state as Diluc crouches down to look underneath Dottore’s bed. You silently question why that’s the first place the prince bothers looking, rather than looking in a more normal place, such as Dottore’s desk drawers or the suitcases lined against the wall.

Diluc lets out a huff of air at your words, but doesn’t admonish you for them. “He’s up to something,” Diluc mutters absentmindedly.

“I know he’s a suspicious character and he’s Fatui, but all he did was disrespect you with his words. Does that really mean he’s up to something?” You ask and Diluc pauses through rifling through the limited possessions the Harbinger had brought to Mondstadt. Still crouched down, the prince turns to look at you with an expression of confusion at your words.

“You aren’t normally like this,” Diluc states plainly and you feel your face heat up in embarrassment. He squints his eyes in an attempt to read your stoic expression in the dark. He lets out a sigh, unable to come to a conclusion, and returns back to looking through Dottore’s stuff. “He was clearly challenging me. He’s hiding something and wants me to find it.”

With Diluc’s back turned to you, you roll your eyes. Why are men always like this?

“Maybe he was just flirting,” You suggest, your tone annoyed.

“I was n-” Diluc pauses and clears his throat. “I mean, he was not flirting with you.” He sounds outraged that you would even discuss such a thing.

“Sir, his words had that weird kind of aura to them. With all due respect, I believe I’m not ugly enough that he wouldn’t flirt with me. He just sounded kind of horny,” You say, as if such a thing should be obvious. Diluc freezes completely and stands up, turning to look at you. His eyes are blown wide at your words and, in your alcoholic stupor, you’re unaware of the egregious unprofessionalism of your words. The prince steps closer to you, his crimson gaze boring into yours.

“Archons,” He mutters after a few seconds. “They didn’t serve you grape juice, did they?”

“Nope,” You respond in a gleeful voice, popping your mouth at the end of the word. “Were they supposed to?” You ask cluelessly, leaning on the wall behind you.

Diluc lets out a frustrated huff, but it doesn’t seem directed at you. “Barbatos, they had one job,” He mutters to himself before walking over to Dottore’s desk and bending over to look at the contents of the desk drawers. “Anyways, just watch the door. That’s an order.”

Even in your tipsiness, you are aware enough to sense Diluc’s frustration at the situation, so you bite your tongue and watch the door. Your gaze flutters between the elder prince and the door, unable to focus on your assigned duty as the alcohol swirls through your system. The elder prince’s noisy actions of rifling through files draws your attention and you look over at him, eyebrows raised. However, what catches your attention is a glint of white in his back pocket.

“What’s in your pocket?” You ask, causing Diluc to let out a frustrated huff.

“I said to watch the door,” Diluc reminds you in a harsh tone, but by now, you know the prince is all bark and no bite.

“I have two eyes,” You respond combatively. Diluc sighs, knowing this is a fight he won’t win. “One to watch you and one to watch the door.”

“That is quite literally not how vision works, (Y/N),” Diluc tries to explain, but knows there’s no reasoning with alcohol. He’s encountered his brother enough times after his drunken escapades to know when to give up. “Just… use both to watch the door.”

“Tell me what’s in your pocket and I will,” Your words are dangerous and if Diluc wasn’t fond of you, he could easily have thrown you in prison for saying such things.

“We’re done in here,” Diluc states after a few moments of ignoring you, placing the final file back into its rightful position and dusting himself off. He walks over to you and pulls the white object out of his pocket, holding it out to you. “It’s a mask, by the way.”

“Okay,” You say, taking the mask in your hand. You’re not far enough gone to try putting it on, so you simply slip it into your own pocket. “What’s in the other pocket, then, sir?” You ask, a sly smirk appearing on your face. Diluc flusters at your mischievous expression as he brushes past you to exit the room.

“Nothing.” He responds, but you know otherwise. As the two of you exit into the hallway, you take advantage of the fact that the prince had exited Dottore’s room before you and you quickly snatch the object in his other pocket. You had only seen the outline of it, but now that it rests in your hands, you’re utterly baffled as to why he would hide such a thing.

“What is this?” You ask, holding the object away from Diluc as he whirls around, trying to grab the object from your hand.

“Stop acting like a child, (Y/N),” Diluc warns, but there’s a faint desperation in his voice. “It’s my Vision.”

“This isn’t your Vision,” You state, staring at him with furrowed brows. “Your Vision looks different from this.”

Before you can theorize any more about what the faux-Vision in your hands is, Diluc opens the door closest to the two of you and pulls you in rather roughly by the arm. You only tighten your grip on the object in response.

“Could you be any louder, (Y/N)? Barbatos, it’s just a Vision, but it’s not mine. Give it back.” Diluc orders, but you simply smirk at him as the two of you stand in the dark of the supply closet he had cornered you in. The light filtering from underneath the door allows him to barely see your expression, despite the overall darkness of the room. His hand fumbles against the wall before the room is lit in a soft orange light as his hand finds an unlit candle near the door.

“Hm,” You say upon seeing his glowering expression. He looks absolutely furious, but for once you aren’t living in fear of such an expression. In fact, he looks rather delicio- “Make me, Diluc.” The words tumble out of your lips, sultry and sweet, before you can even finish processing your own thoughts. Right now, for once in your life, you have the chance to make Prince Diluc beg and you are relishing in the moment, in all of its unprofessional glory.

Diluc’s eyes flash with anger and as he angrily grips your wrist and shoves you back into the shelf behind you. The wood juts into your back and you let out a soft cry of both surprise and pain as objects begin to clatter off the shelf around the two of you. Taking advantage of your surprise at his forcefulness, Diluc manages to wrangle the object out of your hand and he fastens it securely in within his breast pocket, away from your prying, tipsy hands. As Diluc’s harsh grip on your wrist fails to falter, you feel tears bubble up in your eyes, unable to hold them back. Okay, maybe you had more than two drinks, you tell yourself.

Before you can stop them, more words are spilling out of your mouth, but they’re no longer the empowered ones you wish you could say.

“I do everything for you,” you blubber pathetically and watch as Diluc’s eyes widen at your tone. “And the one time i want something in return, just to know something about you, you’re mean to me.” Before you can stop them, you’ve activated the waterworks, tears freefalling down your cheeks. The only word to describe Diluc’s expression is terrified.

“N... no, don’t cry.” Diluc’s grip on your wrist loosens, but he still holds it close, his other free arm pulling you in by your waist into a comforting hug. His gestures and words are stiff as if he’s not sure how to do this. You’re fairly sure the two of you are breaking each and every code of conduct at this moment, but for now, you don’t care. His hand rubs the small of your back in a comforting motion, his thumb trailing up and down the part of your wrist that he likely bruised. “You’re my best knight, the only one I can trust, it’s… okay. Please don’t cry.”

The prince’s words are frantic and softly spoken, as if he’s trying his best to pull compliments out of thin air to stop your tears. Despite him not being very good at comforting you, your sobs start to subside into small hiccups as you bury your head into the spot between his shoulder and neck. You feel him stiffen at the gesture. Nonetheless, he pulls you into a tighter one armed hug.

After you manage to get your tipsy tears under control, you let out a shaky sigh before continuing with your words. “Why do you never let me in? I swore my life to protect you. I’d do anything for you. but you just shut me out every time,” You whisper, voice still stained with the tears you had just cried out. In the morning, you’d be mortified with your words, but for now, you brain is encouraging you to continue. Diluc pulls away from you and cups his hands on the side of your face, using his thumbs to wipe away your tear stains.

