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riewritten · 1 year

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「MERE DROPLETS OF WATER CAN STILL MAKE A GLASS FULL」

ERWIN X FEM!READER, ERWIN X YOU, NO Y/N

˚ · .─ WORDS: 5.3k

˚ · . ─ TAGS: age gap, angst because erwin and the forbidden love trope :(, erwin is a professor/researcher while reader is his research assistant, touch-starved idiots, angst angst angst

Erwin Smith has always been the person to give where credit is due—sometimes excessively—despite your gaps in age, profession, and the lack of interaction when out of work premises. He can be meticulous with outputs, brutally honest even, but considerate to his research assistant nonetheless. All with constant assurances of "It's okay, you'll get the hang of it soon," and when you respond, "What if I don't?" he smiles as if to say he's been there too, "Then I failed as your mentor," he cocks his head to the side in a light tease, "and I'm not the type who fails unless I say so, am I?"

The camaraderie, the neverending reminders of how crucial collective work is, among many others—got you drawn, utterly motivated, and so you clung to him to learn more.

One evening, when Erwin says he must stay overnight at the office to finish an output, you excuse yourself. He thought you were going home until you entered again, this time with two cups of coffee.

Although seated in his office chair, how his thick blanket wraps him up seems like he’s ready to bed. He got his bed hair too—tousled, the usual gel removed because he had already washed his face. The dim lights aren’t helping in toning down his delicate features either. In fact, his reading glasses accentuated it further. And oh, the small, warm smile he gives you is even more apparent than any daylight.

“What are you doing here?

You nudge a look at your workstation, own backpack occupying the whole chair. "I hadn’t grabbed my stuff yet."

"Well, I assumed you were gonna send me a message full of keyboard smashes and a favor to book a courier taxi for your bag."

Soft chuckles ensue as you sit on the chair before him, "I will never put you into such inconvenience, Sir, but I believe we can submit this draft if we work on it together tonight."

Erwin holds back his gratitude, not so convinced to let a youngster like you stay. Although your help is very much needed, he can't just take that for granted. You have a life outside this office. Your salary as his research assistant isn’t even that high. "Thank you for the coffee. I was just about to get out for one. But really, don't bother with this and go home."

"I insist, Sir."

"And I respectfully refuse."

Of course, you know that much. Not even a coffee bribe could convince him. That’s why you hand him a folder instead: "I saw your to-do list for tonight and remembered that I had already done the basic outline. Would you mind checking it to see if it could help?"

Easy, Erwin thought to himself. He just has to point out the mistakes, thank you for your effort, and then book a cab because it's getting really late now. However, when he opens the document, needless to say, Erwin is perplexed.

You did well; you really did. You took his brutal feedback to heart. Now he's left with no other remarks than pride. This is no basic outline at all, but rather half of the work he had to do for tonight.

It also doesn’t take his astuteness to see that you have lied. All of these were done today. Erwin is sure you sneaked into his table earlier to see his to-do list. He knows you too much to know that you had spent the rest of your shift rushing to finish it in his stead. However, Erwin also knows how flustered you’d be once he points that out, so he just opts not to.

"Well, seems like I'll be able to sleep tonight after all," he put down the folder and smiled. "Thank you very much. This is by far the most excellent output I've got from you."

Your eyes lit up. The high praise overpowered any semblance of fluster, "Really? Is it that good?"

"It is. I just have to continue the rest. You may now go home."

"No, I told you I'm staying in for tonight."

"What else would you do?"

"Uh… help you with the rest of the output?"

"I can do that alone."

"But easier with my help!" When you sense that his insistence is, in fact, non-negotiable, you just sigh and pull out a lie. "Okay, it's because I have a favor."

"Oh?" The needed cue, perhaps. He cannot accept an offer that wouldn’t benefit both parties. If you have an agenda for this stay, then, "What could that be?"

You don't want this favor to be something he has to pay for, "Well, if my output is okay and you have no other comments, then maybe you could consider me joining the fact-finding mission next month?"

"The place isn’t finalized yet; it can be really far from here."

"I know and I still want to join either way," Besides, it gives you more chances of helping him.

"Okay, go on then, but you don't have to stay overnight for that,” Erwin chuckles. “You could've just asked me during office hours."

"I want to prove that I'm capable first."

Erwin, although tried to hide it in consideration for your feelings, got quite amused at the remark. He didn't see the possibility of you getting this insecure over your skills. "You've always been capable. You're not the longest research assistant I've had for nothing.”

"Really? Did you fire the previous ones?"

"No. I treat my RAs the way I do so with my students. You’re not my employees. It’s just that some if not most, couldn't take the demand work-wise. You're one of the few who withstood revising your output five times."

"Then all the more reason to let me stay here tonight, don't you think? With the upcoming fact-finding, I'll need this one now."

Erwin removed his glasses with a sigh, ready to bargain again. "You don't need to go this far, is what I'm telling you. You're still young; don't tie yourself over—"

"I want to learn more and stay longer in this field. I already take pride in being your longest RA, and I can do more than that! I'll get even more capable. We'll get this research internationally. If you’re talking about my youth, I have a worthwhile agenda!"

Erwin, as rare as it could be, was speechless. it’s as if he’s looking at himself, too—a younger, much more enthusiastic version of him with an unwavering thirst for knowledge. He had also realized that there’s no use stopping you. You're not the kind of person to be stopped; you're no brittle glass; you're one aching to be filled with more water.

With that, he defeatedly wears his glasses again, "Suit yourself. Don't hesitate to ask me questions while you're at it."

You beam in delight. It is surely contagious that Erwin almost smiled. "However," he sternly emphasized, "You'll sleep. I'll set the alarm. If that rings, set yourself on the couch and sleep, understood?"

It was quickly replaced with a frown, "I'll sleep after I finish."

"You're inside my office outside office hours. Your welfare is in my hands."

You turn your back in forlorn, your work plan ruined because your boss is too kind for his own good.

"Answer me."

"Yes, Sir."

Above your insincere compliance, however, Erwin feels warmth trembling inside him. It’s a sheer appreciation, an urge even, to ensure you'll have what you aspire to have.

He really assured you’d be asleep by three in the morning. When Erwin checks you on the couch, your eyebrows are curled, disappointment evident even in your subconscious state. He laughs, grabs a thicker blanket, and covers you in it—all believing that the warmth trembling inside him is just a resolve to help you achieve your goals.

What Erwin had felt since that day was something akin to a guardian. You seem to desire to reach a place exactly where he is. Although unsure of your reasons why, Erwin feels capable of doing that much.

But you know the reason quite well, and it's rather disappointing than noble. You like Erwin, and so you want to stand on equal ground. In your defense, you had a long period of denial. This could be nothing but a silly infatuation, mistaking admiration for affection, and—god, out of all reasons to use as a resolve, why a silly little crush over your boss?

The dilemma is to build up a resolve stronger than infatuation. However, infatuation doesn't last for years. It doesn't get to the point of getting included in your long-term plans in life.

So, in time, alongside Erwin getting more comfortable and closer to you, your resolve to be his equal slipped beyond the professional scheme. It transcended to your habits, to your preference, to your physical appearance—your playlist is set a generation behind, being called young irks you, you dress like your older workmates, you're eager to conceal the emotions lacking composure, the sudden surge when excited, among many other things that fit the standard of maturity.

You want to stand beside him, to be regarded as his equal, because by then, maybe… maybe he'd consider having you longer in his life.

Erwin construed your methods differently, though. He pitied you just as though the institution was depriving you of your youth. That's why when you enter your masters degree, he refers you to joining study groups of people your age. He sticks his ear out regarding college nightouts to tap you to join them. He even considered hiring another young assistant in the department so that you could have someone to jive with.

"No, I'd rather be the one to stay here. I like the way our office works right now.”

"Why? Are they out of your league? Way too old to mingle with them, perhaps?

You shrug, "Maybe. I'm not getting younger after all. Isn’t it obvious?”

"It’s not,” Erwin quips. “Let yourself be young."

"Sir, I am not young anymore."

"You are. Remember the last fact-finding? A local thought you were someone's child—"

"I will never forgive them for that!" you hissed at the memory. "I might’ve been the youngest one that time, but to say I'm an employee's child is overreacting!"

"Well, you were indeed the youngest out of everyone. It's not a surprising comment."

You don’t answer, obviously trying to keep your annoyance to yourself. It begged Erwin to ask, "Do you hate being young?"

You do! Oh hell, you do. Being younger means farther from where he is—being incapable of reaching him, holding his hand, his hair, and all the things you want to grasp with adoration. Being young means maintaining a table-away distance, which must be safeguarded so normalcy remains in peace. Being younger imposes a lot of things that render you in swirling emotions of disdain, sadness—grief, even.

He calls your name, genuinely confused, "What's bad with being so young? You're the first person I've ever seen rushing away from it."

And, for the first time ever, Erwin is taken aback by the look you give him. It is sad, utterly sad. There’s a tinge of tremble in your lids, eyebrows curled, and if he squints his eye further, he’ll see how close you are to crying.

However, before your eyes could speak more of what you wanted to say, you avert the gaze away and continue your job as if nothing had happened.

Erwin is quite taken aback to address the sudden peculiarity, and you couldn’t even gather the guts to clarify due to the trembling. At that moment, only one thing had registered with the older man: the talk of being young is a grave matter to you. It concerned him further.

"Hey," Hange, your workmate, places a cold can of coffee on your cheek, "Penny for your thoughts? You're quite down lately."

"I almost cried in front of Mr. Smith last week."

"Oh? Maybe that's why Erwin told me to look over you more often. What brought you that, though? You seem to be immune to his brutal standards by now."

"It's quite more childish than that."

"You're not even old. Let yourself be childish."

You frowned badly, "That's what he told me."

Hange takes a while to grasp the context, but when they finally do, "You're getting on my nerves now, huh! Youthfulness is not something to shed a tear for!"

"Being young exposes me to a lot of belittling!"

"Seriously? Just because of that?"

"People look at me as though I'm lacking many things!"

"Even people as old as Erwin can be as lacking as you are!"

"But they can still stand beside him as equal either way! Despite lacking many things in life, all of you can reach him in a way I never could because of my age! Because I'm automatically seen as someone inferior due to youthfulness! I know it's not something to frown upon, but I'm getting quite sick of it, too, you know?"

However, the sharp Hange went past the said concern. It says a lot with the way they call your name with wide eyes, "Don't tell me you…you like him?" The last word is a whisper, just as if someone from behind has been listening all along.

That realization drenches you in cold water.

You turn sidewards slowly, hoping in all your might that it isn't what you think it is.

Oh, how you hate to be right.

Erwin didn't make his presence known while you and Hange were talking—no apparent emotion present, and yet it didn't take you much to know that he heard it nonetheless. There's something only you could notice, too. For the past few days, Erwin's face has been full of questions about finding something—something very apparent but still out of reach.

The hint of bother is gone now. He had reached his answer.

He now knows you like him.

You almost feel yourself throwing up.

"Okay," Hange said from behind, "well… if you really don't like to be deemed as young, then I respect that. It's not like your reasons are irrational."

By that time, you couldn’t hear Hange’s rationalizations anymore. In fear that Erwin would refer you to another person needing RA as a better choice to expand your horizons, you never gave anyone a chance to talk about it again—not Hange, not Erwin, and even more so, your own mind.

You didn't know how Erwin processed that information, but there's one thing you noticed: Erwin's attempts to jive you along your age group had stopped, and he never called you young again.

Only if you knew the reason why.

Only if you knew that, in hindsight, it'd just be very understandable, very human of him to rather die than act upon the feelings he has for you, not only because of the probable ruin it’d bring to his reputation, but also because he’s scared for you, for your future, for the endless opportunities you could have if not tied by your affection towards him.

And thus, he'd rely on the subtleties of loving you silently. He is glad you never brought up the unintentional confession again. He believes that due to that, you two went back to normal as quickly as possible. Senior to junior relationship. The researcher and his assistant. The mentor and his mentee. The normalcy. Every semblance of normalcy you two could hang on, as if your relationship, even after all those years, is none but a brittle glass. There has to be a certain amount, a certain pressure, just so it would not break apart.

Erwin loves subtleties. He doesn’t mind the arrangement at all. You're short on money? He'll lend you one—only because you'd never let yourself not pay him back. You look tired? He'll offer cups of coffee to everyone in the office so it doesn’t get obvious that the gesture is only for you. You need someone to talk to and listen to your funny stories, perhaps? Heck, that would be his utmost favorite profession.

He'll keep doing just that until the subtleties in question start to pile up, and up and up. Until Erwin realizes, “No, I am not okay with this arrangement at all.” He can only fool himself for a certain period of time. After all, mere droplets of water can still make a glass full.

As his most capable and astute—perhaps even too sharp for your own good—you'll start picking up clues from his quiet verges. The ticking time bomb flashed before you upon overhearing Erwin and Levi talking alone.

“You’re decided now? Really? After all we had gone through to keep this institution alive?”

"It's only a matter of time until I lose myself. Losing myself means running whatever she has for herself."

"You manage not to lose yourself all this time. What difference would this make? As long as you keep your hands in place like every other day, then everything will remain in its rightful place. Everyone needs you here, Erwin."

For a moment, you sure saw a cynical look on Erwin. “People like me are always meant to be replaced eventually, Levi. I know you can do it.”

“I could if I deem the reason valid,” Levi scorns. “You’ve never been like this. All you had worked so hard for only to be sapped by your underling.”

He chuckles, albeit sadly. "I underestimated the things she could do without her knowing."

Indeed, he might've done just that. Slowly but surely, you tried to convince him to stay in your own subtle ways. You reiterated Levi’s remarks about how the institution needs him, and eventually, when his resolve didn't waver, you broke down. You broke down, begging that you need him.

"If this concerns your teetering control over your affection, I'll try my best not to disturb you!"

If Erwin weren't so level-headed, Erwin would surely break his composure.

"You knew?"

"If you're so scared to shatter this peaceful and normal setup, then I'll set my mind to not ruining it, too! Just please, please don't go.”

You knew. You knew. You knew.

As if things couldn't get any worse, you huffed a sob when Erwin’s silence persisted. Eventually, he smiled. It's no use underestimating you further, after all. He deems you sharp and smart for a reason. In that measly smile, you knew he’d never change his mind anymore. Oh, there's no use underestimating each other.

"This is something I really want to do for myself," Erwin called your name; empathy laced his voice, "I hope you understand."

You sob harder. And for the first and last time, Erwin lets himself give in to his vices. He walks towards you and wraps your sullen figure in his embrace. He doesn’t hug too hard, but rather just enough to deem it a friendly farewell—not in any way related to his unwavering but forbidden affection.

Years after Erwin had gone overseas, it came to you that he had married someone. The marriage didn't last long. Most people in the office believed that his declining health after that—according to his colleagues there—was due to the divorce.

Voiding yourself of any lament that his affection might be something he left in this office, you set your mind to following him. Somehow, there's this silly, silly thought inside your head, and the only way to satiate it is to prove yourself wrong.

"Erwin heard you're planning to follow him there."

"Really? What did he say?"

"He didn't take the news well. Asked me to change your mind instead."

"Levi, you're not making me change my mind by outing him."

"We both know no one can convince you anymore once you set your mind to it. Erwin knows it, too. He’s just desperate, hence the favor,” he tiredly muses. "Just… just don't make this harder as it is."

"Why? Why would I make it harder? What relevance do I even have?"

"You know the reason why he left."

"And? He moved on!” You almost feel your blood boil; the remark left a bitter taste in your mouth. “He had a wife not long after!"

"And if I tell you that the reason he got divorced is the same reason why he left us here, what then?" Levi raises his eyebrows as if taunting, and because you were too shocked to retort, he just nods sarcastically. “You couldn’t take it, yeah? Too unbearable? That’s what I thought.”

You're not even there yet, and you've already proved your silly thoughts right.

Minutes pass until you open your mouth again, "I'm not the one to rely on groundless rumors."

"Rumor is the last thing that will come out of my mouth."

"I already booked a flight."

Levi rolls his eyes, defeated, upon realizing you’re about to cry. He leaves the room without a word, leaving you and the tears teetering at the lid of your eyes.

Upon arrival at the country he’s in, you sought him first and foremost. He gave a small smile, full of endearing familiarity, but in the corner of his eyes, there was this lurking forlorn.