“You’re too valuable to waste your tears on someone like me.” Diluc mutters as the pads of his fingers soak up the salty tears. His tone is saddened from your actions.

“Answer the question, Diluc, please,” you beg, dropping the honorifics once more. You stare into his eyes, searching for an answer. You watch him inhale, as if he’s trying to muster up the courage to say something.

“Okay,” He breathes, eyes looking into yours for reassurance. “Okay.” His voice is more resolute as he repeats the words. “I don’t know how to keep you close without making you uncomfortable. I don’t know how much I should let you in without scaring you off. I feel this way because for the last six years, I’ve been in-”

Before he can finish his words, the door to the supply closet swings open. The bright light causes the both of you to flinch as a third voice gasps dramatically. You blink rapidly, trying to adjust your eyes to the bright lights from the hallway in order to understand what’s happening, your hand reaching up to the hilt of your sword.

“My, my, what a scandalous sight,” the voice (Dottore, you identify) croons and the two of you look on in mortification. “A prince and his knight having an illicit rendezvous in the janitorial closet.”

The two of you look out to see a small crowd of five people having gathered -- Dottore, his assistant, Kaeya, Jean, and another Fatui agent. You’re not sure why they’re all gathered outside, but what matters is that they’re now viewing you after having been caught in a broom closet with the king-to-be’s hands cupping your face and him staring into your eyes.

Fuck, you think as Diluc’s hands rescind from your face quickly, as if the water of your tears had scalded him.

#diluc x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #diluc headcanons #diluc scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #diluc #genshin impact #*writing #*inheritance #*diluc #*fic #AAAAAAAAAAAAA ITS HERE

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yoongsisbae · 3 years

Text

Handshakes of a Lifetime - Chapter 5

You snag exclusive fan meet tickets, but as you shake hands with your favorite idols, something strange happens…

BTS soulmate AU. OT7 x Reader / Yoongi x Reader focused in this chapter, slight Jungkook x Reader

Here we gooooo. I have a special place in my heart for Yoongs, I think this might be my favorite handshake yet. Enjoy the craziness!

Warnings: death, blood, guns, stabbing, fighting, bondage, drunk sex, rough sex Yoongi and y/n are just two kinky idiots in love, ANGST so much angst why, let me know if I need to add more I know it’s dark.

Word Count: 10.6k

“So you think if I touched her, it would happen to me too? Is that why-” Taehyung turns to a defeated Jin.

“I don’t know.” He can’t stop thinking about you, his body hurts, his chest hurts.

“I want to try, this is so unfair.” Taehyung whines.

Namjoon sighs, “Well…”

You hear a knocking at the door. Your legs felt numb. How long have you been sitting here? You were too lost in your thoughts, reliving moments that weren’t yours.

“Hello? Unlock the door.”

You know that voice. No way.

You’ve listened to his solo songs on repeat so many times, his deep voice and sharp tongue playing in your ears for hours at times.

For lack of better judgment, you decide to stay silent. You slowly unlock the stall door trying not to make a sound as you tiptoe to the door. You rest your ear against the wood hoping to hear something. You consider maybe it was just another delusion. There is just no way.

“We know you’re in there.” You flinch from the door, the idol’s voice is as clear as day.

“I don’t know what happened, but I didn’t mean to do what you think I did..I-I don’t even know what I-I just want to go home. Please...” You put your palm on the door, a superficial gesture you know won’t make a difference, much like a nod to a person over the phone, and rest your head on the door waiting for his response. There is a long silence.

The weary idol stands in front of the bathroom door. He should have let Namjoon handle it, he thinks, why did he volunteer? When security came to tell them you had locked yourself in the bathroom, it brought up old memories he didn’t like thinking about, it made him want to help you. So before anyone else could, he volunteered to get you. But now he felt inadequately prepared, he should have just let Namjoon handle it.

He gestures to the security to give him some space. He rests his head on the door and sighs, instead of reaching for the door handle he rests his hand above it.

“Can I please come in? Open the door, it will just be me, I promise.” The idol switches to Korean, hoping you understand him. “I just want to talk to you. And then you can leave.” Actually, he doesn’t know if it will be that easy, but at this point he would tell you anything to get you to open the door.

He hears the slow scrape of metal as the lock turns. He gives security one last look to stay back before opening the door. You shuffle back quickly as the door opens and in walks Min Yoongi of BTS.

Yoongi shuts the door and locks it again. You try to give him space, but he advances towards you. So you keep giving him space and he puts his hand up in surrender, like someone would when approaching a scared animal.

“Hello.” He greets you in English. This was a bad idea.

“H-Hello.” You both face each other awkwardly.

This was the last thing you’d ever expect to happen, standing alone in a bathroom with BTS’s Suga. You feel like you’re burning up, you wonder how you haven’t managed to pass out as the rapper watches you in silence.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I freaked out. I’ll just go home, I promise I won’t ever talk about what happened. I-I mean, I don’t know what happened, nothing-“

“It will be okay. Breath.” He speaks in English to you again. “Take a deep breath. Count to ten.”

You’re shaking again. He’s being so nice to you, it makes you want to cry even more.

“C’mon, count.”

You start counting in shaky Korean, glancing over at the rapper who tries to hide a smile at the way you recite the words like a school child taking a test, you finish and feel like laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation, your own lips curving upward as you begin to relax.

“Do you understand me when I speak Korean?” Yoongi says in Korean. You nod.

“Do you understand me when I speak in English?” The rapper nods back. “Most of it, yes,” he confesses.

You stand there awkwardly too scared to speak, gripping the sink counter to steady yourself, your reflections stare back at you in the bathroom mirror. The rapper looks perfect in his button down and styled hair, you on the other hand-

You laugh, “Oh god, I look horrible.” You turn on the sink and splash cold water on your face to get rid of your dried tears.

“No you don’t.” The rapper leans on the counter looking at you, grabbing a paper towel to hand to you. He is making it very hard for you to pretend he’s not there.

You watch him through the mirror’s reflection, “Thank you.” The words barely come out of your mouth. You turn around and lean on the counter beside him, making sure to keep your distance. ‘This is the weirdest night of my life,’ you can’t help but let out a small laugh.

The two of you stand there next to each other in silence for a painfully long time.

Finally, Yoongi lifts his hand palm side up and gives you a sideways glance. “I owe you, don’t I?”

You stare at his hand, study the silver rings around his fingers.

“...A handshake.”

“What?” You can only gawk at him.

“You paid all this money for handshakes from all members...”

That was not what you expected. “It’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

You grip the counter tighter, “I don’t want to, really, it’s okay.”

“I insist.” You can hear the frustration in his voice.

“No...It’s okay. I won't hold it against you.”

Yoongi frowns, slowly lowering his hand, feeling stupid. How is he supposed to get you to touch him?

He chews on his bottom lip and sneaks a glance at you again. Against all his instincts, when he realized he had another chance to see you, he took it with no question. You scared him and yet he felt himself gravitating to you. Everything that transpired had given him so many questions, and you were the only answer. “Please, I want to know-I want to know if it’s true.” Yoongi pauses, “I just want to understand why I feel the way I do being around you.”

You realize just how close the rapper stands next to you, your shoulders almost touching, had he moved closer and you didn’t even realize it? Did you?

You glance over at him, he looks so vulnerable and lost, nothing like the intimidating idol who stood in front of you at the fanmeet. He seemed so untouchable, now he’s asking you to do just that. You want to give in, you think it’s the least you can do for him, and then he’ll realize his mistake and let you go home.

You brace yourself and push away from the counter behind you, turning to face the rapper.

“Okay, but you’ll probably regret it,” you whisper, extending your hand.

Yoongi goes to grab your hand but you move yours just out of reach before he has a chance to, “Don’t say I didn't warn you...” Yoongi nods to you. He grabs your hand.

“Can you let go of me already.” You whisper as Yoongi holds you in a death grip.

“Yeah, let’s just blow our entire cover.” Yoongi hisses. This was not how the mission was supposed to go. Yoongi doesn’t do field missions, his talents are long range. Away from people, especially you.

“And can you stop looking at me like that, you’re supposed to be acting like my wife,” he warns lowly in your ear, you think he’s going to dislocate a finger the way he’s squeezing your hand. Yeah right, like you would ever marry a man like Min Yoongi.

You’re annoyed. Annoyed at the man next to you, annoyed they required you to have a male partner at all, like you needed a babysitter to do your job. On top of it all, it had to be him.

The gala you walk into is being held for top diplomats and politicians from all over the world. You let Yoongi pull you through the crowds as you scan the room for your target, a corrupt delegate who has a swath of information that could be useful to the state. You pull on Yoongi’s arm to get his attention, “Your left, 9 o’clock.”

He pulls you closer before you can advance on the target, grabbing your chin to face him instead, to anyone else it would look like a romantic gesture, for you it’s just another tactic Yoongi uses to keep you leashed to him. “We should make sure there aren’t any threats first.”

You’ve never been a woman to accept the cages men tried to confine you to, you have claws and you know how to use them. You lean into Yoongi, you can feel his body stiffen as you press your chest against his. You place a kiss on his cheek, bringing his arms around you until he gives in and grips your body instead, “That’s your job isn’t it, let me do mine,” you give him your best smile, but your eyes show him your true emotions as you glare at him with hatred. And with that, you were able to slip away from Yoongi’s grasp.

You drop your suitcase onto the only bed in your small hotel room. You know you needed the sharp shooter to complete the mission, but why did you have to share a room with him too? And why do they keep assigning Yoongi to you? You’re a top agent, you could easily complete this mission with an amateur, anyone but the smug sniper who is making his way toward you now.

“We need to be on site at 23:00, so go do something while I sleep.” The agent starts unbuttoning his cuff, paying you little attention.

“So I’m not supposed to get any rest?” You cross your arms and frown at the jaded man in front of you, “What the hell am I supposed to do while you’re getting your beauty sleep?”

“Not my problem.” Yoongi is sleep deprived and more irritable than usual. “You slept on the plane ride here, I know because your snoring kept me up the entire flight.”

You feel your face go hot with anger and embarrassment. “Well, I’m not leaving. This is my room too!”

“Do what you want! I don’t care.” the sniper yells. He needs to sleep so he can keep you safe, he thinks, ‘ungrateful brat.’

He moves past you shoving his shoulder into yours. In your anger, you shove him back. He turns around glaring at you, then decides to shove you again, this time with his hands. Yoongi is stubborn, but you’re more stubborn, you push him again, and now you’re in a shoving match with your own partner.

“Will you stop!” he yells, pushing you so hard your back hits the hotel wall.

“You first!” The next time you push your hand into his shoulder Yoongi grabs your wrist and pulls you hand forward, slamming his chest into you and crushing you between his body and the wall.

He glares down at you, his eyes flicker down to your lips.

Why did he do that? ‘Ugh idiot,’ and now you're thinking about his lips, the thoughts make you glance down. ‘Fuck, why did I do that?’ He catches the movement of your eyes.

You stand trapped against his strong frame, you think about elbowing him away, sweeping his feet and knocking him out for daring to test you like this, but you needed him at the top of his game for tonight. You squirm in his grasp while he stares down at you with an unreadable expression.

Eventually, when you feel like the pounding of your pulse might give you a heart attack Yoongi removes himself from you and goes to the bathroom, slamming the door shut. You hear the shower start. ‘Why does it have to be him,’ you wonder, rubbing your temples with your fingers. You decide to go grab some food. There’s a pit in your stomach, it must be hunger you think.

---

You walk the perimeter of the house, leaving the man you coaxed into bringing you into his home asleep in his bed. The sleep sedatives you laced in his drink made sure he wouldn’t bother you while you search his mansion. You had to work quickly and quietly.

“Two guards, headed your way.” Yoongi’s voice comes through in your earpiece, letting you slip into an empty room undetected.

“Clear?”

“Clear.” Yoongi’s deep voice crackles in your ear.

You make your way down the third floor hallway until you reach a large door.

Yoongi watches you through heat sensor binoculars. “There are five guards behind that door, do not engage.”

“I guess I’m getting warmer then.” You remove the knife around your thigh. “Do you have a clear shot on any of them?”

The sniper sees three windows, two blocked almost entirely by a curtain, the last only slightly covered, the situation was not ideal. “Negative. You’ll have to push them to the far open window so I can get a better shot.”

You look at the large windows of the hall you stand in. “Do you have a clear shot on me?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

You smirk, “You ruin your perfect record? Doubt it.”

You knock on the door, ignoring Yoongi hissing in your ear, “So much for the element of surprise.”

“This is not the bathroom!” You stab the first guard in the neck. As he falls, clutching his throat and spluttering for air, you hug your body to the wall. When the next guard runs out you kick the pistol out of his hand. He fights against your advances, he’s strong and trained, but even then one can only take so many stabs to the body. The rest of the men advance on you, two drop, you see the bullet holes in their skulls.

“Thanks-” the last man lunges at you, putting you in a chokehold. He’s tall, he lifts you up and you lose your footing. You swing your knife, blade piercing his arms, but his hold on you stays. You kick in his grasp, your legs make contact with the wall and you both go down.

“I don’t have eyes on you. Get him in my sight!” You’d like to yell at Yoongi that that’s exactly what you were trying to do, but the guard’s hold on your windpipe makes it impossible. You aim your knife for his sides until his grip on you lessens. You roll off of him and start crawling, hoping he falls into your trap. He grabs your leg, you use the momentum to twist your body and kick him in the chest, before he falls on his back, he’s already dead. You can always count on Yoongi to never miss a headshot.

“Like I was saying, thanks.” Your voice is hoarse. Yoongi scoffs in your ear.

As you work to open the safe you’ve located, you hear Yoongi’s voice again, “Get out of there now! Twelve guards headed your way!”

“Just twelve?” You grab the dead mans’ guns and barricade yourself in the room. You pull every curtain you see down and fall to the floor just in time as gunfire fills the room.

Yoongi watches you take the men down one by one. You move in a chaotic dance around the room, there’s a preciseness to your movements, and also a wildness in your actions. You’re like a feral tiger, eating your targets alive. Yoongi’s impressed. The sniper lines up shot after shot, giving you as much cover as he can offer. He tries to keep your bloodshed to a minimum, you set up the pins, he knocks them down.