"You look like you've seen better days, Sir."

He tiredly laughs, "And you're not making this easier for me."

"I know… but I stand by my word. I decided not to ruin this peaceful and normal setup you've so bravely built for us."

You made sure the sarcasm would be too apparent to miss. Surely, it rendered Erwin in a tormenting silence. A squint of your eyes and you’d see how—in a couple of seconds—close he was from shattering. His fingertips shook, perhaps from the urge to act upon his feelings, an urge he expertly ignored until he couldn’t anymore. You saw his eyes turn even more poignant, only to blink so they would display a relatively more appropriate emotion. He opened his mouth only to close it again, open and close, until he gulped down. In the end, Erwin still bravely decided not to shatter the professionalism between you.

Erwin nods and calls your name, thankful, "Indeed, we had worked so hard to do that much. I trust you to keep that attitude up."

However, to your surprise, Erwin asked you to dinner three weeks after you settled. Now, as you sit by each other with drinks in your hands, there comes lurking questions of "what if?" inside your heads.

You silently ponder about what if you didn't let Erwin be bothered by your concerns about age in the first place. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't get a country far away from you, not to the point of taking someone as his wife so that he could throw away his affection.

But then, thinking about it just makes you annoyed right now.

Unlike before, you’re trying your best this time. You’re trying even better in toning yourself down. You ensure day by day that you'll never cross into each other. You never try to see him unless he asks. Knowing that he's nearby keeps you at ease already. That's what you're on all this time—not to be too far from where he is.

So why did he ask you out tonight?

Erwin speaks of his “what if” when the silence got too tormenting for him. "Maybe if I referred you to another division as soon as I heard that, then—" he doesn’t finish the remark, though; everything was enough with his defeated sigh. Despite the lack of eye contact, you can observe that he's already drunk, too.

You took that to your benefit.

"What would change?"

"A lot of things, I'm sure."

"Such as…?"

"The need to undergo this kind of torment."

You could almost feel yourself crumbling. This was supposedly a catching-up night out. It was going well so far.

"Is liking me really that distasteful for you back then?" you joke—oh, you hope you could tone it as a joke. Erwin chuckles. The chuckle gave you a sigh of relief.

"Levi had told you even that one, I see."

The conversation is starting to leave a bitter taste in your mouth. You start to fidget around the hem of your blouse, unsure if the sensation is due to the drink or the conversation. "I think I've drunk enough. I have errands to do early in the morning. I guess we'll—"

"Liking you was never a distasteful matter for me."

You stop. The churn in your stomach gets even larger. If he says it this softly, how could you stop the urge to run to him, hold him close in comfort, and say that it was never his fault that he liked you—that both of you are not at fault for liking each other?

"Liking you was never a distasteful matter; acting upon that likeness is," he added.

"You never acted upon it."

"I did," Erwin dismissed the notion quickly despite his mind slowed down by the drink, "I acted upon it because I didn't transfer you to another professor as soon as I realized why you don't want to be young anymore."

"Because no one brought it up again. I made sure no one would—"

"I acted upon it because I took advantage of your preference never to bring that up. I hid along the subtleties and even enjoyed doing so."

Erwin then places his glass of wine on the table. It's empty. You want to fill it up yourself; if only the taste of wine in your mouth didn't get too bitter to handle.

When you feel the bitterness tipping tears in your eyes, you reply, "I decided not to ruin this peaceful and normal setup you built for us. We're not—" The bitterness didn't subside; it says a lot with tears cutting you off midway, "—fuck."

"Why did you follow me here?"

"I didn't. I saw this as an opportunity for the betterment of my goals."

"What goals, exactly?"

Of reaching you where you are—both of you know that would be your primary, unchanging answer. "Goal to find myself somewhere somehow. I can’t do that there.”

He smiled at the lie, "Are you sure you'll be able to find yourself here?"

"I always find myself wherever you are."

His smile falters in a bit of surprise. He never thought it'd be a truth on your end.

"I said we're not supposed to talk about this; why would you—" You finally give in to the grief. You cover your face and sob, "I've set my mind on it. I already ensured I would—"

"Do you still like me?"

His question freezes you, your cries, the motion and sound of the place surrounding you, even.

"It's an irrelevant question, sir. There's no point in hearing my answer."

"How about my answer?" Erwin prompts. "Are you okay without hearing it?"

Huh?

You look up at him, breath getting heavier. "What do you mean…?"

Instead, he looks at you straight in the eye. He might be a bit drunk, but he decided this with a clear mind. This is why he asked you tonight, "Don't you want to hear my answer?"

"I want to."

He nods as expected, "Then answer it first."

"I still like you," you looked away in a fluster. "It never wavered despite your attempts to go away from me."

"I was away from you for five years," Erwin says. Despite the gentleness, you could feel how he emphasized the time out of frustration. “Do you have any idea how long five years is?”

"Yes, and still. Your efforts were futile. I told you so. It would help no one. Going far away from me would help no one.

The statement renders him in silence yet again. You’re about to give the question back at him until you notice the fragile expression he has on his face. He’s looking down at the glass, now half full, but with sullen eyes and defeated composure.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

"I asked for it," Erwin clarifies.

"I know."

"And I'm yet to give my answer."

"Please do."

"Are you sure you want to hear it?"

Honestly, you fear he'd say no—that he doesn't like you anymore. Worse, that he liked his then-wife more than you. However, any answer that warrants his complete honesty is something you need to be able to move forward from tonight.

Your ponders are cut off when he cups your cheek. It tilted your face slightly, but just enough to look him in the eye again. This is the first time you see his eyes up close. Your heart would jump in delight if not for his sad face. Erwin’s thumb then moves circular motions on your cheeks as if savoring the first time it's ever been granted the privilege of touching you intimately.

"It never wavered for me, too, but I guess this answer isn't surprising on your end, is it?"

"I… never got the chance to confirm it, so…"

"That's why," his hold on your cheek gets quite tighter, and voice turned into a whisper—into a tiny, desperate plea. “Please don't make this harder for us and go back there. Can you do that for me?"

"Why would it be harder if we both like each other?"

Was the question too naive? That's the first thing you thought, and Erwin answered yes, it is, by wrapping his palm on your other cheek.

"In a hopeful and kinder world, we wouldn't budge an eye with what others say. It won't bother you a bit if your loved ones scorn you. You'd take the institution's disdain with a grain of salt. You'd look past beyond the side eyes of your friends and colleagues because it's not a big deal." he paused as he shot a look all over your face, finding a hint of understanding. "You see, we're not in a hopeful and kinder world I'm speaking of."

"But I can do what you said despite that."

"And the thing is, I can't," Erwin admits. "I couldn't live at the thought of subjecting both of us to that position."

You feel your cheeks numbing, every fluid inside you emptying as if something cracked underneath.

"Do you understand? It's not just the things we can do, but also the things we can't at all."

"Are you not willing to try?"

"Dying would be way easier for me."

Oh.

Oh no.

When you’re not able to answer, his hands gently withdraw away from your cheeks—the simple touch, perhaps, was able to satiate the years-long yearning for him.

And most of all, he was able to register his point.

"Days after your arrival, I realized that our normalcy is now nothing but a foolish facade. It's been ruined since the day you came here,” he chugs the last bits of his drink before readying himself to go, "All I'm asking for is a favor. I don't want to spend the rest of our lives like this."

You had never thought how requited love could inflict greater pain than love unreturned. It’s not mere droplets that made the glass full this time, but rather a huge downpour that cracked it into pieces.

You could neither nod to agree nor glare in disdain. All you could do is grab your things and walk away from the scene even before he could witness the crying mess that you're about to be due to his words.

As Erwin watches you storm out, he clasps the hands that just touched your cheeks. Erwin hoped that alone—as your cheeks, scent, and your very presence were the most pleasant thing he had laid upon for years—he hoped that would suffice for him. After all, despite the shattering confrontation, he could confirm that the warmth he felt upon touching your cheeks just now was the same as the night he saw you sleeping on the office couch.

And the warmth will stay for as long as he lives, unrelentingly ungranted.

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gyuphorias · 2 years

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omfg youre sooo cute l… i almost feel bad for sending this in after reading your other post :(

that whole brat dynamic thing i sent early made me want to want you to write about the exact dynamic well not the exact same but something like it with yeonjun(hes my bias and apparently is the bias of your other followers too😭😭)-🥀

you're so sweet ilysm absolutely don't worry about sending in a request ever <3 also ur so right idk what it is but almost all of my requests are abt yeonjun it's actually amazing tbh gyuphorias, population: yeonjun stans

flipped switch | c. yeonjun

warnings afab!reader, sexual content (brat taming, degradation, spanking, manhandling, dacryphilia, choking, edging, pussy slapping), daddy (used once)

word count 1.5k

you're not quite sure what's gotten into yeonjun tonight. maybe it's the nice date he took you on earlier in the evening, the fact that you've not been able to see each other much recently and he just really missed you, some combination of the two, or something else entirely, but he's being extra gentle and sweet with you now.

he's got you on your back, head cushioned against the pillows as he trails his lips across every expanse of exposed skin as he can. the pace he's set is slow and easy going, pulling only the softest, breathiest noises from you. your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck, reveling in the warmth of his body against yours.

it's nice, truly it is. you love when your boyfriend takes his time taking you apart and putting you back together again. he does it so easily, like it's what he was born to do. it's always a welcome reminder that sex doesn't always have to be hard and rough and bruising. during sessions like this, he just makes you feel loved and appreciated, every single part of you, which is always welcome, so you have no complaints really because even just getting to have yeonjun in any way is heaven personified.

despite all of that, there's a feral, unhinged heat creeping beneath your skin that craves to be released. it's been so long since you've been together and you've had enough of taking your time; in his absense, you had to drag out your pleasure on your own, leaving you unfulfilled because you just can't fuck yourself the way yeonjun can. you just want him to have at you, to use you as he sees fit and you're going to do what you can to get him there.

using your fingers in his hair as leverage, you pull his face up to yours, kissing him and letting out little pants and moans into his mouth. "want more, junnie. please."

he shakes his head, his hair brushing against your forehead. "no, baby. wanna take my time with you tonight."

you whine loudly and exert all of your strength to get him to turn over, effectively switching positions. now, you're on top, hands pressed heavy against yeonjun's chest, shoulders heaving as you catch your breath. "want more... daddy."

yeonjun flushes as he processes what's just happened; you can practically see the gears turning in his head. his eyes narrow and his jaw flexes, the skin over it tight. he sits up and pulls you off of him.

"fine. you want more? i'll give you more," he says, his voice harsh. "turn over."

you scramble to turn and get on your hands and knees, smiling a little bit to yourself, glad your plan worked. you've incurred the wrath of yeonjun's brat taming and you've never been happier to have done so.

without warning, he thrusts into you sharply, jolting you forward and setting a brutal pace. his hand comes down on your ass and the resounding smack sends a shiver through your body. he smooths over the print for a few moments before repeating the process: spanking and soothing the skin afterwards.

"dirty little whore," he grunts, using one of his hands to grab at your waist and pull you back into him. "trying to be gentle and treat you all nice, and you don't appreciate it. wanna act like a fucking brat."

he winds his hand into your hair and yanks you up, biting at your shoulder and growling directly into your ear. he trails his hand to your throat, just letting it rest there almost like a collar. you whimper and moan and whine, trying your best to push back into his thrusts, but it's hard to keep up when he's moving so fast. you start sobbing openly, not a single thought in your head other than this feels so good and you want to come so badly.

"you close? wanna come?" he asks and it's deceivingly gentle. you know what he's thinking and where this is going; he's just trying to lure you into a false sense of security.

you know this and you fall right into it anyways. you nod, whimpering out his name.

"yeah?" he questions, paying close attention to the signs of your fast approaching release.

just when you're about to crest that wave, he pulls out and lets go of you, sending you face first into the mattress. he watches as you clench desperately around nothing, your thighs shaking at the loss of his touch and your ebbing orgasm.

"junnie," you cry, thick tears rolling down your cheeks and soaking the sheets under you.

he lands another spank, ripping a high pitched whine out of you. "you wanted more, baby. you asked for this. you completely disobeyed me and acted like a no good brat who only thinks with her pussy."

his hand comes down again, but this time, it strikes your cunt. you can hear your wetness as his fingers come in contact. you cry out again and jolt forward.

"you wanna come, you're gonna have to beg for it because honestly, i don't think you deserve to."

you try to break through the fog in your head, feeling hazy and far away from this moment. you search for the words you know he wants to hear and try to get them vocalized through your hiccups and sobs, still trying to come down from the orgasm that wasn't fulfilled.

"please, junnie," you cry, trying to look back at him. "wanna come so bad for you. missed you so much. please, i'll be good. i promise."

you keep babbling about how much you missed him and his cock, how nothing makes you feel as good as he does, how you'll be good for him if he just lets you come on his cock. you're almost too busy begging for him to at least put his dick back to notice that he's thrusted back into you. almost. you thank him for it.

the pace he sets is still fast and you're still jolting with the force of him dripping his hips into your ass, which still stings, but you welcome the pressure. you feel blissed out as he works you up again, a hand sneaking around your waist to play with your clit. his free hand pulls you back up to him, but this time, it's a little less harsh.

"did so well begging for me, baby," he says into your ear, kissing your jaw. "missed you and your cute little pussy too. you touch yourself wishing it was me?"

you nod against him, turning your head to look at him. he kisses your lips this time, sliding his tongue against your bottom lip and pulling away before it escalates.

"me too. couldn't wait to come home and fuck you as much as you'd let me."

he can feel you clenching around him again and your thighs shaking against his as his thrusts into you. he presses a hand to your tummy and the other to the shoulder farthest from him, trying to belt you against him for the high he knows you're going about to reach, the high you've been waiting for for weeks.

"you gonna come, sweet thing?" he asks, not surprised when you nod against him, staring up at him with wide, doe-like eyes. "you can come. i'll catch you."

it doesn't take much longer before you're coming undone at the seams in his arms. you go limp against him, moaning out a mix of his name and praises and thanks for letting you come. you can feel his own cum fill you up, his hips faltering once, twice, three times before they still, thoroughly fucked out, at least for now.

yeonjun, chest heaving against you, is the first to move, doing his best to keep himself seated inside you while sitting back against the headboard and pulling you with him. he presses kiss after kiss to your neck and shoulder, both of his arms around your waist.

"sorry for being a brat," you say, your head leaning against his as you finally find a steady breathing pattern.

you can feel him shake his head, his chin brushing your shoulder. "it's okay, baby. you knew what you wanted and i wasn't giving it to you. plus, i don't mind all that much when you act like a brat."

it's your turn to shake your head, letting out a laugh and leaning into his embrace, glad to have him to yourself for longer than a few hours. you stay just like that for a while, yeonjun's fingers rubbing comforting patterns into your tummy and hips, his lips kissing your skin gently, and his arms and chest keeping you tethered against him as you continue to come down.

yeonjun finally breaks the silence, kissing at your cheek this time. "want me to run you a bath?"

you shake your head again, feeling a little sleepy now that everything's catching up with you.

"you want anything? kinda wanna order pizza and watch a movie. is that okay?"

"sounds perfect," you answer, looking up at him as best you can, smiling tiredly at him.

and it does.

#yeonjun x reader #yeonjun smut #txt x reader #txt smut #kpop smut #🌙 — talking to the moon #🌕 — full moon #🌕 — txt #🌙 — 🥀

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iovchlde · 3 years

Note

hi!! may i request some reverse comfort headcanons for diluc, kaeya, childe, and xiao? maybe about relationship insecurity or something of that sort??

relationship flaws and insecurities.

no one is perfect— so what exactly are their flaws in a relationship? and what do they feel most conscious of in a relationship?

featuring diluc, kaeya, childe, xiao

diluc

he feels that he might scare you off with his overprotectiveness. he’s already lost someone before, and he doesn’t think he can handle losing you either.

it’s not that he wants to control your life— in fact, he wants you to live it to its full extent. but there’s always that small worry, an annoying voice, in the back of his head that reminds him that the wilderness of teyvat is dangerous.

subconsciously, he may find himself interrogating you if you plan on leaving the house early in the morning, or late at night. there’ll be times where small quarrels stem from this, and inevitably it can get heated sometimes.

if you walk out on him for more hours than what feels comfortable, to cool off, he might start to think if you’ve left him for good.

diluc’s sitting at the edge of the bed, and there’s a consistent tapping on the floor as he anxiously drums his foot against it. it’s way past his assigned time to sleep, knowing he has to be up early to run his business. he doesn’t have half the mind to check what time it is, at least, not right now. all he can think about is that you’ve been gone for way too long.

he expects this from the two of you, especially after a heated argument. you two take the time away from one another to cool off and collect your thoughts, but this? this is just outrageous. if he were to give an estimate for how long you’d been gone— it would be two hours longer than you’d typically be gone for. and this just feeds into his worries from earlier, about your well-being.

the whole fight was about you and your safety after all. you would tell him that you’re fully capable of looking out for yourself; he’d say that he has enemies who may come after you; it goes back-and-forth. sensing that the argument was getting nowhere, you took it upon yourself to see yourself out first. “let’s just,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “let’s just take time to cool off for a bit, shall we?”