He is more than happy to deal the final blow. As he adds another tick to his total body count, he hopes you’ll be okay. Physically, he knows you’ll be fine, but mentally, he worries about you. Memories with you after similar missions still haunt him, the quiet anguish that fills you after every big bloodbath. It’s become a ritual to spend nights together after a mission, neither of you able to sleep soundly, you’d often wonder out loud to Yoongi if the dead men had wives or children, ask if it bothered him, ‘destroying families.’ It didn’t, if he’s being honest, they were horrible men and their families were probably better off without them in his eyes, but he knew it bothered you.

So, he doesn’t mind killing for you, it’s not because he cares about you, no, it’s just easier to get through missions that way. He would rather have everyone think you’re a tiger, Yoongi knows the truth.

Yoongi pulls you back, concealing your bodies from the advancing enemies. You look at him questionly. He places a finger to his mouth to keep you quiet. He signs with his hands, ‘two,’ ‘ahead,’ ‘you wait,’ ‘I’ll go around.’ You nod in agreement. You wait, straining your ears to hear signs of struggle. You hear footsteps running towards your direction. You grab the enemy and knock him out before he can make a sound. Yoongi is pulling you away, handing you a black bag you assume is full of data your agency so desperately wanted. You make a quiet getaway, grateful you can hide in the shadows and follow Yoongi to your escape: a boat that can get you to international waters. You stretch and watch the night sky as Yoongi starts the engine. “I didn’t die.” you hum.

“You say that like you’re disappointed.”

You snort, kicking the bag you and Yoongi risked your lives for. You turn to him, “Thank you, comrade, you saved my life.”

Yoongi shuffles uncomfortably, you’re being pleasant and it’s weird. “You’re welcome.”

“We make a good team, hmm?”

You sit on Yoongi’s workbench. In his space. The two of you work in silence as you put together the pieces of your handgun. He cleans the parts of his sniper rifle. He hands you the last piece of your weapon, it’s easier working here with him, his office is quiet. He doesn’t try to make small talk with you, you hate small talk. Your days are not “good.” You’re sick of using your body to lure in your targets, having to do things more than what you’re comfortable with on multiple occasions to complete the mission. But as a female agent, sometimes you think that’s all you're good for, and they would kill you if you tried to leave now. Escaping and living a quiet life without the man who sits next to you, not being able to protect him, you don’t want that either.

You hop off the table, Yoongi had also gotten up from his chair to grab more rags and you collide into each other. He grabs your waist to steady you. You bodies press against one another. You hold your breath. As his strong hands move you to the side, he mutters a sorry.

Yoongi is livid. He is slamming drawers and yanking open cabinet doors as you slowly make your way to sit onto the medical table. The safehouse is empty except for you and him.

“Are you insane or just stupid?” Your partner advances on you hastily, a medical kit in his hands.

You roll your eyes, “It’s just a scratch, I’m fine.” The blood seeping from your side and over your fingers betrays your words.

Yoongi yanks your hand away and grabs the tattered corners of your blood covered shirt and rips it. You try to stay stoic as you sit in front of him in only a bra while Yoongi works to clean and bandage your wound. His actions are so aggressive your body jerks back and forth from his movements. He pulls a bandage particularly tight and you yell, glaring at him. He glares back at you.

“You could have died.” Yoongi says softly. He keeps his eyes trained on your wound, adding the image to the list of reasons on why he doesn’t get close to people.

“And you would have died.”

His hands drop to the medical table as he cages you in. His dark eyes bore into yours, you hate how it makes you feel: vulnerable. “Don’t risk your life for me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

---

“Tell me how much you want me.” Your partner’s low voice whispers in your ears. You think you’d rather die.

His fingernails scratch your scalp as he grabs a hold of your hair and yanks back, pulling you against his front. Your hip digs painfully into the dresser in front of you, as he pushes his body closer to yours. Your face feels tight, the pain burns your scalp, a reminder that you still can feel something. Everything in your life makes you feel numb, but Yoongi makes you feel alive. You hate how addicted you’ve become to his touches.

“If you don’t say it, you won’t get anything,” he tuts, tightening his hold on your hair and a moan escapes you. He pulls your head back and places soft kisses on the column of your neck.

Yoongi waits, his lips attached to your neck as he grinds his hard erection into your ass until you lose yourself to pleasure, unable to take his teasing any longer.

“I want you.”

“I can’t hear you.”

You grind your teeth, “You’re pushing it.”

Yoongi grabs your breast, “Tell me, kitty.” His rough hands on your body is exactly what you want, makes you drip with arousal, but you’ll never tell him that. Instead, you move your hands behind you and grab at his hard erection.

“I can’t seem to remember what I was going to say, do you?” You run your hand down his length and squeeze, his hold on your hair loosens ever so slightly as his breathing turns shallow.

He’s used to your stubborn nature by now, but this kind of fight is something you’ll never win. Yoongi grabs your wrist and holds your arm in place, twisting your arm in a lock and bending you over the dresser. You struggle against him, as he opens your legs wider with his own. “You know kitty, you’re not invincible. Always ready to start a fight. If you’re not careful, someone might decide to teach you a lesson.”

You can see him out of the corner of your eye. He normally looks so composed, but the way he stares down at you so hungrily, he looks wild, eyes blown wide by lust.

“And is that you?” you laugh, grunting as he pushes down on you, grabbing your other arm and locking it behind your back. The weight of him against your back increases, stealing air from your lungs. His low voice whispers teasingly in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, “Do you want it to be me?”

Yoongi stands, watching you struggle against his hold. He knows it would be easy for you to get away from him if you really tried, and the knowledge that you’re submitting to him in your own stubborn way makes his body hot and dick throb. He squeezes your thigh, his thumb rubbing against your center. You’re so wet, your underwear drenched in arousal. He bites back a moan, pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves, rubbing deep circles into you and forcing a whine to escape your lips. He lifts up your skirt, yanking the wet fabric of your underwear down to your thighs. Then his touch becomes slow and teasing. He runs his fingers along your slit, drenching his digits in your essence and bringing them to his mouth. You taste so good, fuck he can’t get enough of you, Yoongi is going to wreck you.

You watch him licking his fingers, the erotic scene making you clench unsatisfyingly around nothing. “Please…” you whisper, the sight of him had broken down your walls.

Yoongi unzips his pants and pulls himself out. He takes no more time, plunging into your heat suddenly. You shudder, it feels so good to have him inside you. He finally lets go of you to grip the flesh of your hips, slamming into you over and over. The force of his thrusts takes your breath away, as your body shifts up and down against the hard surface of his dresser.

With every thrust you feel the tension in your body uncoil, you never want this to end, you’d rather drown in the pleasure he’s giving you then come up for air and deal with the pain of your life. “You feel so good-fuck me harder!” The words leave your lips without thought. You don’t want to feel anything else but his bruising touches, you don’t want to think of anything else but him.

Yoongi grips your shoulder with one hand, moving your body to meet his thrusts as his pace becomes brutal. Your entire body vibrates with pleasure as he manhandles you. You pulse around him as you let go. Yoongi goes faster, using your body to climax, you let yourself moan freely, losing yourself to the pain and pleasure of overstimulation. You can feel him filling you up as he shakes against you.

Your world comes back into focus as you gasp for breath, your body slumped against the desk. “Is that all you’ve got? Hardly a lesson.” Yoongi laughs, wrapping his arms around your middle. He lifts you up and throws you onto the bed. You land with a huff.

---

The silence is deafening as you lay across from your partner. The twin bed in the cheap motel room you share makes it impossible for either of you to have your own space. Neither of you can sleep, and you’re both too tired to complain about the situation, so you stare at each other in the darkness, the neon lights outside your window bathe your faces in soft hues of blue. The cheap sheets scratch your skin, you can feel the hard edges of your gun underneath the old thin hotel pillow, but the soft fabric of Yoongi’s long sleeve shirt feels nice against the back of your hand. You absentmindedly brush your hand against his arm, your fingers play with the baggy material, rolling the fabric between your fingers. Yoongi places his free hand over yours to stop your actions. You’re too tired to question him, nor do you want to break the silence. Yoongi’s features are calm, his hardness is all gone tonight, when he relaxes you think he looks quite soft. Tonight Yoongi doesn’t look like a trained killer at all, his messy hair frames his face and his usual cold eyes radiate warmth. You study each other through half open eyes. Eventually, Yoongi closes his eyes, but doesn’t remove his hand from atop yours. “Go to sleep,” he grunts.

You take a deep breath out. You focus on Yoongi’s steady breathing, trying to keep your heavy eyes open, scared of what you’ll see once you close them, faces of the dead petrified corpses that always reveal themselves against the darkness of your shut eyelids. You study the soft features of your partner instead, able to memorize the details of his face while you’re so close to him. You think of him until sleep takes over.

---

You groan in pain, not ready to open your eyes to the morning light. Your throat is sore and dry, and your entire body aches, especially a certain part of you, the realization snaps you awake. You realize you’re not alone in your bed, you open your blurry eyes to a head of jet black hair. A man sleeps on your naked chest, you can feel his lips against your breast as he quietly snores. You realize his messy locks, the slope of his nose and contours of his muscular arm are all familiar to you, because he’s not a stranger at all. Memories of last night come back to you slowly.

Images of your partner offering you his bourbon, and you gratefully accepting. The pleasant conversation you had together, no arguing or superfluous challenging, just meaningful stories and gentle banter. You remember your partner’s flushed face, the timid smile he tried to hide against his glass, his dark eyes pulling you in. The drunker you became the more you gravitated towards him, until you were pressed up against him, moaning against his lips as his tongue explored your mouth, and you begging him to fuck you. No no no no no.

A wave of mortification and humiliating arousal hits you. You shove your partner off you.

“What the fuck!” Yoongi’s head is pounding, and your punches are not weak. It’s too damn early to be fighting with you already, Yoongi thinks. He pins you down, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He yells, not understanding why you’re here or why you suddenly decided to attack him.

The way his hands pin your wrists brings on another wave of memories that invade your mind and makes your face burn hot with embarrassment. He looks down at you and notices the purple bruises littering your neck and chest, your chest that is absent of a shirt, and your very naked body, against his very naked body. He let’s go of you in his shock. You scoot away from him, pulling the bed sheets up to cover yourself. He stares at you, mouth wide open, trying to place the pieces of last night together. “Oh fuck.”

“This will never happen again.”

His eyes scan your body as his hazy mind replays the events of last night, his face goes red at thoughts of you writhing under him. Yoongi was so desperate to explore your body, make you moan his name. He prays you were too drunk to notice how badly he wanted you. “Never.”

---

You spot three guards in front of the door, ‘a little excessive,’ you think. You grin to yourself as you run through every possible take down you can use against them. They’re big men, and big men always underestimate women.

Yoongi sits patiently, the blindfold doesn’t permit him to see, but he smirks to himself as he hears the sounds of struggle outside.

He hears the door open and close, feet circling him. He struggles against his restraints. Suddenly he feels a weight in his lap. The blindfold is pulled off and he meets your self satisfied face smiling at him.

“Took you long enough.”

You pout. “I should leave you here.”

You press your lips against his. Pulling him close by the hair. He grunts into your mouth. You press yourself down on him, grinding into his hardening length.

Yoongi struggles against his restraints, wanting to pull you closer to him. “Untie me.”

There’s a glint in your eye as you pull away from him. You kiss his neck instead, sucking hard on the sensitive skin behind his ear.

“You’re going to regret not listening to me, kitty.” Yoongi growls.

You laugh against his skin, working to undo his belt. Yoongi groans as you grip his length.

“I thought you were supposed to be rescuing me.”

“I am,” you lick your lips, “but then you had to go and let yourself get tied up.” You hop off his lap and kneel between his legs, Yoongi flexes his arms against the ropes, watching you intently. You bring the head of his shaft to your lips and kiss. The chair shakes as he pulls against his restraints groaning, you give him mercy as you suck him into your mouth, enjoying the way he struggles to keep his composure.

“You’ve had your fun,” he tries to hold in his moans, “you’re going to get yourself captured too because you're such a needy slut for my cock.” He thrusts his hips up, making you choke. It doesn’t deter you, as you press yourself deeper, your nose against his stomach, he shudders and the ropes dig into his wrists as he pulls harder against his restraints.

You pull off of him and look at him with a smirk. “I took care of the guards.” As if you already know Yoongi's next words you say, “I took care of all the guards.” Bringing your mouth around his length again, you suck him hard. You suck him down until you gag, over and over again until you can feel him swell, close to release, and you pull away. If looks could kill, you would have been added to Yoongi’s headcount. You jump to your feet and start cutting away the ropes that bind him.

“I’m untying you only because we are running out of time, not because you asked me to.”

He grunts, thinking of all the ways he’s going to use your body. “Noted.”

When free, Yoongi brings you into a crushing kiss, wrapping his hand around your neck. “Dangerous girl, you deserve to be punished.”

---

You allow yourself to rest against the cold concrete floor, making yourself comfortable in the dirt and grime. Your muscles are sore, and you’re tired. You’re tiredness doesn’t just come from surviving the mission, you’re sick and tired of it all. You were the first to make it to the scheduled rendezvous point, maybe the only one left. You hear footsteps and turn to see your partner jogging towards you, his equipment bag slung over his shoulder, he’s winded, skin covered in dirt from his hasty escape. When he sees you, he runs over to you, his eyes scan over your body but he doesn’t touch you. Your clothes are drenched in blood, but it’s not your own. You look like the walking dead, and you think you deserve to die, you’re a monster.

Yoongi sprawls out next to you, massaging his sore muscles. “If you had let them live your identity would have been compromised.” He knows you had no choice but to kill them. “You did what you had to do to complete the mission.”

“Stop talking, please.” You stare at his dirt covered face, you’re glad he made it out alive, and you wished you hadn’t. Your target had brought his wife and daughter, the agency didn’t warn you, or maybe they knew and didn’t care. You think about the love they must have had, so great he couldn’t be apart from them, and you not only took their lives, but took that love and destroyed it. You knew you were a killer, but you never thought you’d be a villain. You reach for your partner’s hand. He grips you tightly, his fingers are black with dirt, yours are stained with blood. You feel the weight on your chest become even heavier. You wonder if he could ever love you like that, you wonder if you’d just end up destroying that as well.