“it’s been longer than a bit,” he mutters to himself.

he’s snapped out his thoughts as he hears the bedroom doors open slowly. you peek your head in, just to make eye contact with diluc. you two freeze, simply caught off-guard in the moment. he notes how your hair is a mess— it sticks out in certain areas, and obviously has not been brushed down— and you look a bit rugged. “hey,” you mutter sheepishly.

he wonders if he should ask you where you’ve been, but he holds his tongue. “are you okay?” diluc asks instead, and there’s a certain tenderness in his voice as he addresses you. “you look a bit... rough.”

you snort, throwing a feign hand of offense over your chest, at his words. “gee, thanks. nice to know i’m looking very appealing right now.” you joke. he stares at you, but you can see the faint smile on his lips at the way you’re joking around already. it’s good to know that you two are still okay. “but to answer your question, yes. i simply tripped over a pebble— it was so dark out and my foot got caught. who would’ve known that a pebble would be the one to take me down.”

he laughs at this, and you feel the tension from the argument completely lift.

kaeya

he’ll often wonder if you’re slowly becoming untrusting of him. he’s generally reserved, and quite mysterious— and it could easily be read in the wrong way.

kaeya knows that a relationship is all about communication and trust, well, for it to be healthy at least. and for the most part, he’s pretty open with you.

but there’s still certain aspects of his life that keeps in the dark from you. from his unknown past, to the business he does out of the knight of favonius— he likes that you look up to him as a respectable knight.

sometimes, you’ll ask him why he has duties to attend to at the dead of night, to which he reassuringly tells you that he’s simply off to bother diluc at the tavern. but he knows you’re catching on— diluc hasn’t seen him in the tavern for quite a bit.

“i know you haven’t been at the tavern.” you finally speak up, and you keep your eyes trained on the plate of food in front of you. you dig at the food, poking it around with your utensils— anything to keep your mind off of the fact that your heart is slightly racing right now. you don’t mean to be confrontational, but to be frank, you’re fed up that kaeya hasn’t been honest with you. “you can say that it came as a surprise to me when diluc said you hadn’t been there for a while now.”

“i guess it was only a matter of time before you’d ask diluc about me, and my whereabouts.” he sighs. he’s leaned into his chair by now, and he’s looking at you. your lips are locked into a tight line, a little peeved at the way he still talks so smoothly, and treats this so casually. as if he weren’t taking this seriously, and that this was just some other conversation to him. “i’m simply handling nightly duties.”

your grip becomes slightly tighter around your utensils, and he notices; your knuckles are turning slightly white, and your breathing is slightly out of pace. there’s a small change in his expression, and you can see the way his eyes narrow slightly.

“does it hurt to be honest to me about these things?” you ask him, genuinely hurt at the way it feels like he doesn’t trust you enough. “as your significant other, i guess i’d expected you to be more open to me. i’ve already told you countless times that no matter what, i’ll stick around— and even right now, i mean those words.”

once i tell, there’s no going back, is what he wishes to say. that it’ll be hard to look at someone the same way you’ve done before. “look,” he says as he sighs. kaeya wracks his mind for a way to respond— in a way where he wouldn’t be lying, but he wouldn’t subject you to danger either. “these matters, my nightly duties if you will, are matters between the abyss order and i. i’m afraid that if i tell you anything more about what goes on, you’ll become a target as well. too much knowledge can be harmful.”

“and you couldn’t just tell me that from the get-go?” it’s a fair point, and he throws you an apologetic look from across the table. “i understand, okay? just,” you swipe a hand through your hair. “no more secrets. i don’t think i’ll be as understanding if there’s a next time.”

“of course, my love.”

childe

he fears that one day, he’ll come home and you won’t be there anymore; his involvement with the fatui doesn’t make it any better.

the fatui is known for... it’s notorious deeds, to put it lightly. he had warned you beforehand, that dating a fatui harbinger will be exhausting. mentally, that is.

he’s bloodthirsty and thrill-seeking— it’s his nature. but he knows you don’t agree with the brutal ways the fatui handles their business, and he tries his best to take your mind off of it.

but it’s hard to ignore the words that circulate around liyue about certain things that he’s been up to. childe wonders that if you’ll get fed up one day, and just leave him.

there’s always a small amount of anxiety that bubbles up within childe whenever he approaches the doors of your shared bedroom. there’s that slightly irrational fear that he’ll walk in, and the room will be empty; you won’t be beneath the sheets in deep sleep, and your small breaths wouldn’t fill the room. his hand is hovering over the doorknob, and he almost laughs. a man like him, who stares death in its eyes, too afraid to open the door in fear that he’ll see something he doesn’t like.

childe gathers the courage to twist the knob, and the door creaks softly as he pushes it open. he pauses halfway, the fear taking over him for a second, but pushes through. he lets out an audible breath of relief— seeing you alive and well in front of him, and the comforts of just seeing that. his shoulders slack visibly at the confirmation, and he allows himself to enter the room.

he strips himself of clothes that he’s worn outside, changing into ones more fitting for bed. he’d jump straight into your arms if he could— but he knows that even in a sleepy state, you would still scold him.

he stalks towards the bed after doing the necessities. you stir at the way the bed dips beside you, feeling a pair of strong arms wrap around you. “childe?” you mutter. your voice is laced with sleepiness having just awoken, and you’re rubbing at your eyes as you turn to face him. it takes a second for your brain to start functioning, and you blurt out the first word that comes to mind. “hi.”

“hi to you too,” he mirrors, a small smile gracing his lips. your eyes are barely open as you glance at him, and your words are slightly slurred— but despite that, he truly thinks he’s the luckiest man in the world that he has someone as good as you. someone who sticks around, despite his affiliation. “i’ve missed you a lot, y’know.” he says.

“i missed you more,” you challenge, even in your sleep driven state.

he chuckles at you, before pressing a small kiss to your nose. “sure, sure. let’s fight about who misses each other more in the morning, okay?”

xiao

he’ll often doubt why you’re with him— and wonder if there’ll ever be a day where you run out of patience with him.

he’s getting better with affection, and he’s not finding it as weird as he had before. he doesn’t initiate things, still too embarrassed about the last time he failed to hug you. he wants things to be intimate, but there are still times where he flinches if you touch his hand or hug him, after forgetting to give him a heads up.

you always smile at him, and tell him that you care for his comfort the most. he can see the pain behind your smile though— almost a year of dating and he still hasn’t warmed up to you.

xiao still doesn’t fully understand the logic and need behind affection. but what he does know is that humans seek affection. they are social beings after all. knowing that, he worries that you’ll eventually want someone else who can give you the affection that you deserve.

“i’m sorry,” xiao apologizes in a panic. he was so thrown off-guard and so deep in his thought, that when you’d given him a back hug, he had reacted more violently than intended. thus, he had instinctively pushed you off his shoulder. it was hard to miss the flash of hurt in your eyes as you stumbled back, a little baffled, not expecting xiao to react in a such a way. “i... i apologize for that, y/n.”

it’s easy to notice the literal distance between you two and he reaches out for you, to which he stops himself midway. there’s just something that feels so wrong about touching you right now, especially after he’d just shoved you— it doesn’t feel right. even to now, he’s still scared of touching you. he finds himself getting frustrated at the way that he just can’t wrap his head around doing things in a romantic aspect. even he’s running out of patience with himself, so why do you still have so much?

you notice the way his hand stops, and you can see the countless of emotions within his eyes as he stares at his hands. there’s little glimpses of worry, of self-doubt, and you can tell right now that he’s being critical of himself. you don’t blame him for reacting that way, now that you look back on it in hindsight. anyone would’ve reacted like that as a form of self-defense.

“it’s alright, xiao, it really is.” you reassure him. “don’t be too harsh on yourself, okay? i said we’d take it as slow as we have to, and i plan on keeping my word for that. now... may i?” you gesture to his outstretched hand. he gives you a blank look at first, but nods slowly.

you take his hands in yours— you take your time to link your fingers, intertwining them and appreciating the way they mold together perfectly. you let him feel the way you draw soothing circles on the back of his hand. it’s such a simple action, but it flows with intimacy, and it has a weird feeling erupting in his stomach. (butterflies, he recalls you telling him.)

“see this?” you raise your linked hands. “if this is what you’re comfortable with at the moment, then i’m more than willing to hold hands for as long as you want.”

he wonders if you’ll grow impatient with him— but for now, he’s reassured you’ll stick around.

author’s note.

i’ve put this off for so long, and i intended on keeping it short— but then i felt bad and so i decided to indulge just a little

#genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact angst #genshin diluc #genshin xiao #genshin kaeya #genshin childe #kaeya x reader #childe x reader #diluc x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact x reader

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criminalmindzjunkie · 3 years

Text

Love Sick

Masterlist

Summary: A story about how Spencer’s worst decision ever somehow ends up being his best.

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day, my loves! This fic is loosely based on a request I got about Spencer faking an illness to keep the reader from going on a date.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: swearing

Word Count: 4k

Spencer has done a terrible, awful thing.

He wants to argue that he doesn’t know what came over him, but that would be untrue and he’s already met today’s quota on little white lies. Spencer knows exactly what possessed him to call you up at seven thirty on a Saturday night, and it wasn’t so that the two of you could discuss the weather or the recent upward trend in the stock market. Spencer’s spontaneous (panicked) phone call to you was a brazen attempt to abate the green-eyed monster that had been whispering dreadful things in his ear for the better part of a week.

To put it simply; Spencer is jealous, and he’s dealing with it rather poorly.

So poorly that he’s resorted to sabotage.

As he sits on his couch and worries at a hole in the bottom of his designated lounging sweatshirt, Spencer attempts to justify his actions. His tiny fib won’t hurt anyone . . . except, perhaps, one annoyingly perfect and stupidly handsome veterinarian. But Spencer can live with that. Potentially scorning an animal care specialist isn’t the thing that has his stomach in knots. That, he can live with. Spencer doesn’t even have pets, so there’s no longterm consequences as far as the vet is concerned. The notion of lying to you, on the other hand?

Spencer is positively sick with nerves.

He’s not sure why. Spencer’s gotten rather good at lying to you. Several months of pining for you from across the hallway of your shared apartment complex has turned him into quite the master of deceit, after all. He was a sucker from the moment he opened his door and lay his eyes on you, arms outstretched and wielding a plate of homemade sweets. The cookies were lovely, but the breathtaking smile on your face is what really did him in.

Since that first day, Spencer’s gone out of his way to ensure that he’s on the receiving end of that smile as often as possible. His efforts are never in vain; for reasons unbeknownst to him, you seem to enjoy spending time with him just as much as he did you. This mutual fondness results in most of Spencer’s off days being spent in your company. Spencer was certain that, with time, he would work up the nerve to ask you out on a date. He’s halfway to convincing himself that you might even say yes when your cat makes the unfortunate decision to steal a brownie from your plate and gulp the whole thing down.

Enter, aforementioned veterinarian.

The sound of your door opening from across the hall has Spencer breaking out into a cold sweat. His hand is halfway to his forehead, ready to wipe away the perspiration when he pauses. His body’s anxious reaction might just help him sell his story. Yes, Spencer thinks, this is a good thing. Authenticity, and all that.

Several soft footsteps are muffled by the door that separates him from you, and then his doorknob jiggles as you struggle to fit your key into the lock. A jolt of adrenaline surges through Spencer and in the blink of an eye he’s on his feet and sprinting to his bathroom in the name of authenticity. If he wants to keep up this ridiculous façade, and he really, really does, Spencer is prepared to fake it until he makes it. The alternative is far too mortifying. Failure is not an option.

Spencer cringes when he lifts his eyes to meet his reflection. He’s been told more than once that he’s an absolutely terrible liar, and the wide, guilty eyes that stare back at him confirm this. All it will take is one look at him and you’ll know something’s amiss. Perhaps it isn’t too late for Spencer to come clean. It would be embarrassing, yeah, but no less embarrassing than it would be an hour from now when you call him on his shit. But then again, there is always the possibility that you will get angry with him and leave, and Spencer isn’t willing to risk you walking away from him. Not tonight.

Spencer barely has the time to splash some cold water on his face and dive to the bathroom floor before you’re pushing open the door to his apartment and calling out his name. His brain, the part that isn’t rendered useless in his panicked state, reminds him of just how many germs can be found on the average bathroom floor. It’s enough to make him pause, but only for a moment. He takes a deep breath before slumping over against the toilet.

Showtime.

“M’ in here,” Spencer calls out in his croakiest voice. It comes out exactly as he intended, all rough and pitiful. Maybe he can pull this off, after all.

The soft pitter patter of your bare feet makes his heart rate increase exponentially. Spencer steels himself, recites a reassuring mantra in his head. I can do this; I can do this.

Spencer’s poor, overworked heart gets a much-needed rest when you step into the doorway. In fact, he’s almost certain it stops completely at the sight of you in a tiny red dress. A tiny red dress that leaves very little to the imagination. Spencer can’t even see past his mounting panic to enjoy the way you look. That damn red dress serves as a brutal reminder of why he’s sitting in his bathroom floor, clutching his toilet bowl and damn near drowning in a nervous sweat.

The thing is, Spencer hadn’t intended on sabotaging your date with the vet. He had every intention of staying in, wallowing in his sorrows and waiting up for you. Spencer even said this to Derek, who was kind enough to call him and remind him of how big of a jackass he was. Spencer didn’t need the reminder. He was well aware.

But then Derek said something that made Spencer’s blood run cold.

“And what exactly do you plan to do if she doesn’t come home?”

So, really, it’s Derek’s fault that Spencer promptly ended the call and dialed your number. It’s also Derek’s fault that Spencer is about to give the most convincing performance of his entire fucking life.

“I’m sorry I called you, but I didn’t know what else to do. I just feel so awful.” And he does feel awful, just not in the way you think.

You’re quick to close the distance between the two of you, dropping to your knees and brushing stray pieces of hair away from Spencer’s clammy forehead. His skin sings where your hand grazes it. If he didn’t have a fever before, he will if you don’t stop touching him.

“Don’t ever apologize, Spence. I wish you’d have called me sooner,” you murmur. Warm, concerned eyes drag across Spencer’s bedraggled appearance. “How long have you been feeling sick?”

Spencer gulps. “A few hours, I guess. I ate my leftovers from last night for lunch. Maybe that’s what’s wrong.”Lies, lies, lies!

Your brow furrows. “That’s strange. I ate mine, too, and I feel fine.”

Spencer doesn’t really have an argument for that, so he fakes a pained groan and rests his head against his arm. He closes his eyes and prays the intro to theater class he took in high school will pay off.

You must deem his act convincing enough because you press a soft kiss to the top of his hair and stand. Spencer hears the sound of a cabinet opening, followed by the sound of running water.

The tender touch of your hand on his shoulder has him raising his head and looking up at you, inquisitive. You place a cold washrag to his forehead, and Spencer melts into the touch. It feels heavenly against his hot skin.

“Do you think you could manage to take a shower?” you prompt, earning a feeble nod from Spencer. He doesn’t even have to fake the way he trembles as you run the damp cloth down his neck. “I think I have some broccoli and cheddar soup at my apartment. I’ll go change and grab it while you shower.”

Elation spreads through Spencer, pouring from his heart until it reaches the very tips of his extremities. He can’t believe his scheme hasn’t blown up in his face already.

With the help of your outstretched hand, Spencer rises to his feet and braces himself against the shower door. You make no move to remove your hand from his, and that gives him the courage to ask his next question.

“What about your date?”

You shrug and an easy smile spreads across your face. Spencer feels faint. He blames it on his imaginary illness.

“Don’t worry about that. The only thing I’m concerned with right now is taking care of you.”

Spencer bites down hard on the flesh of his cheek to keep a smug grin at bay. This is a victory he’ll have to celebrate at a later date.

Spencer enters his living room, freshly showered and donned in clean pajamas, to the sound of your voice speaking quietly into your cellphone. He halts just before he enters his kitchen, straining to catch a snippet of your conversation. As he leans closer to the sound of your voice, Spencer halfheartedly chastises himself. First, he deceives you, now he’s resorting to eavesdropping. Rock, meet bottom.

He’s just about to wrench himself away and retreat to the couch, when:

“I really am sorry about cancelling, especially on such short notice.” A short stretch of silence follows. “Next Saturday? Oh. Um, yeah, I’ll let you know, okay?”

Spencer is very much like a popped balloon; the earlier feelings of elation leave him in a harsh gust. Next Saturday? He barely managed to derail this Saturday’s date! No way he could get away with it a second time.

In the midst of his inner turmoil, Spencer misses you exchanging goodbyes with the vet before collecting Spencer’s bowl of soup. He’s still standing there, absolutely crestfallen, when you round the corner. You nearly collide with his chest, narrowly avoiding it by skidding to a halt in front of him. Your eyes run up his frame, assessing him, until they rest on his face.

“You scared me, Spence,” you chuckle. You cock your head to the side. Spencer imagines his expression is none dissimilar to that of a disgruntled frog. “You feeling okay? You’re not going to puke again, are you?”

Honestly, he might. The idea of you rescheduling your date with the vet is about as vomit inducing as it gets.

“I’m fine,” Spencer says on an exhale. Funnily, it’s probably the biggest lie he’s told all day. “The shower helped.”

His delivery is flat, but you don’t seem to mind. You smile up at him, relieved, and Spencer’s chest aches.

“I was thinking you and I could watch a movie?” you offer, and Spencer nods his assent. He can’t fathom turning you down. Not when you’re wearing an old sweatshirt you stole from his closet and a pair of fuzzy socks with little hearts on them. The ache intensifies.

“What are we watching?”

You plop down on the couch and look at him expectantly. He follows in suit, settling in beside you.

“I was thinking that you could choose,” you murmur as you place the bowl in his hands. Spencer shoots a teasing smile your way as he raises the spoon to his mouth.

“You mean, you’re actually going to let me pick the movie? I should get sick more often.”

His cheek earns him an exaggerated roll of your eyes.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mutter. “You always pick the movie.”

He can count on one hand the amount of times he’s gotten to pick the movie.

Spencer is about to launch into an impassioned rebuttal when the feeling of your fingers scratching against his scalp renders him speechless. His eyes dart to your face as you concentrate on scrolling through the TV guide, seemingly unaware of the effect the simple act has on him. Meanwhile, Spencer’s brain is short-circuiting.

You begin to read off a list of potential movies to him, but Spencer barely hears you. He’s practically purring as you twirl his curls around lithe fingers, his eyes threatening to flutter closed as an intense feeling of euphoria washes over him. Maybe it’s because he’s touch starved, or maybe it’s because it’s been so long since someone just looked after him. Whatever it is, Spencer embraces it wholeheartedly.

“-heard it’s pretty good. So, what do you say, Spence?”

Spencer pulls himself back to the present, blinking lazily at you. You’re looking at him, expectant, and Spencer’s eyes flit to the TV. His eyes skim its contents, reading briefly about a movie in which some family moves into a haunted house.

His face breaks out into a grin and he nods, because Spencer’s known you long enough to recognize that watching a horror movie usually results in you pressed tightly to his side and clinging to his hand. He also knows that nine times out of ten, you choose to watch a horror movie over anything else. No wonder he always lets you choose.

And sure enough, not even ten minutes in, Spencer is ditching his bowl of soup and pulling you into his arms. Once you’ve draped a blanket around the two of you settled in, you glance up at him.

“How are you feeling, Spence?”

Spencer responds by saying that he’s suddenly feeling much better.

Spencer Reid - 1, Veterinarian – 0

Spencer’s not sure at which point he fell asleep. All he knows is that he certainly does not remember sprawling out across your body, nor does he remember tucking his head into the crook of your neck. But this is how he finds himself when the sun begins to pour in through his windows the next morning, and Spencer can’t bring himself to care about how he came to be there.

Spencer guesstimates that it’s no later than seven in the morning. You’re still fast asleep underneath him, your chest rising and falling rhythmically with every breath. It’s early, and it’s Sunday, and Spencer can’t think of a single reason to wake you. Instead, he snuggles in closer, because he’d be a fool not to enjoy this while it lasts.

Unfortunately, the shrill sound of Spencer’s ringing phone shatters the serenity. He prays that it won’t disturb you, that you’ll remain oblivious and continue to sleep, but that hope is shattered when you begin to shift underneath him. Spencer makes quick work of peeling himself off of you before dashing to his kitchen and snatching his phone off the table.

He’s prepared to verbally assault whoever has the audacity to defile the sanctity of lazy Sunday mornings when a quick peek into the living room finds you still fast asleep on his sofa. He smiles, soft and fond, before pressing the accept button and bringing the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“I was beginning to wonder if you were still alive.” Spencer’s smile transforms into a grimace. Apparently, Derek Morgan doesn’t believe in lie-ins. “I was preparing myself for a rescue mission.”

“It’s seven in the morning. I was asleep.”

Derek lets out a low whistle. “Who pissed in your Cheerios, Pretty Boy?”

“You, when you decided that it was acceptable to ring me before eight,” Spencer whisper shouts. He knows that he’s being touchy, to say the least, but who can blame him? Five minutes ago, he was cuddling with the most beautiful girl he’s ever had the privilege to lay eyes on. Now, he’s shooting the breeze with a colleague. Obviously, Spencer would prefer the former to the latter.

“Jesus, kid. I’m going to take a wild guess and say that girl of yours didn’t make it home, after all. You okay?”

The guilty feeling returns and Spencer cringes. “Uh, define ‘okay.’”

Derek curses on the other end of the line. “I’m sorry, kid. Try not to beat yourself up about it, okay? There’s plenty of fish in the sea, you’ve just gotta put yourself out there. How’s this; you and me will go out next weekend and bar hop. I’ll teach you some Derek Morgan tricks of the trade. Soon enough, you’ll have forgotten all about her.”

“I don’t know, that might be hard.” Spencer scratches the back of his neck. “She’s asleep on my couch right now.”

A long stretch of silence comes from the other end of the line, and Spencer thinks for a moment that the call dropped. Unfortunately, he isn’t that lucky. A booming laugh erupts from the speaker and makes him jump out of his skin.

“My man!” Derek laughs, incredulous. “I didn’t think you had it in you, I’ll be honest.”

“It’s not what you think-”

“How did you manage that? Did the Good Doctor make a grand romantic gesture? Damn, I really hate that I missed that.”

“No, there were no gestures. And it’s not-”

Derek cuts him off. Again. “How’d she take the news? I’m assuming she took it well, if she stayed the night.”

“I didn’t tell her anything!” Spencer spits out, frustrated. “I… I told her I was sick. She came over to take care of me, and we fell asleep on the couch.”

Spencer’s proclamation is met with another long silence.

“So, you sabotaged the date?”

Spencer winces. “I did not sabotage it. I just… manipulated the situation a little.”

“Oh, you certainly did,” Derek chuckles. “How did you pull that off? I’ve seen you try to lie. That shit is laughable.”

Spencer opens his mouth to defend himself, but the pitter patter of socked feet approaching him from behind has his mouth running dry.

“Yeah, Spencer. How did you pull that off?”

Spencer had been correct in his earlier assumptions. The inevitable moment in which you called him out on his shit has arrived, and it’s every bit as mortifying as he expected. So mortifying that he can practically feel the blood drain from his face. And the thing is that he knows he deserves whatever you’re about to throw his way… it’s just that the thought of you being angry with him kind of makes him want to cry. And that would only add to the mortification.

He turns around slowly, his body rigid, until he’s met with the adorably rumpled vision of you with your arms crossed and your hair sticking up in all directions.

Spencer’s never seen anything quite so mesmerizing, and it hurts because he knows he’s ruined everything. He’ll never get to watch another scary movie with you tucked neatly against his side, or wake up in your arms again. He’ll never get to kiss you.

And the worst of all; Spencer will never get to tell you how he really feels. It’s a crying shame, because he thinks he could have been really good at loving you.

“Hey, Derek, I gotta go.”

Spencer presses the end call button and immerses himself in what has to be the most awkward stand-off of all time. You stand there, arms crossed, head cocked to the side with one hip jutted out. Spencer isn’t sure how you manage to look intimidating and endearing at the same time. He supposes the fuzzy socks are to blame.

Minutes pass, but they feel like hours. Spencer is approximately three seconds away from dropping to his knees and groveling when you finally speak.

“You sabotaged my date.”

Spencer lets out a strangled laugh. Perhaps humor is the way to go? It couldn’t hurt to try. In his opinion, the situation couldn’t possibly get any worse. “I think sabotage is a strong word. I prefer the term obstruct.”

You let loose a laugh of your own, but this one holds no humor. “And I prefer keeping the company of people who don’t lie to me.” Okay, maybe it can get worse.

Spencer visibly deflates. It was a stupid idea. He’s never been a funny guy.

“I am so, so, so incredibly sorry.” Sorry for lying to you, that is. Spencer isn’t in the least bit apologetic for ruining your date. Given the chance, he’d do it again - in a more tactful way, of course. Preferably, in such a way that didn’t involve him laying in his bathroom floor.

Spencer attempts to take a step forward, only to be rooted to the spot when you fix him with a look. He’s not funny but he is smart – smart enough to know better than to push it.

“Why did you do it?”

Spencer was really hoping you wouldn’t ask that.

“I-I…”

Apparently, an eidetic memory doesn’t stand a chance when it comes to confrontations involving pretty girls. One quirk of an immaculately plucked eyebrow and Spencer loses the ability to recall a single word of the English language. It’s tragic, really.

“Spit it out, Spencer.”

“I didn’t want you to go on the date.” It’s like ripping off a band aid, the way the words tumble from his lips. It’s painless at first, but then the sting sets in when he realizes what he’s done.

Your lack of reaction doesn’t help. Your face remains passive, as if he didn’t just offer himself to you on a silver platter. Spencer squirms uncomfortably.

“Why didn’t you want me to go on the date?”

God, this is excruciating. You’re clearly out for blood, and the twinkle in your eye shows just how much you’re enjoying this. Spencer would have never taken you for a sadist.

“Because…” Spencer trails off and allows his eyes to drift closed. If he’s going to do this, he’s going to do it his way. With his eyes closed, because he can’t bear the thought of looking you in the eye when you reject him. “B-Because I like you. A lot.”

Spencer hasn’t had a lot of practice at being wrong. In fact, he’s spent the majority of his life being right. It seems the universe is making up for that now, because he can’t seem to get a single goddamn thing right today.

You laugh at him. You actually laugh in his face. Mortified doesn’t even begin to cover it.

“You like me.” It isn’t a question.

Spencer keeps his eyes shut tight.

“Y-Yeah.”

You know how they say if you take away one of a person’s senses, all of the others are heightened? Spencer couldn’t disagree more. In the midst of his despair, he’s completely unaware that you’ve crossed the room and are now standing directly in front of him until you speak again.

“Well, that’s rather unfortunate,” you sigh. Spencer inhales a sharp breath when he realizes you’re close enough to touch. Still, he keeps his eyes closed.

“Uh, why is that?”

Spencer nearly jumps out of his skin when your hand reaches up and caresses the side of his jaw.

“Because, Spencer,” you murmur, silky and sweet. “I was hoping you just might love me.”

Spencer’s eyes fly open and he’s greeted by a lazy, contented smile. It’s similar to the one that greeted him when he opened his front door on that very first day, but it’s better somehow. Later reflection will determine that it’s better because it’s the kind of smile reserved just for him. And that’s all he’s ever wanted, really.

“W-What?”

“You heard me.” You tilt your head up and rest your palm on Spencer’s chest. His heartbeat is erratic, thundering hard against his ribcage. He’d surely be embarrassed if he wasn’t about to faint from shock. “Do you love me, Spencer Reid?”

Spencer doesn’t even have to think twice.

“More than anything.”

“Good.” Your thumb brushes across the apple of his cheek, eliciting a full body shudder. “I was beginning to think you would never catch up.”

Spencer must be hallucinating. That, or this is all a dream and any second now his alarm is going to go off. He subtly pinches himself on the thigh to test the theory. You can imagine his surprise when nothing changes. He doesn’t wake up in a pile of his own drool, and now the skin on his thigh stings.

“You . . . You like me, too?”

You shake your head. “No, Spencer. I love you, too. Why do you think I bake you cookies and spend all of my free time in your apartment?”

“Because my couch is better than yours?” Spencer deadpans.

“I mean, that certainly doesn’t hurt. But it’s not the only reason.”

“What about the vet?” It must be his guilty conscious talking, because Spencer cannot conjure up any other reason he has for asking such a moronic question. He, personally, could not care less about the vet. Full offense intended.

“Cameron is a nice guy, sure,” you trail off. Spencer doesn’t miss the way your eyes drift down to his lips before returning to his eyes. “But he’s not really my type.”

“And what is your type, exactly?” A giddy grin finds its way to Spencer’s face. He’s notorious for being chronically clueless, but even the master of imperception himself can see where this is going.

You snort, and it’s adorable. “Liars, apparently.”

It’s impossible to determine who moves first, but that doesn’t really matter. What does matter is the end result of Spencer’s lips colliding with yours. It’s earth-shatteringly lovely; slow and sweet and tentative. There’s no rushing, no frantic fumbling of hands. Just the reverent drag of your lips against his, warm and intoxicating.

Spencer eventually regains the use of his limbs and when he does, he’s snaking one arm around your waist as the other entangles itself in your wonderfully unruly hair.

You sigh a happy sigh against his lips and Spencer’s heart soars. In a completely unforeseen turn of events, the possibility of more lazy Sunday mornings is now back on the table. Thank God he’s better at lying than he gave himself credit for.

God, and Derek Morgan’s meddling ass.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer x reader #spencer reid fluff

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separatist-apologist · 3 years

Note

I can see Eris telling embarrassing stories about Lucien to Elain and Lucien just has to sit there and take it. Do a one shot of that!

YES this is what I'm talking about.

Lucien had meant to be back sooner, honestly. Velaris was starting to grow on him, despite the brutally cold winter that seemed unending. He supposed the winter was made tolerable by the fact that his mate, sweet, kind Elain, was practically living in his apartment in the city. He hadn’t formally asked her to stay forever—though it was very much implied—and she hadn’t mentioned going back home since they’d spent the night together two months earlier. She just…quietly continued to bring things over and fold them neatly in his drawers, and Lucien acted like everything was very normal and he was not waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He would have been home before the sun set had it not been for another of Jurian and Vassa’s squabbles. He’d been roped in the middle, unable to escape despite the fact that he was very aware their fights were just foreplay, foreplay he very much did not want to be part of.

He was eager to see Elain, to see if she’d added another plant to the window or if she’d rearranged another room in his apartment to her liking or just to feel her arms around his neck, her breathless words welcoming him home with her bright, shining eyes. He slid his key into the front door, practically squirming in the cold as wind whipped his hair around his face. He heard soft voices laughing in the living room, silenced when the door closed behind him.

“Lucien?” Elain called, the sound of her footsteps echoing down the hall. She appeared, her eyes bright, cheeks stained red with laughter.

“Sorry I’m late,” he told her, hanging his cloak on a hook by the door before he pulled her against him. “Do we have company or can we go upstairs…and talk?”

She flushed at the innuendo, her fingers toying with his hair. “We do. I hope you don’t mind but—”

“Baby Lucien,” Eris crooned from the hall, arms crossed over his chest. “I stopped by to bring my sister a gift and she was so kind to offer me dinner.”

“Eris has been telling me stories about your childhood,” Elain added breathlessly, clearly somehow charmed by the eldest Vanserra. Lucien held Elain to his chest, looking over her head with narrowed eyes at the mock innocence on his brother’s face.