You lay asleep in Yoongi’s bed. His fingers run along your arm that rests on his chest. During the twilight hours, while you drift off to another world in your slumber, Yoongi allows himself to fully love you. He intertwines his fingers with yours and kisses the soft skin of your wrist, wrapping his arms around your sleeping frame. He let’s himself pretend you’re not in each other's company only for convenience, but because you love him as much as he loves you. He shouldn’t love you, love is too dangerous for people like him, love is a risk too big to take. But until the sun comes up again he gives in to his weaknesses. When you wake, he’ll be strong for you again, he’ll be your shield and protect you from everyone including himself.

---

“So you don’t want to work with me anymore?” You barge into Yoongi’s workspace. He keeps his face emotionless, choosing to ignore you.

So you press on, “I’m with Petrov now, I didn’t request a new partner, so it had to have been you. Why? Answer me!”

Yoongi leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, “You’re overreacting, he’s new, they probably want you to show him how it’s done-”

“Don’t fucking lie to me!”

“There’s a good reason-”

“You’re lying, you’re doing that thing with your hands when you lie!” You yell.

Yoongi shoves his hands in his pockets, his anger getting the better of him, “Fine, maybe I don’t want to be your partner anymore!” You stay silent. “You’re reckless, you never listen to me, you almost died on our last mission. I’m...I’m tired of worrying about you.”

Your chest tightens in pain, his words sting more than any blade or bullet you’ve ever taken. You try to meet his eyes, but he refuses to look at you. ‘Coward,’ you think. You scoff, “Fine...Good...I don’t want to work with you either.” You turn on your heels to leave.

“Wait!” Yoongi stands from his desk and rushes after you. When you refuse to listen, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you against him. “Please, stop,” he whispers in your ear.

You place your arms over his, let his warmth envelope you. You don’t understand him, he’s holding you like you’re about to break in his arms, but he’d let you go off into a mission without him? How could he do this to you? You thought you were a team, you thought you were...friends. You used to feel safe in his arms, now you just feel betrayal. You bite your lip, your sadness turns into bitterness, your bitterness into anger.

You dig your nails in his arms until he hisses and lets you go. You give your partner one last look before exiting his office, you give him one more chance. If he takes it, you’ll find a way to forgive him, to fix whatever it is that made him angry enough to break the bonds between you. But he stays silent, his silence speaks volumes, “Like you said, you don’t have to worry about me any longer. I'm not your problem anymore.” You slam his door shut.

Yoongi’s body is shaking. He slams his fist against the door. He rests his forehead against the wooden surface and swallows down the growing pressure in his throat, processing everything that just occurred. He made the right choice, this was for your own protection, he wouldn’t allow you to care more about his life than your own, he knows he’s right, so why does he feel so sick?

Your reputation precedes you, the tigresse, a top agent. You pull off impossible missions. Maybe it’s because you just don’t care if you can finish the job or not, you’ll choose the riskiest plays, find yourself in the most dangerous scenarios; you’ll choose the more daring escape route, and because of that people are afraid of you, even in your own agency. No one wants to work with you for too long, and you don’t want them to either, so you finally get what you wanted, to work alone. You’re at the top, all alone, there’s no congratulations in your line of work, no happiness.

Yoongi doesn’t have to worry about anyone anymore, even himself. On missions he used to view his sniper rifle as an extension of himself, now he feels just as cold and hollow as the barrel of his rifle, he’s become an empty killing machine. He can’t sleep at night, he wakes up to nightmares of you dying over and over again. Eventually, when he can’t take it anymore, he convinces his superiors to let him act as your backup without your knowledge, they only allow it because you’ve become too valuable to lose. He still can’t sleep at night, slowly losing his mind in solitude, trapped in a cage of loneliness by his own doing. He becomes a shadow, a ghost, making sure the legacy of their best agent survives.

You search for cover, the bullet holes in your body make every movement slow and painful. The holes in your leg keeps you on the ground. You pull yourself through the sea of dead bodies as bullets fly through the air.

You feel a hand on your shoulder, you start to aim your pistol.

“What are you doing here?” The gunman ignores you as he pulls your bloody body into his arms and runs.

Yoongi watched you from his post get shot, one, two, three times until he couldn’t take it anymore. When he couldn’t protect you from a distance anymore, he left his post, his decision as instantaneous as a traveling bullet.

He hides you and him, holding you close, looking over your wounds. He tries to put pressure on the bullet holes, but there are just so many. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, “I was supposed to protect you.”

You touch his face, you can feel the warmth of his skin against your cold fingers, he’s real. “You’re here.”

Yoongi’s trained ears listen to the gunfire as it becomes louder, a sign he needs to move again. He reloads his assault rifle, heaving you up to your feet. You groan as more blood gushes from your wounds. Yoongi uses his assault rifle to make another path for you and him. Your ex partner drags your body along, hiding again to reload.

“You need to save yourself. I’m not going to make it.” You say as you cough up blood. Yoongi pulls you up again, ignoring your words, refusing to accept he can’t save you. As he runs a stray bullet hits his shoulder and you both go down. Yoongi shoots to where he thinks the bullets came from, but his shoulder makes it difficult for him to aim.

“Stop! You can’t die too!” You aim your pistol at the two men advancing upon you from Yoongi’s blind spot. You manage to shoot one, but your blood loss makes your vision hazy and your aim too wide. The second man’s bullets hit Yoongi’s side. Yoongi adjusts his rifle and takes quick revenge. He doubles over in pain.

You grab his hand, your breathing is too shallow to tell him all the things you want to say. “Save yourself...”

“And leave you again? Never.”

Yoongi holds you until you take your last labored breath, and holds you still, until his own blood loss becomes too much.

---

Yoongi doubles over, crashing into you. You try to hold the rapper up, but you are faring no better, your body shakes in phantom pain. His entire weight is on you, you move against the wall for support as both of you try to catch your breath, his head leans on your shoulder, and he groans in agony. You grip his arms. Should you push him away? But you don’t want to. You want to pull him closer. You grip his arms harder, frozen, your mind and body remembering, remembering everything, and it takes every last bit of your willpower not to react.

Finally, after your breaths have settled, he steadies himself on his feet, still pressed against your frame. He lifts his head, you can feel his breath on the side of your face. He laughs weakly against you, “I don’t regret it.”

“What-“ his eyes pierce through you. You realize he hasn’t moved away from you still, you stare back into the idol’s eyes, it all feels so familiar, too familiar...

His nose brushes against your cheek, you hold your breath at the sensation, it’s so familiar. His lips ghost over yours and when you don’t pull away Yoongi presses his lips firmer onto yours.

You feel electricity in every vein, to the tips of your fingers, to the ends of the hair. Emotions that felt like distant memories scorch through you. Your legs buckle.

Yoongi had only meant to give you a quick kiss, just to see how it would compare to his wild memories, but the feelings that came over him overtook every sense of reason left in him. He deepened the kiss. You pulled him closer to you, it was automatic.

He felt his sanity slipping away with every inhale of your scent, a sprouting desire burst through him, a need everlasting lifetimes, it made him desperate to devour you. He pushes his leg in between yours to hold you steady when he feels you falling against him. You yell against his lips, his touch is too overwhelming and you feel yourself slipping away, you try desperately to stay in the moment, remember who you are to him actually. You push him away to catch your breath. “I shouldn’t have done that. I-“

You both jump at the pounding from the door. “Both of you need to come out now.” His voice is muffled, but you’d recognize the distinctive cadence of the BTS leader anywhere. Yoongi mutters words you don’t understand. You yelp as he grabs your hand, leading you to the door.