“Oh?”

Eris grinned wickedly. “Such a curious, lovely mate you have.”

Lucien forced himself to smile because Elain was gazing up at him with such admiration and he couldn’t bring himself to ruin her good mood.

“Eris brought me a fern from the Forest House,” Elain added breathlessly, tugging Lucien by the hand to the living room to show him her newest acquisition. She’d hung the leafy plant from the ceiling, no doubt with Eris’ help given how short she was, from one of her knitted pot holders.

“They don’t require too much sun,” Eris explained innocently. With Elain’s back turned to Lucien, he gestured wildly for Eris to get the fuck out.

“What? I didn’t understand what you said,” Eris drawled, drawing Elain’s attention back towards the pair of them. Eris promptly sat back on Lucien’s cream-colored sofa, ankle crossed over his knee, and reached for his delicate white and pink tea cup that seemed so out of place in his hands. Elain scurried to the other seat, leaving Lucien to occupy a chair across the room. She began pouring tea from her porcelain, flower etched tray, sitting neatly atop his dark wooden coffee table, clearly meant for him.

“I was telling Elain about the time you came running through the throne room in nothing but your cloak,” Eris began, amusement curling his words. “Do you remember?”

Lucien closed his eyes for a beat, trying not to remember how the courtiers laughed for years after, how they’d made veiled jokes about his penis well into adulthood.

Elain looked up, pouring cream and scooping sugar into his cup exactly as he liked it. She was an angel, he decided. He would allow Eris this memory to make her happy, but afterwards he would make up for his suffering by dragging her off to his bed and refusing to let her leave for the rest of the night…and most of the next day.

“I was six,” he reminded Eris.

“True. Tell Elain about the gang you started. What were they called, again?” Eris, the actual devil, asked. Elain turned, eyebrows raised.

“You had a gang?” She asked him with such wide-eyed optimism it took everything in his body not to slide down his chair. Lucien took the tea cup from her hands, fingers brushing her knuckles. Maybe he could flood the bond with all the sexually inappropriate things he’d like to do to her and she’d get distracted and tell Eris to shove it—

“We weren’t a gang,” he muttered, burning his mouth as he took a drink. “We just had matching jackets.”

“So you did,” Eris replied, his shoulders shaking as he tried to hold in his laughter. Eris was unmatched in this arena, considering by the time Lucien had been born, Eris had been in his thirties, a man in all the ways that counted. It certainly didn’t help that Lucien, a boy who didn’t know any better, had hero worshipped his eldest brother, giving Eris a front-row seat to the most awkward years of his life.

“I think that’s sweet,” Elain assured Lucien earnestly.

“What did you want to be when you grew up, Elain?” Eris asked, evil gleam in his eye. She thought about it for a moment, really considering his question as though it had any merit and wasn’t just another opportunity for Eris to embarrass Lucien.

“I wanted to own a little flower shop,” she told the pair of them. Eris hesitated, some emotion warring in his expression.

“Do you need a financial backer? Why haven’t you done it?” Eris demanded while Lucien chuckled from his chair. Eris might be embarrassing him, but Elain very clearly had Eris wrapped around her finger.

“Ask him for a dog,” Lucien prodded. Elain’s eyes went wide but Eris was one step ahead.

“Do you want a puppy?”

“I—”

“I’ll let you know when the next litter is born,” Eris interrupted smoothly. “And Lucien wanted to be a mommy when he a boy.”

“Really?” Elain asked breathlessly. “You want children?”

Lucien and Eris’ eyes met and Lucien couldn’t resist the smug smirk he levied at his brother. Fuck you, he knew his expression screamed. You just did me a major favor.

“Sorry I loved my mom when I was little,” Lucien told Eris smoothly while Elain stared at Lucien with bright, affectionate eyes. “And yeah, I want to be a dad. Do you want—”

“Nope,” Eris interrupted quickly, standing. “Way to ruin a fun day, Lucien. Elain, you have been lovely,” he assured her, sweeping into a deep bow. “Please keep in touch…I’m sure there are more Autumn flowers that would look stunning in your home. I’ll let you know about the puppies, too…though keep this one away from their treats. He used to eat them.

Lucien slid down the back of his chair at Eris’ words, embarrassment heating his cheeks when Elain giggled.

“Lucien…be nice to my sister.” Eris finished before striding out of the room. Elain, an immaculate hostess, followed after him to thank him for the afternoon and welcome him back whenever. Lucien wished she wasn’t so liberal with her time or their home when it came to Eris. She returned to the living room a moment later, a smile tugging on her pretty, pink lips. Lucien stood, arms extended, and pulled her into his chest.

“I don’t get why everyone dislikes him,” she said with a sweet sigh. “He’s nice.”

“He’s a menace,” Lucien disagreed. She looked up, chin pressed against his tunic.

“Maybe…but it’s pretty obvious he adores you.”

Lucien scoffed. “Adores embarrassing me, maybe.”

Elain sighed, tucking herself into his embrace. “Were you embarrassed? I thought his stories were sweet.” Perhaps Eris misjudged Elain, he thought, stroking her hair. While Eris had been trying to get a rise out of Lucien, maybe Eris had inadvertently made Lucien look better in her eyes. He couldn’t be angry about that, he decided. He’d take what he could get.

“What was the name of your gang?” She asked, interrupting his musings with a soft giggle. Lucien groaned. “The dandy-lions…because we were…we were both fierce with swords…and the ladies.”

Elain was shaking with laughter, her face pressed into his chest to muffle the sound. “That’s…no…that’s so cute. I’m not laughing at you I swear…you were…what—”

“Fifteen,” he grumbled as a new wave of laughter overtook her. It took her a moment to calm herself enough to gasp out, “That’s nice that you had friends.”

Lucien swept her up and turned towards the stairs. “What are you doing?” She asked, her words breathless for an entirely different reasons, hands clinging to his neck.

“Living up to my reputation,” he replied. Elain dissolved into a new fit of giggles even as Lucien tossed her on his bed.

“Fierce with the ladies?” She asked, reaching for a pillow to shove over her face while her shoulders shook.

“Exactly,” he agreed.

#elucien fanfic #elucien fic #elucien prompt #elain x lucien #eris vanserra #love how much of a menace eris is

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cosmicjoke · 3 years

Text

Ah, and now onto one of the most depressing chapters in all of SnK, chapter 132.

You know, if anyone ever needed a reason to despise Floch any more, how about the fact that he’s literally the reason Hange died? If this bitch ass ho hadn’t shot the fuel tank of the plane full of holes, Hange wouldn’t have had to engage with the Titans to buy time for them to fix it, and they wouldn’t have died. So, fuck you Floch. I wish you’d suffered more before Mikasa finally ended your ass.

Well, anyway, what can I say about this chapter that hasn’t already been discussed? Probably nothing, but I’ll try my best to give my observations anyway.

This really is Hange’s chapter, and Levi’s, in terms of putting a spot light on the importance of their relationship to one another.

Hange’s sacrifice in this chapter is heartbreaking, it truly is, and such a major blow to everyone. But to Levi most of all, and for so many reasons.

First of all, what stands out to me is the exchange between them, after Pieck tells Hange to stop being “gross”. What I want to talk about here is when Hange asks Levi if he thinks their dead comrades are watching, and if he thinks they’ll be proud of what they do here today. Levi tells Hange to stop talking like “him”, meaning of course Erwin. This scene is just heart-wrenching, and part of that is, I think, because of Levi’s reaction to what Hange is saying. He has, once again, such a weary, resigned looked on his face, and it’s because, I think, of the parallels he sees with Erwin. I think Levi already knows, at this point, that Hange is going to die, in some way. He recognizes the same, fatalistic bent to Hange’s mindset as he saw in Erwin, that day in Shinganshina, the same burden of guilt. Just as Erwin began to bow and break under the weight of all the lives that had been lost under his command, Hange too is beginning to break, overcome by despair and hopelessness at what they perceive to be their failures. Hange expresses this outright in the scene with Yelena, when Yelena tries forcing everyone to admit that Zeke was right, and Hange just resignedly agrees, saying that it was because of their failure to come up with a plan, because of their loss of hope, that Eren’s done what he has. Of course, this isn’t true, just like Erwin blaming himself for the deaths of all those soldiers wasn’t based in any kind of truth. But the sense of guilt is the same. Hange blames themselves for what’s happening now, and they say this in front of everyone, including Levi. And then Hange says what they do to Levi, about their dead comrades, and I think this must have been like the worst kind of deja vu to Levi, this kind of guilt driving Hange towards despair and hopelessness. He tells Hange “Don’t you start talking like him, too...” because he can’t bear it. He can’t bear to see his last, true friend succumb to the same fate as Erwin.

And then the Rumbling shows up, and Hange refuses for anyone else to engage with the Titans but themselves. They tell everyone “I’m the one who led us here. I pressed on, even at the cost of so many lives. Time to face the music.”, and it’s Hange willingly taking on the role of martyr, the same one Levi had to help Erwin to accept for himself, in order to give their comrades a chance at victory. Hange’s selflessness here is the definition of heroic. True, unwavering conviction to what they believe is right.

But once again, similarly to Levi’s final push to help Erwin become the commander everyone believed him to be, Levi recognizes for Hange, in their final moment together, what it is they need. He doesn’t try to stop Hange, doesn’t try to convince them against their chosen course of action, doesn’t cry out after them. The same way Levi recognized in Erwin the way he was being crushed under the weight of his guilt, and understood how it would be a mercy and a salvation to make for him the decision to let go of his dream and die, Levi also recognizes in Hange that same burden and suffocating sense of guilt, and knows this is a decision Hange has made for themselves, their final absolution and ownership of their past choices, and that this is the thing Hange needs to relieve them of their burden. A way for them to bear the burden of their past choices without regret. Hange implores Levi to let them walk away and do this, and Levi does, because he understands, the same as he understood with Erwin.

But we finally see in full view the consequences for Levi in making these decisions, in letting his two, closest friends go to their deaths for the sake of their cause. Levi’s expression in the following three panels is one of such unfathomable heartbreak. He looks like a man utterly resigned to losing every good thing in his life, conscious and accepting of life’s bitter injustice and the grief of loss, but no less affected by it. Levi is in so much obvious pain here. Not physical (though obviously there’s that), but emotional and mental. Hange is it for him. They’re his last, real connection, his last, true friend, his last person. And he has to let them go here. Both for the sake of humanity, and for Hange’s own sake as well. It truly is the bitterest pill to swallow. And once again, it is a desperately heartbreaking display of Levi’s own selflessness, that he lets Hange go, that he lets Hange do this thing that needs to be done, without complaint, without protest, without influence from his own feelings, sacrificing once more what would be best for him for the sake of everyone else. Levi looks devastated as he lays his fist against Hange’s chest and tells them “dedicate your heart”. This final acceptance of his own, tragic loss, and Hange’s own choice to sacrifice their life.

And it continues when Hange flies away, at last, and we see Levi standing with the rest of their group. Everyone around Levi has expressions of shock, dismay, and disbelief. They haven’t yet accepted that this is happening, that Hange is flying to their death to buy them the time they need. They look astonished and horrified. But Levi is the lone exception. He doesn’t look shocked, or disbelieving, but only continues to carry that same expression of weary, despairing resignation and acceptance. And I think what we see in Levi, in this final arc is, in many ways, the culmination of a lifetime of loss and grief. Levi’s lost more than probably any other character in SnK. He’s experienced the most extreme forms of poverty and depravation from the time he was born, and with the death of Hange, has now lost every, single person that he ever formed any kind of close bond with. With Hange’s death, Levi is left finally, completely alone. And the look of defeat on Levi’s face throughout this entire arc is, I think, reflective of the affirmation he must feel, of the cruelty and injustice of life’s indifference to the suffering of everyone. Every experience in Levi’s life has driven home to him the lesson, again and again, of the unfairness and cruelty of existing in this world. And the events of this final arc, Eren’s betrayal, Zeke’s manipulations and cruelties, the deaths of so many comrades, the Rumbling, violence and destruction and allies turning against one another, and finally, Hange’s death, can only solidify for him the hopeless cynicism he’s fought against all his life, the awful comprehension of life’s brutality. With Hange’s death, Levi is made to face once more what he’s always, deep down, known, which is that to exist in this world is to suffer with no purpose.

And yet, still, Levi fights on. He accepts Hange’s death with all the pain the loss crushes him down with. He tells Hange goodbye, and asks them to “Just watch us.”. Because even with the affirmation of all of Levi’s greatest despairs, he still finds a reason to make the fight worth it. To realize the dream they all fought for, the salvation and future of humanity, and through the realization of that dream, to give meaning and importance to the lives of all those who have died in that dreams name, and meaning and importance to the lives of those yet still there. Levi refuses, still, to give up, refuses to accept the futility and insignificance of people’s lives, even as he’s so ruthlessly reminded again and again of it. And it’s in Hange, I think, that Levi finds that strength. Because Hange also refused to give up. Like they told Floch as he bled out, “We still can’t give up. Even if we fail here, now, maybe someday...” Maybe someday, life really will get better. Maybe someday, people won’t have to suffer so much. Maybe someday, there really will be a point to all of it. Even in the face of total despair, Hange and Levi both found reasons to keep fighting.

Also, just some smaller observations about Levi’s physical state, and what it also says about his determination to not give up, but also about his perception of himself.

Levi is doing BAD here. I didn’t notice this on my first read through, but when they’re all gearing up with their ODM gear, Levi is the only one sitting down on a crate, while everyone else is standing. We see earlier in the chapter, when he leaves his room on the boat, he can’t even stand without the support of a handrail on the upper deck, or Armin’s arm around his shoulders. And then when we see him testing his grip on the handle of his ODM’s blade, his hand is visibly shaking. Levi’s physically too weak to stand on his own at this point, too weak to even hold his blades steady. He must be in absolutely horrific pain. Probably dizzy and lightheaded, probably nauseas even. He’s FAILING physically. On the verge, it seems, of collapse. The fact that he’s even up and making the effort to move is something of a miracle, let alone that he’s prepared to engage in intense, physical combat, which just a short time later, he DOES. That’s remarkable, and such a testament to Levi’s incredible will and unwavering conviction to fight for humanity. He’s dying. I think literally, he’s extremely close to death, genuinely frail. But he still is ready and willing to give his all. I think, over the course of the few chapters before this one, it must have been horrifically hard for Levi to sit by and watch as everyone else risked their lives to fight. This isn’t something Levi is used to, being helpless and unable to fight for others. He isn’t used to letting others take the risk while he stays back. When Levi comes out of his cabin and Armin tries to convince him to go back to bed, Levi snaps with impatience that if he keeps resting, they’re all going to forget he even exists. This reveals a lot about Levi’s perception of himself as someone who needs to make himself useful in order to matter. As a tool to utilize. He feels useless and like dead weight if he isn’t able to fight, and so, even on deaths door, he pushes himself to do just that, to become a weapon to be used in the coming battle. It’s heartbreaking, to see Levi regard himself this way, even as it proves his incredible devotion and heart. Once again, his own well being takes a backseat to the cause of others. His health is secondary, in his mind. For someone who always shows so much compassion and kindness and understanding for others, it makes it doubly heartbreaking, to see that Levi can’t manage the same compassion for himself, can’t give himself a break, or a pass for his weakness. That he can’t allow himself that vulnerability, or for others to fight for him, even as all his life, he’s done nothing but fight for others.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #Levi Ackerman #hange zöe #snk 132 #meta #thoughts

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chaoticminhos · 4 years

Text

priceless

priceless; adjective; so precious that its value cannot be determined.

pairing: bang chan x reader

genre: angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, rich kid! bang chan au

warnings: none, lowkey sugar daddy channie but nothing is sexual

word count: 14.3k (oh my god)

a/n: this is a super long one, i’m sorry! i got a bit carried away

christopher bang. chris. bang chan. he was a boy with the whole world at his fingertips, diligent and hardworking. the kind of boy you could bring home and your mother would adore him. your father couldn’t dream of a better boy to date his daughter.

at least, that’s how everyone else would describe him. but you? no, to you, he was nothing but an arrogant asshole.

he flaunted the trophies and medals he won from swimming like they made him the most important man alive. he never missed a chance to point out that he was top of the class, even with being in sports. he could handle it all, such a balanced and sturdy young man, all of his teachers said.

people called him modest, but you couldn’t see it. not even a peak coming out from under the obnoxious fancy shirts he wore to school every day just to show that he had enough money to own that many different name brand clothes. your school didn’t even have a strict dress code, who the hell in their right mind would wear button up and dress pants in place of hoodies and sweats? a fucking prick who needs to prove in every way possible that he is better than everyone else, that’s who. he was mister fucking perfect and he never, not for one second, let you forget that.

you begrudgingly stepped into your first hour class and made your way to your assigned seat, groaning at the fact that in just a few minutes, the school bell would ring and you’d be forced to sit right next to chan for the whole 45 minutes the class lasted.

honestly, you thought your teacher was fucking insane for placing you and chris next to each other. and in a corner spot, no less! chris was pinned in between you and the wall, the only person other than you in direct line of contact for him being the two seated ahead of you. but that didn’t stop chan, no, he yelled over you to his friends as if you weren’t even there and it pissed you off. you’d offered to swap seats so you wouldn’t have to deal with his yelling over you, but he denied, saying that he didn’t want to get in trouble with the teacher.

“they’re assigned seats, y/n,” he’d said, “the whole point is we can’t just swap.”

students filtered in and, per usual, chan was one of the last to enter. he was almost always just on the edge of being late to the first hour, him and his friend hyunjin. they had before school swim practice and apparently it would kill their coach to let them off 10 minutes earlier so they wouldn’t be late to class. it didn’t matter though, the teacher waited for them every day. god forbid golden boys chris and hyunjin miss the first minute of class.

chan walked behind you to his seat, bumping into the back of your chair as he passed. asshole. there was plenty of room for him to get past you easily, he didn’t need to shove your chair.

the teacher began class just as chan plopped his bag onto your shared table, the straps from it falling across your notebook on your side of the table.

you brushed them off, pushing his bag further away from you. he sent you a look and threw his hands up in the air like you’d just ruined his bag.

“what’s your problem today?”

you looked up at him, breath slightly catching at his damp hair. he showed up to class like this every single day, with his hair pressed to his forehead and his shirt pressed close to his body, still damp from the pool and showering off, but that didn’t change the fact that every single day, he still took your breath away.

as much as you hated him, he was strikingly attractive. it’s a shame that people can’t have both good looks and a good personality.

you put a forced smile on your face, “same as always, bang. you.”

your argument was cut short by your teacher sending a small glare towards you, a silent order to be quiet.

that’s another thing that pissed you off. he had started the conversation, but you were always the one who got in trouble for talking. not once did the teacher scold him for talking in class, only you.

“you’ll be working with your table partners today--“

you didn’t even bother to listen to the rest, groaning and putting your head in your arms on the desk. you had requested not to always be partners with your desk mate, stating that you and chan didn’t get along that well, but your teacher insisted.

“chris is a wonderful person to be partnered with, y/n.”

and of course chan wouldn’t back you up on the request of different partners. he didn’t want to be your partner in everything, god no, but it simply wouldn’t look good for him if he complained about another student.

you looked back up when chan snapped his fingers right next to your ear, causing you to jolt up and send a glare at him. he pointed to the paper that your teacher had placed on your desk.

“we’re supposed to brainstorm together.”

“can’t we just do it separately and say we talked the questions through?”

he put a fake pout on his face, “you don’t wanna share your ideas with me?”

a grin spread across his face as your jaw clenched in frustration.

“i don’t want to interact with you, period.”

“i'm just as excited as you are--“

he was cut off by the sound of your stomach growling. you groaned, you hadn’t had time to get dinner yesterday and you couldn’t afford to buy breakfast this morning.

“someone’s hungry.”

“i didn’t have breakfast.”

“why, slept in?”

“couldn’t afford it.” you mumbled, not thinking much of your words, just letting them fall from your lips.

he laughed lightly, “couldn’t afford breakfast?”

your eyes slowly lifted from the paper to his face, casual mood from just seconds before long gone.

“not everyone was born on a pile of money, chan.”

“sorry, it was just a question.”

it wasn’t even 9 am and you already wanted to rip his head off.

“fucking forget about it, let’s just get this done so you can fuck off.”

he nodded in agreement, pressing his lips tightly together to bite back a response before reading out the first question before stating his opinions on the matter.

he didn’t bother you much more for the rest of the class period, just focusing on the work ahead of you two. he didn’t bring the breakfast issue up again, which honestly surprised you. it had obviously gotten a rise from you, you expected him to milk that for as long as possible.

you didn’t see him again until lunch, where your eyes were glued to the back of his head as you angrily went over the start of your day to your best friends.

“he fucking made fun of me for not having money.”

“he’s such a prick.” sooyeon said through a mouthful of chips, turning to show one of her friends something on her phone. she wasn’t really listening. she never did when it came to you complaining about chan.

sooyeon was your best friend along with jisung, but she has lots of friends other than the two of you. she was an easy person to be around, you understood why everyone liked her:

“i agree,” jisung said as he sat himself down next to you, “i don’t get why you’re so obsessed with him when i’m literally right here.”

you hit his arm, causing his tray to shake as he set it on the table, some of the chocolate pudding falling onto the table.

“i am not obsessed with him, jisung! it’s just hard not to think about him so much when he makes it a point to be a cock every single fucking time we interact.”

jisung ignored your reply, scooping up the pudding you caused him to spill and plopping it onto an empty place on your tray.

you moved to shove him again, but he instinctively reached his hands to your arms to stop you, coating your sleeve with the pudding that he had yet to clean off of his hand.

“jisung!” you shouted, unable to keep a smile from breaking out on your face. there was no real reason to be mad, it would wash out, but you wanted to give him a hard time for it anyway.

“you ruined my favorite sweatshirt!”

you grabbed his wrist, pressing his still dirty hand against the chest of his own hoodie, giving it a stain to match the one on your arm.

“what the fuck?” he called through a loud laugh.

“it’s payback, you dickhead.”

he wiped his hand off on a napkin before standing up and motioning for you to do the same. he packed the apple and chips from his lunch into his bag for later tossed out the rest.

“you are so lucky i have extra clothes in my gym locker.”

you followed him as he started through the cafeteria, “i’m lucky? you’re the one who got pudding on me first!”

“i don’t recall that ever happening. obviously it got on you when you were brutally attacking me.”

you hit him again, laughing as he led you out of the food court and to the gyms.

you hadn’t realized, but you’d walked right past chan and his friends as you were leaving. he observed the interaction between you and jisung and let out a nose laugh at the childishness of it.

he got up and tossed his tray. he’d heard jisung mention the locker room and it reminded him he needed to grab his math textbook from there, he’d left it there after practice that morning.

chan expected you to be in the girls locker room changing or waiting outside of the boys locker room for jisung to bring you a clean shirt, so he thought nothing of stepping into the locker room himself. what he did not expect was to be met face to face with you as you slipped one of jisungs hoodies over your head, chans eyes barely catching the bottom of your bra as you pulled the cloth down.

jisung was still shirtless, digging through his locker for a shirt that didn’t have pudding on it and didn’t smell distinctly of sweaty boy. he looked up upon hearing the door open, nodding to chan as he entered.

he didn’t acknowledge jisung, instead keeping his attention on you.

“you do know this is the boys locker room, right?”

your eyes widened in mock surprise, “really? i thought this was the music department. no wonder there’s no piano.”

he huffed as he walked past you and to his own locker where his book was sat on the bench beside it.

“why are you in here, anyway?” he continued.

“jisung is a dumbass.”

the boy in question turned to you as he slipped his own sweatshirt over his head, “you’re being quite an asshole to me considering i just gave you the one actually clean sweatshirt i had on hand.”

“maybe if you hadn’t gotten pudding on the one i was wearing i wouldn’t need to steal yours.”

chan cut in, “don’t you have your own clothes to change into?”

jisung responded for you, “she doesn’t have gym.”

chan nodded, “not surprised by that.”

he’d mumbled it, but you heard. first he’d made fun of your economic status, now he was going to take a jab at your body?

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

you took a step towards him and he put his hands up in defense, “you don’t seem like the sporty type.”

your eyes narrowed and he seemed to get what you had been thinking.

“no, oh my god! i’m not that low.”

you scoffed, “but you’re low enough to tease someone for being poor? come on jisung.”

you bundled your dirty sweatshirt into your arms and swung your bag over your shoulder before leaving the locker room with jisung hot on your trail.

when you entered your first class the next day, you were met with a plastic wrapped muffin sitting on the table of your spot.

you figured someone had forgotten it there from the day before and no one had noticed to move it. you inspected the wrapper, it was still fully sealed. deciding whoever left it there probably forgot about it and remembering you hadn’t been able to get breakfast that morning either, you unwrapped the muffin and took a bite.

and damn, muffins hit different when they’re the first thing you’ve eaten since dinner time the night before.

you were about halfway done with the tasty treat when chan found his way to his spot beside you. he was wearing a plain white button up that day. water droplets from his hair had fallen onto his shoulder and collar, making small see through patches across his collar bones. you caught yourself staring before he did, thankfully.

he pointed to the muffin in your hand, “you got yourself breakfast this morning.”

you nodded, providing no verbal response, just taking another bite of the muffin.

the bell rang and the teacher clapped to get the classes attention, stating that you’d be continuing the discussion activity you and your partner had started the day before.

you looked over to chan with wide eyes. it was supposed to take two days? the two of you had gone through most of the questions the day before.

“did we miss something?” he started, reaching across the table to drag your paper closer to him so he could see it. you sighed, he had his own sheet. it would have taken literally five seconds for him to get his own instead of hijacking yours.

“i think my brain is just too good for her assignments.” you shrugged as you took the final bite of your muffin, crumpling the wrapper in your hand.

“your brain? please,” he leaned back in his chair, turning his body towards you, “i’m obviously the powerhouse of this duo.”

you raised your eyebrows with a smile, “then what am i? the hot eye candy?”

he pretended to think for a moment, “no, i think that one's me too...”

your smile grew, the words were teasing but not in a bad way. you could not believe you were having a civil conversation with bang chan, let alone an almost friendly argument.

you tossed the rolled up muffin wrapper at him, hitting him right in the cheek. he scrunched his nose, “you’re fucking terrible.”

the words weren’t anything different from what you would expect him to say to you, but the tone was lighter than usual. almost playful. still, they seemed to snap you into reality. bang chan was not your friend.

you reached to the paper he’d taken from you and glanced at the last few questions, pointing to the next in line and reading it aloud.

“is it unethical for heinz to steal the pills for his dying wife?” (look up the heinz moral debate if you don’t know what i’m referring to)

he thought for a moment before responding.

“no.”

“why?” you prompted him to continue.

“it says he tried every ethical and legal way, he has no other choice. he doesn’t have the money to pay for the pills, stealing is the only option he has left.”

you nodded, making a slightly surprised face.

“what?”

“nothing. i just took you for the kind of person to be all, i don’t know, fuck the poor.”

you scanned his face and he looked almost offended at your remark.

“of course not, everyone deserves the same opportunities when it comes to things like this.”

the rest of the hour went the same, pleasant way. you had to keep reminding yourself every couple of minutes that he was not your friend. he was being oddly pleasant to be around that day, but he was still an arrogant prick.

you were met with another muffin on your spot the next morning. and the morning after that. and the one after that, too. and the next one, and so on. it became clear to you within the first few days that it couldn’t be a coincidence, someone was leaving muffins there for you every morning. you found it kinda weird at first, considering you couldn’t think of who could be doing it. if it was jisung or sooyeon they would just hand it to you, they wouldn’t go through the trouble of sneaking into the ethics classroom before school started to put a muffin on your spot. neither of them even got to the school in time to do that. but after a while, you just accepted it. you appreciated the little snack every morning, it gave you something to go to school for and it assured you that you’d be able to eat something, even if you were short on money.

after a while, you stopped finding it weird and started to find it cute and endearing.

jisung and sooyeon were convinced it was a secret admirer, that someone had a crush on you and didn’t know how to show it. you didn’t believe that idea, no one even knew you even existed other than the two of them and a couple other friends. still, you honestly couldn’t think of another reason.

either way, it changed your first period class from being something to dread because of the boy seated next to you into something to look forward to. that, and chris had been more bearable. he was still an obnoxious asshole and he didn’t deserve half of the positive attention he constantly had, but not every conversation with him was full of angry words and snappy remarks anymore. you were starting to realize that maybe some of the things he did weren’t really mean or annoying and it was just you finding different excuses to be mad at him, but you’d never admit that out loud.

you still didn’t call him a friend, and he didn’t call you one either. he would probably be embarrassed to call someone like you his friend. he still annoyed the living hell out of you, but you couldn’t make yourself have an undying hatred for him anymore. just a strong disliking.

but he was not your friend. he was still the same dickhead he had been the whole time you’d been in school with him. he wasn’t a nice person.

you still didn’t like him.

you seemed to repeat that to yourself quite a lot.

you smiled as you picked up the muffin from the table, you’d lost count of how many had been left for you by now. you unwrapped it and started eating, you’d stopped checking the wrappers for holes after the first few. it was silly, but you trusted whoever was leaving them for you.

hyunjin and chan walked into the room just as the bell went off. chan was laughing at something hyunjin said, his dimples showing. they’re something you’d grew to really like about him. you didn’t even know he had dimples before, he never smiled at you up until a couple weeks ago.

the teacher waited for them to reach their spots before beginning the lecture, talking for a while about something or another. you didn’t really pay attention, zoning out as you finished your muffin and tossed the wrapper at chan like you’d made a habit of doing with every wrapper you had.

it was funny, you thought. every single day, even though he complained about it, he would pick up the wrapper from wherever it landed and deliver it to the trash himself. he tried to make you do it originally, but you refused.

“you’ll be working with the same partner you’ve had all semester. i have rubrics up here if anyone wants a paper copy.”

you tuned in to the last bit of what your teacher said, catching on that she was assigning another partner project, and your partner would be the same as always- chan.

both of you pulled out your laptops and pulled up the work. neither of you complained about always being partners anymore, the same argument over and over again did no one good. plus, it’s not like he was the worst partner to have. because of his position as golden boy, he always did good on his work, assuring you that you’d have a partner that would do their share.

the project consisted of you drawing a topic from a hat the teacher passed around and finding the other group with that topic. you would be debating against that group on whatever topic you and chan had drawn.

chan let you be the one to draw from the hat and you drew ‘the morality of euthanasia (anti)’

you laughed at it, “kill the old, eat the rich.”

chan raised an eyebrow at you, laughing at your response.

“we’re supposed to be against it. don’t kill the old, no eating the rich.”

“you’re just saying that because you don’t want to be eaten.”

“oh, you got me. i don’t want to be cannibalized, how dare i.”

you were paired to debate against two boys, kim seungmin and lee felix. they were chans friends. they didn’t swim with him, but they sat with him at lunch and hung out with him a lot, you’d saw them around him enough to get that.

you spent the rest of the period doing general research on the topic. it wasn’t biased, so you were able to work with seungmin and felix on it, too. they were actually pretty fun to be around. you expected them to be stuck up and bratty like chan, but they weren’t. seungmin was really sweet and felix was super funny.

“i’m telling you, eat the rich.” felix spoke.

“that’s what i’ve been saying!” you called out, reaching your hand out to give him a high five.

“felix, you’re literally rich.” chan pointed out.

“no, channie, my parents are rich. i am simply living off of their rich people money.”

you checked the clock, realizing class would be ending in a few minutes. you packed your things back into your bag before turning to chan.

“she said we’d need to work outside of class. does the library after school work?”

he sharply inhaled, “i have practice and by the time it’s over the library will be closed. if you’re okay with waiting we can go to my house after practice?”

you were slightly taken aback by the request.

“uh, sure.”

“you can watch practice if you want, or even just sit in the pool room doing homework or playing on your phone or something and then i can give you a lift to my place.”

that solved the issue of finding a ride there and you figured he couldn’t live too far, you’d be able to walk home, so you agreed.

the last bell rang and you lifted yourself from your chair and headed to the hallway, meeting jisung and sooyeon by their lockers.

jisung raised his keys, “ready to go?”

“actually, i’m staying to work on a project with chan, i forgot to tell you.”

“you’re getting awfully close with him recently.” sooyeon teased, wiggling her eyebrows.

you would have hushed her just as you did every time she even dared to mention you and chan becoming closer, but jisung cut you off.

“here?”