Namjoon is greeted by the sight of his bandmate and you looking particularly guilty as you leave the bathroom. The way Yoongi holds your hand does not go unnoticed by the leader.

You walk in between the rappers, security following behind you. You can tell Namjoon is annoyed, the way he glances at the nonexistent space between you and Yoongi and clenches his jaw. What are you supposed to do, not hold Min Yoongi’s hand? The firm hold he has on you is the only thing that’s keeping you from falling apart into an anxious puddle on the floor. So instead you spend the walk mentally screaming at yourself.

Namjoon opens an unmarked door and walks in, Yoongi follows directly behind him, pulling you along. You realize where you are as five more pairs of eyes meet yours.

They are all staring at you. You want to run and hide. You move behind Yoongi instead. He hasn’t let go of your hand, and every man in the room notices it.

Namjoon goes first, “We all need to talk.”

---

“So now do you admit it!” Jimin looks between Yoongi and you with a frown.

“He promised he wouldn’t touch her.” Jungkook whines to Namjoon.

“I didn’t promise. I said I wouldn’t...I changed my mind.”

You listen to the group argue glancing over Yoongi’s shoulder, you make eye contact with Jin. His eyes are still red, like he hasn’t stopped crying. For the first time since he grabbed you, you wanted to let go of Yoongi’s hand. Jin is the first to break away, he turns around, overwhelmed. Your face is still perfectly clear in his mind. Your words replay like whispers in his ear, ‘find me.’

You break away from Yoongi and address everyone.

“Uhh, I don’t know...” you start, “I don’t know how any of this works, or why it’s happening in the first place. But it is happening right? It happened to you too?” You look around at their faces, you look into Jimin’s eyes, “You saw me too, I was with you, you looked different, but deep down, it was you.” Jimin shifts uncomfortably under your eyes, he feels his chest tighten at your words, “and you saw me in her too.” You turn to J-Hope. “Right? Please tell me I’m-” you whisper the last part, “I’m not crazy.”

“You’re not crazy.” Hoseok answers you immediately, looking at you with a guilty expression.

Jungkook is nodding up and down at you rapidly.

“I was with you..” Jin walks over to you, but stops before he gets too close, “It felt so real...I was there with you on the cliff…” his eyes are so sad it makes tears well up in your eyes.

“How is this even possible…” Jimin speaks up, “I just don’t understand.” Jimin looks upset. He doesn’t want to believe any of this, none of it makes sense to him.

You can see the pain in their faces clearly. You feel like you’ve done something horrible. All you wanted to do was meet your idols and thank them for making your life better, but you ended up making their lives worse, and you don’t know how or why.

You rub your eyes before you start crying again, “I’m sorry. I should go home, it’s-" you check your phone screen. “One thirty in the morning?! I should leave!”

You jump as the room fills with protests from the men. They all quickly stop as soon as they start. You all stare at each other.

Namjoon takes charge. “How did you get here? We can have a driver take you home! We have to go to the hotel now, before you go home, we can finish talking there.” There is a finality to his words.

You stand there wide eyed, ‘hotel’?

---

So now you sit alone in the back of a large car with four managers. They have given you forms to fill out. A stack of papers full of NDAs. You felt like you were signing your life away. You wanted to tell them to take you home, but you stayed silent, you didn’t want to cause anymore trouble.

You follow the managers through the hotel into an elevator, to the top floor. They lead you into a massive penthouse and shut the door behind you. Jungkook is already inside waiting for you. He’s still in his fanmeet clothes, the other men were still showering and changing, he couldn’t wait any longer to see you again, for a chance to be with you alone.

You stand in the center of the room, unsure of what to do. Alone with the idol, your nerves skyrocket again.

Jungkook slowly makes his way closer to you. He stands in front of you, mirroring much like the way he stood in front of you at the fanmeet, his arms rock nervously by his sides. He bends down a little bit closer to you, and offers you a lopsided smile. “Hey beautiful.”

You shut your eyes, you can’t bear to look at him, you can’t accept that he just said that to you. His words make you ache inside.

The idol waits and gives you space, feeling shy. You can’t take it, his words throw your thoughts into a whirlwind, you want him back, you want what you had together again. You and the idol are worlds apart, but the Jungkook you had felt when your hands touched, he was your entire world.

“Please.” You beg him, offering your hand to him. You don’t know what you’re asking for, you don’t know what touching him will accomplish. You feel just so alone, exhausted from fighting against everything you’re feeling, Jungkook all but gave you permission to give in.

He smiles at you, places his palm against yours. It feels so good, so warm. He clasps his fingers around yours, reaches for your waist with his other hand and pulls you against him with one fell swoop. You already know why, you wrap your free arm around his neck and hold him to you. You can feel his heart beating wildly against you, you know he must feel yours as well. He rests his forehead on yours. It’s there again, that spark that explodes inside you, threatening to detonate all your sense of reason. Neither of you move, frozen in dance. He begins to hum a tune, a tune that pulls a smile from you-

The door opens and you jump to sit on the edge of the couch, much to Jungkook’s displeasure.

The rest of the group files into the large hotel room, they are all changed into more comfortable clothes. They look clean and refreshed, you realize just how tired and achy your body feels, you want to take a shower too.

Namjoon gives the youngest a hard look, “You didn’t change. You were in here the whole time? After we said we’d speak to her all together. How long were you alone with her? I told you-“

“I arrived only a couple minutes ago, nothing happened.” You interject, feeling the need to defend the youngest member.

Namjoon looks at you surprised. “Your Korean is good.”

You start to feel shy again, “Not really,” you speak in English instead.

“Okay, so let’s figure this out.” Namjoon starts, “Jungkook, do you want to go first?”

“Wait!” Taehyung interjects, “I thought-Joon don’t you want to hold her hand?”

You stiffen. Namjoon goes red, “I-first let’s gather information.”

Taehyung goes to stand. You recoil in your seat. You turn to Namjoon, pleading, “I can’t-I can’t do it again.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, Tae-”

“Says you, you already got to touch her-”

“And that’s why I’m telling you not to do it-”

“No one is touching her-”

“Joon, can you please talk some sense into them-”

“Can we please focus-”

“If you get anywhere near her I’m punching you in the face-”

“Can we all just calm down-”

“I’ll punch you in the face-”

“No one is punching anyone!”

“I thought we were supposed to be talking this out, not starting fights-“

“I knew this was a bad idea-”

“How am I supposed to talk it out when I don’t even know what it is-”

They all talk so fast and over each other you can barely understand anything they are saying, but you know it’s not anything good. This is getting nowhere. “I-I’m so tired, I should really go home. I need to shower. Today has been...a long day.”

“You can stay in one of the rooms! We have the whole floor-Ow!” Jimin hits Jungkook in the shoulder.

“I-I need to go to the bathroom.” You feel trapped again. You go to stand and you feel a hand tug on yours, it’s Yoongi. “Take a deep breath. Nothing is going to happen to you, I promise. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. You should at least rest before we take you home.”

You bite your lip, looking around at the men. Jungkook looks at you with hopeful eyes.

“....Okay.”

“I’ll take her!” Jin, Yoongi, and Jungkook speak in unison. They look between one another. Jin, stands up, “I’ll take her.”

You silently follow him out, hearing the boys start conversing again behind you. You stay behind him as he walks down the hall. Your face heats up again as you stare at the idol’s back. Is this really happening to you? You should leave.

Jin takes a keycard out of his pocket and opens the door, holding it open for you. You walk in, it’s smaller than the other room, still larger than any hotel room you’ve ever been in. Jin picks up the suitcase from the middle of the room.

“I’ll find another room to stay in.” You feel your chest tightening again at his words. “Rest now, y/n, and then we can get to the bottom of this in the morning,” he smiles down at you. His eyes linger on you, about to speak again but he decides it’s better to wait.

You tug at his hoodie as he goes to leave. “I…” you want to tell him not to leave you alone, “I don’t have any clothes to change into.”

“Oh, I can give you some of my clothes!” You bite your lip as you watch Jin set his suitcase on the bed and rummage through his clothes. He pulls out a collection of hoodies, shirts and pants, way too many clothes for one sleeping outfit.

“Thank you…” you walk with him to the door. He lingers there with you.

“This...this is a good thing.” You cock your head to the side, Jin pats your head, “I found you after all.” And with that he leaves you to your thoughts.

---

After showering you feel so much better. You stand in your towel, looking around at the room. 'This must be a dream,' you think. Your hands run over the stack of Jin’s clothes. This stack probably costs more than all the clothes you’ve ever bought in your entire life, you think. You sigh and pull on a shirt and sweatpants, and decide to throw on a hoodie too for good measure. You start to laugh as you look at yourself in the hotel room’s mirror. You’re sure you're going to wake up tomorrow and this will all be a wild dream. You’re about to settle into bed when you hear a knock.

Jungkook stands in the hallway. He stares at you with wide eyes before looking at his feet. “I brought you clothes to wear.”

“Oh,” you look at him shocked.

“I see someone already gave you theirs,” he looks crestfallen.

“Yeah, Jin took care of that.” You pull on the strings of the hoodie in embarrassment.

“Oh well for tomorrow morning, you can wear this.”

You don’t have the heart to tell him Jin gave you enough clothes to cover an entire week. “Thank you. I’ll wear it tomorrow.”

“Okay...good.”

You hold your breath. You want to keep talking to him. “Your English is good, you sound like an American now.”

Jungkook smiles, too shy to meet your eyes. “Thank you.”

“You can speak in Korean too, I understand. I am not that good at speaking it, but I guess now is the best time to practice.” You laugh. Jungkook nods at you, his smile growing wider.

“Goodnight, beautiful.” He winks at you. You feel your heart tighten at his words.

“Jungkook!” He turns back around. “Um, sweet dreams.”

Jungkook looks you over. “Can I?”

“Huh?” He steps closer to you, you stay still. He reaches his arms out and wraps them around you in a hug. His head rests on the top of your head as he holds you close to him. It feels like you remember, his embrace feels the same. You grip onto the material of his long sleeve shirt. He holds you closer. All you can smell and feel is Jungkook.

Jungkook holds you close to him. He doesn’t know how to feel. His heart aches in anguish over the thought of losing you again. He doesn’t want to let you go.

In his arms you feel so safe, you relax against him. A wave of sleepiness crashes over you. Jungkook helps you into bed.

“I’ll come get you in the morning.” He runs his hands over your forehead. The intimate gesture doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but you're too tired to react. Your heart is full. Is this what true love feels like?

---

You stretch in your bed. Your muscles ache, you feel good after a night's rest. You snuggle into your pillow, it’s so fluffy and soft, softer than you’re used to, you pull your covers closer to you. You notice the large sleeves of your hoodie, and your sleepiness drains away. It’s not your bed, and that’s not your hoodie. You sit up, looking around the unfamiliar room, you feel like you’ve been doused with cold water. Everything from the night before comes back to you. You pull the covers over your head, so much for a good morning.

You grab your phone. You have a text message: ‘call me when you get home <3’ and two missed calls. You bury your head into the pillows. You're about to call back when there is a knock at the door.

“One minute!” You change into Jungkook’s clothes, a black long sleeve shirt and black sweatpants. Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you decide to change your pants for one of Jin’s joggers.

“Hey!” You expected Jungkook to greet you, this was not who you expected.

"Hello." The deep voiced singer stands in front of you. You stare back at him. He walks into your room and takes a seat on the bed. You close the door behind you and walk over to Taehyung.

“I’m so sorry about last night! I would have never touched you without your permission. I’m sorry I made you feel uncomfortable, I’m so sorry. I just-I just needed to find out. I have to. I know you’re scared, I’m scared too...Jungkook and I talked last night and he told me what happened, he said it was more than just memories, it’s like...an awakening. I mean, that’s so cool. If we had another life together, wouldn’t you want to know? Please y/n, I feel like I’m going crazy not knowing-“

“Speak slower please, I’m still a beginner!” You laugh.

“Sorry! Please y/n, please. Before the others wake up.”

You sigh, sitting next to him. “I think Jungkook is leaving out very important information...”

You continue, “We not only lived, we died.” You shut your eyes and wrap your arms around you, “I’ve lived and I’ve died 5 times now. It’s horrible, it’s heartbreaking, it’s not something you can just forget.”

Taehyung sits quietly. “Do you regret it?”

You bite your lip. Do you regret it? You feel it still, the warmth of their love for you. The way they loved you, the way you loved them. Would you give that memory up? Even the lingering feelings in your body are stronger than anything you’ve ever felt in your lifetime. Could you let it go now that you know what you’re missing?

Taehyung presses, “Jungkook says he's happy it happened.”

You inhale sharply. You have to make him see. “Jungkook died in my arms. He died after we tried so hard to run away together.” Taehyung eyes widen. “He was murdered...” You shudder, Taehyung stays silent. “Is that the kind of ‘awakening’ you want?”

He raises a hand to his mouth, stroking his chin. “He didn’t tell me about that...” And then he says something that makes your heart stop. “And he still said he's happy it happened, that he doesn't want to forget about you y/n.”

“Please, I want to try, I think it would be worth it, you’ll be worth it.”

‘Why did he have to say that,’ you wince, looking over at the idol. He is beautiful, way out of your league, above you in every way, and he’s looking back at you like his whole world hangs in the balance. How could you reject him now. You groan.

You stand up. You place your palm in front of his face, your fingers splayed out, you can see his wide excited eyes in the gaps between them. You look at him expectantly. Taehyung nods, places his palm to yours, interlocking your fingers together.

---

Uh-oh the boys don’t want to let you go now! I hope you liked this chapter as much as I liked writing it! It’s kind of cool, all the different worlds. I neverrrr thought I’d write an actiony spy enemies to lovers AU ever, trust. I had to get a lot of help with all the specific terminology, like me - guns - what - totally clueless, I just hope I did the story justice.

Hopefully this tides you over for awhile because we have a problem...I don’t remember anything about Tae’s handshake! Cries. I know what’s supposed to happen, but I also have no idea what happens lol. I know movie, but not movie name, if you get what I’m saying. Please bestow some patience on me for the next chapter. Asks are always open, maybe you can give me some inspiration! <3

#bts soulmate au #bts fantasy au #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts angst #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #reader x ot7 #bts enemies to lovers #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #min yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi angst

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