“no, at his house.”

“do you have a ride there and home?”

“yeah,” you started, “he’s driving me there and i can just walk home.”

“walk?” jisung frowned, “how far away is his place from yours?”

you shrugged, “can’t be that far.”

he shook his head, “not happening. text me his address and i’ll take you home when you’re done.”

there was no point in arguing with him. he got super protective over you and sooyeon when it came to stuff like this. he said it wasn’t safe for you to walk home alone, that’s the whole reason he drove you and sooyeon home every day.

you barely had time to promise jisung you’d let him drive you home before someone was calling your name from down the hallway.

“y/n! chan said you’re watching practice?”

you looked at the source of the voice, hwang hyunjin. since when did he talk to you? or even know your name?

“yeah,” you replied, “i’m coming.”

you waved goodbye to your friends before jogging to meet hyunjin at the end of the hallway, letting him lead you to the practice rooms. you’d been in them before, you went to a fair share of sports games and meets, but it felt weird being in it with it so empty, especially alone with a boy you’d barely ever talked to. he noticed the tension.

“sorry, i’m hyunjin. chan’s been mentioning you a lot lately so i figured i should make myself present.”

“oh,” you laughed, “it’s not a big deal. we aren’t really close or anything.”

hyunjin raised his eyebrows and a smirk played at his lips, “so you’re not dating or anything like that?”

your face flushed red, “god, no. i don’t have a boyfriend.”

his smile grew, “good to know.”

your face grew even more red as the door to the locker room opened and chan stepped out.

“stop flirting with y/n and go get changed.”

hyunjin turned to him, “you seem to have forgotten that i am the captain of this team and i do not take orders from you.”

he punctuated the last word with a finger to chans chest as he passed him and entered the room to get ready for practice.

“how’d you know he was flirting?” you laughed.

“it’s all he does.”

chan stepping closer to you in his shirtless form did nothing for your blushed face. he was actually in more than he would be during meets, considering it was just a practice so he was allowed to wear swim trunks, but it was still a lot more of him, or any boy for that matter, than you were used to seeing.

to your dismay, he noticed how your eyes avoided him as he stepped closer to you.

“what, not used to shirtless boys?” he teased.

“unless it’s jisung, no.” you replied, eyes trained on the pool behind him.

he raised an eyebrow, “i thought you said you two weren’t a thing?”

“we’re not. he just has stupid high body heat and strips randomly in the middle of movie nights.”

he nodded, taking a step closer to you.

“you’re so flustered when it’s just me out here, are you gonna be able to handle the whole team?”

you stepped back, “i’ve watched swim meets before chan, it’s fine. it’s just weird because we’re alone right now.”

as if on cue, the door swung open and the boys streamed out of the locker room, hyunjin last. you didn’t really recognize anyone on the team but chan and hyunjin. they made their way to the edge of the pool and chan jogged to join them, pointing at the stands near the pool for you to sit down at.

the boys started to warm up and a small crowd of girls built up on the bleachers around you. none of them seemed to notice you until the coach entered and scanned the small crowd.

“you’re new a new addition.” he pointed out.

you were gonna reply that you were just there for the one day when chan cut in for you with a smile on his face, “i invited her, coach.”

the coach looked in between you and chan with a small smile.

“oh, you did?”

you didn’t know what it meant but his words had been laced with a teasing tone and it made yours cheeks heat up. did it matter that chan had invited you and you hadn’t just randomly showed up?

apparently it did. you got a tap on your shoulder and you turned around to face the person who did it.

“did chan really invite you specifically to watch?”

“i mean, yeah.” you began, “i’m going to his place after so he said i could just wait here.”

her eyes widened, “he invited you to his house?”

you grimaced, this was drawing more attention than you wanted, “it’s nothing like that, we have a project to work on.”

she hummed and nodded, focusing her attention back on the boys.

you thought you’d get bored during the practice and end up scrolling through your phone, but you didn’t. something about the way they moved so fluidly and easily in the water was captivating to watch. your eyes kept mostly to chan, but they drifted to hyunjin a lot, too. watching him, you understood why he was captain. he had such control of his body even under the pressure of the water, it was like it was moving according to what he willed it to.

practice ended and all of the boys jumped out of the pool and grabbed a towel, heading straight for the locker room. everyone but chan. he dried his hair off before slinging the towel around his neck and over his shoulders and walking up to where you were sitting at the bleachers. he leaned against the cold metal as he spoke to you.

“i just need to shower quick and get changed then we can go. i won’t be long.”

you nodded and gave him a soft smile. most of the girls who’d came to watch the boys swim had left already, but the few who hadn’t began whispering after seeing your and chans interaction.

you didn’t know why it was such a big deal, you were his partner for a project.

high school dynamics always confused you.

after a few minutes of mindlessly scrolling through your phone, chan pushed the door open and stepped out, calling to you to follow him out. he lead you through the school and outside to the parking lot. it didn’t take much for you to find his car, you guessed it was one of the few that looked like they cost more than you were worth. no doubt the other ones belonged to his friends.

to say you were surprised when he jogged ahead of you to open the passenger side door for you would be an understatement. he really had changed a lot from a couple weeks before. or maybe you just started seeing things differently.

he frowned slightly at your confused face as you approached the car.

“what?”

“i didn’t take you for the gentleman type.”

“how would you know? you’ve never gone out with me before.”

you shrugged, he had a point.

he slipped into the driver seat and put the key in the ignition. the startup was so quiet you wouldn’t have even known it was turned on if he hadn’t shifted gears and started to drive. you were so used to clunky old cars like the one your family had or the one jisung drove around in.

speak of the devil, your phone lit up with a message from jisung.

sungie🤢💗: at his place yet?

you: headed there now

sungie🤢💗: address ??

you: one sec

you lifted your eyes from your screen to look at chan, “hey, what’s your address?”

he looked confused, “why?”

“jisungs gonna pick me up when we’re done.”

he glanced at you before training his eyes back onto the road, “no he’s not, i’ll take you home.”

“sung already said he could.”

“i thought it was a given that i’d give you a ride home since i was the one to invite you out?”

you laughed, “since when is that an unspoken rule?”

he shrugged, “it’s just good manners.”

you leaned back into the seat, sending jisung a message than chan was giving you a ride home.

who knew bang chan even knew what good manners were.

you were right about his house not being far, he was pulling his fancy car into the fancy driveway of his fancy house within just a few minutes.

although you knew it was normal life for him, you were amazed that he could step into such a pretty house so casually. you felt like if you touched anything, it would shatter.

he slipped off his shoes at the door and you did the same, following him up a large set of stairs and into what you assumed was his bedroom.

you’d expected it to be neat, but it was the exact opposite, clothes tossed randomly on the floor and open chip bags laying around. you laughed at the condition of his room and he pouted as he hurried to try to clean up some of the mess.

“don’t make fun of me, i didn’t expect company.”

“who knew that you, bang chan, were so messy.”

“i’m a high school boy, what did you expect?”

“yeah, but you’re also the pride of the school.”

he huffed, plopping down onto his bed after deciding cleaning was no use, “i’m still just a kid.”

you sat yourself down next to him, pulling your laptop from your bag and opening it. you were immediately faced with the issue of not having wifi connection.

“chan, what’s your wifi password?”

“it’s super long,” he mumbled as he reached across your lap and took the device from your hands, “i’ll just type it for you.”

you didn’t have the time to scold him for just taking it from you, you were too busy trying to convince yourself that you did not feel butterflies in your stomach when he had gotten that close to you.

you just weren’t used to boys other than jisung being so casual around you, that’s all.

he handed your laptop back to you and rose to his feet, getting up and doing something behind you for a few seconds. you didn’t pay attention, already getting to work on research.

a few seconds later, you felt the bed dip beside you and chan was pulling his legs onto the bed and sitting with them crossed and his own laptop in his lap, his loose button up he’d worn all day now replaced with a plain black t-shirt.

your face flushed red when you realized he’d just changed his shirt with you in the room, not that it was a big deal. he was a swimmer and he was used to people seeing him shirtless, it didn’t mean anything to him, but it was still odd for you.

the two of you worked in silence for about an hour before he fell onto his back, closing his laptop and tossing it onto the bed beside him.

you let out a small laugh, “what?”

“it’s boring.” he groaned, “let’s get food.”

it didn’t take much for him to convince you to ditch schoolwork and get food instead. he led you back down the stairs and into a kitchen that you swore was bigger than your whole house, opening the fridge door and leaning down to look at its contents.

he shut the door and let out an obnoxious groan, “i don’t want any of this,” his eyes locked with your and a grin appeared on his face, “let’s go somewhere for food.”

you gave a skeptical look before a small smile took over your features, “okay.”

he walked up to his room with you and you grabbed your bag before the two of you slipped your shoes on and you hopped back into his car, him rushing ahead to open the door for you once again.

you buckled your seat belt, “where are we going?”

he shrugged, “what are you hungry for?”

“you’re the one who wanted to go out for food.”

“and now i’m asking you to choose.”

you huffed, “i don’t know, anywhere.”

he hummed and nodded his head, “the diner a couple blocks down from the school?”

you perked up at the suggestion, that was your favorite place to eat.

“oh my god, please.”

he laughed at your reaction, pulling the car from his driveway and starting the route to the small diner. as the building came into view, you wondered why chan even knew about this place. he could afford so many more fancy restaurants.

he held the door open and you stepped into the small place with a smile on your face, you hadn’t been able to come here for a while.

chris let you choose where to sit before grabbing a menu from the stack on the table and shoving it in your direction.

“get whatever you want, i’m paying.”

you tried to object, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. honestly, you didn’t fight too hard, either. it saved you from the trouble of finding the money to pay for it.

you still didn’t want to make him spend a bunch on you, so you decided to just repeat the name of whatever he ordered to make sure you didn’t get anything too expensive.

he ended up asking for a classic, just chicken strips and fries. you silently thanked him for ordering your favorite meal, repeating the same thing when the waitress asked what you wanted.

“would you like any sauce with that?”

you nodded politely, “barbecue, please.”

chan scrunched his nose and made a sound of disgust across the table, “barbecue is gross.”

you tried to hold down a smile as you glared at him, “says the one who ordered ranch! who the fuck eats ranch with chicken?”

“i do.” the waitress giggled, and you jumped. you’d kinda forgotten she was still there.

“oh, i’m sorry!”

she laughed, “it’s okay. what can i get for drinks?”

“i’ll take a chocolate shake, please.” chan answered first.

“i’ll take a chocolate shake, too.”

you folded the menu in front of you, content with your order.

“aw, come on.” chan made a sound of disapproval, “get a different flavor. if you want some chocolate, you can have some of mine.”

you felt a blush creep onto your cheeks, “um, okay, i’ll take strawberry then.”

the waitress clicked her pen shut with a smile, “i’ll have those out as soon as possible.”

you waited until she was out of earshot before speaking again.

“still think you’re fucking gross for eating chicken with ranch.”

he chuckled, pausing for a moment before responding.

“do you come here a lot?”

you shrugged, “i used to. i don’t too much now though,” you debated telling him the truth, you couldn’t afford to eat out much, but opted not to. you were still upset with him for his response the last time you mentioned your money issues.

“too busy.”

he nodded in understanding.

“what’s your favorite thing on the menu?”

you let out an unamused laugh, and it sounded a lot more harsh than you’d intended it to.

“why are you asking so many questions?”

he frowned, “just friendly conversation.”

you leaned back in your seat, “we’re not friends.”

you could have swore you saw something like hurt flash across his features before you were interrupted by the waitress setting your milkshakes in front of you.

you took a sip of your strawberry milkshake and any grumpy feelings you had for chan making you order it went out the window. it had been so long since you’d had a strawberry milkshake, or any kind other than chocolate. you always took the safe bet and got a chocolate shake, knowing you liked them, but you’d forgotten how good strawberry was.

you almost regretted snapping at chan as the two of you sat in uncomfortable silence waiting for the food to arrive. luckily, it didn’t take long, considering it was sort of late in the evening and there weren’t many other customers.

you made a gagging sound as the waitress placed a small container of ranch on chans plate.

the playful interaction seemed to give him the confidence to pick up conversation again.

“i used to come here all the time when i was little. me, hyunjin, felix, and seungmin got ice cream here practically every day in the summer.

you hummed in response, taking a bite of your food. the two of you ate in comfortable silence until both of your meals were complete. you shook your head lightly when chan motioned his chocolate shake to you, silently offering you to have a drink. you finished off your own shake with a sigh, leaning back into your seat.

“ready?” chan asked and you nodded in agreement, lifting yourself from your seat to stand.

you followed chan to the counter where he payed, leaving a generous tip for the kind waitress.

you watched as he opened the car door for you yet again and made a secret promise to yourself to beat him to it next time.

wait, next time?

you shook the thought from your head as you fastened the seatbelt across yourself.

you gave chan directions to your house and helped him find each turn along the short drive. it wasn’t far, you really could have walked home.

you couldn’t help but feel slight embarrassment as he pulled into your driveway. his car was probably worth more than your entire house.

you half expected him to make a rude comment about it, but instead he mentioned the small garden you had planted in the front yard, barely visible in the dark. it was lit up by your porch light.

“what do you plant?”

“huh? oh, flowers mostly. i might plant some tomatoes to throw at you though.”

he laughed as you stepped out of his car. he waited until your front door was shut behind you before pulling out of your driveway and making his way home, where he immediately found his bed.

he frowned when he saw two computers on it, you must have forgotten to put yours in your bag before the two of you left to get food.

he packed both of the devices into his school bag before getting ready for bed and crawling under the covers.

although he knew you’d only agreed to hang out for the project, he was glad you had. it seemed like he was finally breaking your shell of whatever you seemed to have against him.

you were digging through your book bag the next morning, muffin in hand, when chan and hyunjin strolled into the classroom, borderline late as always.

your eyes went to chan as he called your name while making his way towards you, lifting a laptop up in the air.

that’s where your laptop had disappeared to.

“you left it at mine last night.”

you thanked him as he set it in front of you, ignoring the whispers that erupted when chan announced that you’d been at his place the night before.

everyone in this class of all people should know it was just for the project.

he pulled his own out of his bag and typed in the password, getting right to work.

the class was quiet, no conversation between you and chan really happening other than when he cursed you out for throwing your muffin wrapper at him and as everyone was packing their things moments before the bell rang.

“my house again tonight to go over what we researched?”

you sharply inhaled, “i promised jisung and sooyeon i’d go to the basketball game with them.”

he shot you a skeptical look.

“i already told you i watch sports sometimes.”

“i’ve never seen you at a basketball game.”

“were you looking for me?” you teased.

he shook his head, “i’ve never seen you at swim meets either.”

you stood as the bell sounded, “i go to sports games, chan.”

he put his hands up in defense, “i never said you didn’t! just making observations.”

you hopped back into jisungs car after dropping your bag at your house, scolding sooyeon for stealing the shotgun seat while you were in your house.

the three of you had killed some time driving around in jisungs car and screaming the lyrics to whatever song came on, so the game was due to start in just about 40 minutes. you waited patiently in the like to get tickets, joking around with sooyeon and jisung to pass the time.

your turn came to purchase tickets.

“$5 a person, please.” the lady handing out tickets smiled sweetly. you assumed she was one of the players mothers.

sooyeon and jisung handed her their money as you checked your pockets for your wallet. where the fuck was it?

“y/n?” jisung questioned.

“i think i left my wallet at my house.” you said.

“i only brought enough for me.” sooyeon chimed in.

“me too.” jisung seconded.

you were getting ready to tell them to enjoy the game without you and tell minho you were sorry you couldn’t make it, that you’d just go home, when someone reached their arm around you, handing a $10 bill to the ticket lady.

“for her and me.”

you knew that voice.

“i don’t want your fucking money, chan.”

he raised an eyebrow, “sweetheart, you’ve been in my house. you know i can spare $5.”

sweetheart? where did that come from?

you huffed, allowing him to lead you out of line to give the people behind you a chance to get their tickets. sooyeon and jisung followed as you stepped into the gym and scanned the bleachers for seats.

“you actually came.” chan started again, “i thought you were just using it as an excuse not to hang out with me.”

“it’s not hanging out, it’s for school.”

“you’re saying you didn’t enjoy the diner yesterday, then?”

you gave him a light shove towards where you noticed hyunjin and felix sat down, “shut up.”

your friends followed you as you made your way up the bleachers and to the highest point, just a few feet from where chan was sat, sitting down in a big opening.

“excuse me,” jisung began, “what diner?”

you shrugged, “we got food after working for a bit, it’s not a big deal.”

“like a date?”

you slapped jisungs arm harder than you probably needed to.

“it was not a date.”

“did he pay?”

“yeah?”

he turned to sooyeon, lowering his voice, “it was totally a date.”

you shoved him again, “jisung, it was not a date!”

your eyes glanced towards where chan was sitting, surprised to see him already looking at you with a smile on his face.

oh my god, he heard them teasing you about him.

your immediate reaction was to flip chan off, which just made him laugh and turn back to his friends.

“you absolute cock,” you lowered your voice at jisung, “he heard you call it a date.”

he shrugged, “yeah, and he smiled about it.”

you ignored him, turning to face the court where the game would be starting soon.

“i’m just saying,” jisung continued, “would it really be that bad if you liked him?”

you didn’t answer him, keeping your eyes trained to the court and pursing your lips together in annoyance.

you didn’t notice that chan had overhead what jisung asked, something in his stomach dropping when he saw your negative reaction to the question.

he returned his focus to his friends, joining in on whatever conversation felix and hyunjin were on about. he tried to focus on them, but he couldn’t keep you off his mind, stealing glances at you every few minutes and hoping that maybe you’d be looking back.

he’d honestly hoped you’d sit with him during the game. there was enough room where he was seated for you and your friends to join, he didn’t get why you had to sit somewhere else. was he really that unbearable?

the game was just a minute away from halftime, the scores tied. you and everyone else in the crowd were on their feet, cheering on their respective teams.

you weren’t the biggest when it came to school spirit, but you were friends with a couple of the players. lee minho was someone you’d known for a long time, he’s actually the one who introduced you and jisung. you didn’t know whether to slap him or thank him for bringing the boy into your life, but either way, you always loved seeing the smile on his face when his team won.

minho had the ball in his control with the seconds ticking away at the timer. he passed it to someone else on his team, moving a few feet before they passed it right back to him. he was lined up perfectly for a three point shot.

you glanced at the scoreboard. 10 seconds until halftime.

he lined himself up to shoot and you cheered him on.

“you got it, min!!”

he released the ball from his hands and it went smoothly through the net just as the buzzer sounded, pausing the game with your team 3 points ahead.

although the gym may have been too loud for minho to have clearly heard what you said, chan heard it loud and clear.

min? you must be pretty close with him to call him that nickname, right? but chan had never heard you mention being close with lee minho before, so it couldn’t be anything serious. of course, he thought, with a twinge in his heart, you probably wouldn’t tell him if there was anything going on. as you’d made very clear the day before, you were not friends with him.

he watched as you rose from your seat and called to minho, stopping him from following the rest of his team to the locker room for a break before the second half.

he turned towards your voice, smiling when he noticed it was you. jisung and sooyeon followed you as you made your way across the gym and to him.

chan couldn’t hear what was being said from the other side of the gym, but he could see the way minho smiled down at you and wrapped you in his arms. he could see how you didn’t even complain about being pulled into the sweaty hug. if chan dared to hug you in that state, you’d probably kill him right then and there. on second thought, if he hugged you at all you would probably snap his neck.

without really thinking, he stood up and told hyunjin and felix he would be back soon. they exchanged a knowing glance as he crossed the gym to you, locking eyes with minho as he called your name.

he noted minhos arm hung loosely around your shoulders.

“i’m getting concessions. come with?”

minho raised his eyebrows at you, as if to ask “since when were you and chan close?”

“i don’t have money, chan, you know that.” you deadpanned.

“i know.” he rolled his eyes, “i’m buying.”

you were about to tell him to go on his own when minho spoke up, turning his face to you with his arm still around your shoulders.

“you go ahead, i should probably join my team.” he removed his arm from you, heading the direction of the locker rooms, “talk more after the game?”

“only if you win.” you teased.

“guess i got something to win for then.” he laughed, turning his back to the four of you.

chan unconsciously clenched his jaw at the interaction, motioning for you to follow him.

“you, too.” he pointed to jisung and sooyeon, “i’ll buy.”

jisung, never one to turn down free food, agreed immediately. you sent a glare in his direction, for all of the complaining you did about him, jisung seemed pretty pro-chan.

while waiting in line, jisung decided to start conversation.

“you’re actually kinda chill, y/n always makes you out to be an asshole.”

you hit jisung and chan let out a small laugh, one that could have easily been taken as amused if you didn’t see the hint of sadness lacing it.

“i can seem that way if you don’t know me.” he glanced at you before returning his eyes to jisung, “she’s getting to know me, though, so hopefully that changes.”

jisung nodded, motioning chan forward where it was your turn to order.

chan politely asked for just a sofa before stepping aside slightly to let you three order.

in natural jisung fashion, he ordered a soda and two pizza slices. sooyeon stuck with just a soda, and you got a soda and a small pack of m&ms.

chan payed for all of you before stepping out of line and sliding his wallet back into his pocket.

you all thanked him for paying as you headed back to the gym.

when you entered, he made his way back to his spot beside hyunjin, glancing back to see if you would follow. to his slight surprise, you did. you placed yourself on the bench next to him, jisung and sooyeon following suit.

his plan had worked, you had just sat down beside him willingly.

felix greeted you with a small wave, introducing himself to your friends. hyunjin did the same before a sly grin crossed his features as he pat his lap.

“i have a better seat for you, y/n.”

you reached across chan to playfully hit hyunjin, telling him to stop being a pervert, but neither he nor chan missed the blush on your cheeks at the comment.

you chatted a bit as a group before the alarm sounded, indicating that the game would be starting up again.

chan smiled in amusement at how into the game you got. he’d notice when you were sat a couple seats away from him, but he noticed it even more so now. he really had been wrong about you not caring about sports.

he watched as you clenched your fists every time the ball got stolen from someone on your team and cussed out the opposing teams members when they shoved one of your boys.

he chuckled as the same thing happened but with someone from your team shoving a boy from the opposing one, but you did not have the same sympathy when one of their teammates fell.

“get up, you’re fine!” you called, eyes following the ball.

you cheered whenever anyone from your team had the ball or scored, but you seemed to cheer a little harder every time it was minho in question. it made sense, you were friends, but chan couldn’t shake the frustrated feeling in his stomach every time you called minho's name.

by the time the game only had a few minutes left, the home team, your team, was up by enough points that it would take a real comeback for the other team to win.

they knew they had the game in the bag, swapping their normal varsity players like minho out with people who didn’t tend to get as much varsity playing time.

chan half expected you to lose interest in the game now that minho wasn’t on the court, but you remained just as invested as before, cheering on the younger players.

unsurprisingly, when the buzzer sounded, you were up by quite a few points. the whole of your schools team jumped up, congratulating each other on their win.

as everyone in the crowd rose and made their way out of the gym to head home, you stood, but remained in the gym.

after sitting with chan, felix, and hyunjin for the past half an hour, it didn’t strike you as odd when they stayed behind with you, sooyeon, and jisung as you waited for minho to shower off and meet you.

“y/n, chan,” felix singled you two out, “how’s that debate coming? pretty sure me and seungmin got this one in the bag.”

you stepped up a level on the bleachers to face felix, motioning between you and chan.

“we’re pretty confident.”

chan laughed, “are we?”

you shot him a glare for breaking your ruse, a laugh erupting from his throat. you took a small step to readjust your position, but your foot slipped off of the edge of the bleacher, causing you to lose balance. as you fell backwards, chan reacted quickly, wrapping his arm around your waist and planting his foot on the bleacher you’d slipped on to secure the both of you from falling.

you’d mentally prepared yourself for the impact, letting out a soft sound of surprise when it never came. chan helped you balance again and loosened his grip on you, keeping one hand on your waist as the other flew up to push your hair out of your face.

“you alright?”

you nodded, violently aware of his hands on your body but not really thinking anything of the interaction until you heard felix and jisung let out snickers.

you brushed chans hands off of you, “what?”

“oh, nothing.” jisung said.

just then, you heard the door to the locker room open and minho stepped out into the gym, changed out of his basketball attire and into some comfy sweatpants and a plain white shirt.

you hopped off the bleachers to go meet him, chan following immediately beside you.

you missed felix and jisungs snickers behind you, “he’s so whipped.”

minho glanced between you and chan again as you approached him. seriously, when did this happen? the last time he’d heard, you had nothing but dislike for him.

he nodded his head to address you, “dinner and ice cream?” he directed the question towards you, jisung, and sooyeon, turning to the others as an afterthought.

“you guys are welcome too.”

you smiled and accepted his offer, trying not to show that you really wished he hadn’t invited the other three. more specifically, chan. you still did not like him, you told yourself.

the more those words passed through your mind, the less truth you felt behind them and the more it felt like an empty phrase.

“where to?” jisung questioned as you all headed for the door to the parking lot.

“that diner a couple blocks away?” hyunjin suggested.

chan shook his head, “me and y/n just went there yesterday.”

you shrugged, “i’m fine with going again if you are.”

chan shrugged back, “it’s decided, then.”

you rode with sooyeon in jisungs car, you didn’t know exactly how the others pooled other than chan was driving, you recognized his car behind jisungs.

jisung parked the car and you stepped out, waiting for the others to arrive and join you before entering the small place.

when you did, you were greeted by the same woman who had served you and chan the night before. she looked between the two of you.

“back again? weren’t you just here last night on a little date?”

your face flushed red and you glanced at chan, his was bright red as well.

he started to politely deny but you broke in, “that was not a date.

she shrugged with a teasing smile, “you sure acted like it was.”

your mouth fell agape as you let her lead you to a table big enough to fit all of you, “no one tip her.” you joked, eliciting another laugh from her.

chan was surprised you’d been so calm about denying it, honestly. he’d expected a huge show, you making a point to make sure everyone in the restaurant knew you were not dating him.

he sat down and you,once again to his surprise, slipped in right beside him.

he frowned, it was like you said one thing but acted out another. you always made a point verbally to tell him and everyone else around you weren’t close but then you did things like that, deliberately choosing to sit next to him when you could have easily waited and positioned yourself between sooyeon and jisung or minho.

minho slid in next to you, jisung and sooyeon after him. felix and hyunjin sat on the other end of chan.

you opened your menu even though you were probably going to order the same thing you always did and a red flag shot off in your mind as your eyes locked with the prices. you’d forgotten you didn’t bring your wallet. you looked at your two friends, either they hadn’t realized their issue yet or just assumed someone else would pay for them.

you folded the menu back up and set it in front of you.

chan raised his eyebrows, “already decided?”

you nodded before softly speaking, “i’m not hungry.”

he frowned, “wanna just get a milkshake or something?”

you shook your head, playing with your hands in your lap.

he nudged you with his shoulder, “hey, my treat. get whatever you want.”

you looked at him with wide eyes, “you’ve already spent so much on me today.”

he waved you off, “$10 is not a lot, sweetheart. plus, i remembered you didn’t have your wallet when i agreed to come. i intended on paying for you anyway.”

you nodded, face flushing at his comment.

you’d be blushing if anyone called you by that nickname, you told yourself.

you made no move to grab the menu again, you would just opt for your usual.

the waitress arrived and took everyone’s order one by one. you decided to get another strawberry shake. after having the one yesterday, you remembered how good they were.

a few minutes later everyone’s drinks arrived, the waitress stating that the food would be done shortly. you took a sip from your milkshake before glancing over at chan.

“does the offer still stand from yesterday?”

he frowned and you gestured to the milkshake, indicating you wanted a sip.

he nodded, pushing it in your direction. you took a drink of the chocolate milkshake and then frowned a little, taking a sip of your strawberry one before tasting the chocolate again.

chan laughed, “what are you doing?”

“deciding which one i like more.”

he chuckled, reaching for your shake and doing the same.

“i think they’re pretty equal. both good in different ways.”

you agreed, saying they both had their own charms.

the waitress finally brought the food out and you had to bite back a remark as she set the ranch down on chans plate again. he noticed the look on your face as you eyed the sauce.

“are you going to fight me about my ranch again?”

you were going to reply, but minho cut in.

“i’m sorry y/n, do you have a problem with ranch?”

you looked between the two, “yes, actually, i do. who the hell eats it with chicken?”

the rest of the table caught wind of the conversation and joined in.

felix pointed at your plate, “barbecue all the way.”

jisung and hyunjin agreed, sooyeon stating that she liked both.

“okay,” jisung prompted, “but which ones better?”

“i swear to god if you say ranch we’re replacing you with felix.”

hyunjin pouted in faux hurt, “why not me?”

you shrugged, “or maybe hyunjin, i don’t know yet. we’ll hold a challenge to decide.”

she laughed, “not necessary, i’ll keep my spot. i gotta say barbecue over ranch.”

minho and chan groaned, they were heavily outnumbered.

“her opinion doesn’t count,” chan grumbled, “she’s not even eating chicken right now.”

you laughed and for a moment chan thought he was in a dream. the way your lips curled into a smile and your eyes shined while you laughed made his stomach do flips, the fact that he was the one causing your laughter just making it all the much better.

the meal was pleasant, fun and casual conversation flowing between everyone as you ate. the time to pay came and the waitress approached the table again, gathering the empty plates and glasses.

“how should i split the bill?”

chan spoke up first, gesturing between you and him.

“we’re together.”

felix scanned the table, “anyone need someone to cover them?”

both jisung and sooyeon timidly raised their hands, felix telling the waitress to but then on his tab. hyunjin and minho both payed their own.

as you all got out of your seats and headed for the door, jisung spoke to you.

“y/n, we should hang out with your rich friends more.”

chan heard the words leave jisungs mouth and prepared himself for your reply, but you didn’t say anything along the lines of what he’d expected. you would have. in fact, the words were just at the tip of your tongue.

“they’re not my friends, jisung.”

but as they almost left your lips, they didn’t taste right.

instead, you gave a small laugh, “or you could get a job and use your own money.”

“nah,” he waved a hand in dismissal, “who would drive you around then?”

you waved everyone goodbye as you hopped into the back of jisungs car, letting sooyeon take the front seat because you knew you’d be getting dropped off first anyway.

a week went by and it was finally time for the debates to start. each debate would take an entire class period, so you and chan didn’t have to go until the thursday of the week. you ate your muffin as quickly as you could, silently pouting to yourself that you would have to throw your own wrapper away today without even having thrown it as chan. what a waste.

you’d dressed up a little bit more than normal being that you knew it impacted your grade. you stood at the front of the room with felix and seungmin waiting for chan to arrive so you could begin.

he and hyunjin entered the room seconds before the bell rang, chan not even bothering to go to his seat to put his bag down, just laying it near the door.

you let out a small laugh at the way you, seungmin, and felix were dressed so much nicer than normal, but chan looked just as he did every day.

“you look nice.” was the first thing chan said to you.

you thanked him just as the teacher introduced who would be debating and where each team stood on the topic.

you and chan were set to give the first opening statement, which you’d both agreed you would say. but as the teacher gave the good to go, you found the words stuck in your throat.

chan noticed your nervousness, gently placing a hand on the small of your back and rubbing soothing circles with his finger.

if you’d been told a few weeks ago that chans hand on you like that would calm your nerves, you would have punched whoever said it in the face.

but now, as you focused on the way his hand felt against your back through the thin fabric of your outfit, you felt the anxiety lessen slightly. it was still there obviously, but you were able to get the words past your lips with a tone that made it sound like you were confident.

chans hand remained on your back until the opposite team's opening statement was completed and it was his turn to speak, getting into your first argument.

he’d taken a chance by touching you, but now he was glad he had. regardless of what you said, the way you reacted to his touch proved to him that you didn’t hate him. at least not as much as you claimed to.

the debate was rounded off and there were still a few minutes left of class. there would be no actual decided winner, just a grade to mark how well your teacher deemed your performance.

still, that didn’t stop you from arguing with felix that you’d obviously beat him and seungmin.

“we demolished you, lix.”

“you so did not,” he laughed back, “we actually had to go easy on your guys because we felt bad.”

the four of you argued playfully until the bell rang, releasing you to your next class. chan stopped you just outside the door.

“hey, y/n?”

you turned to him, humming to acknowledge you’d heard him.

“i’ve got a meet tonight, do you wanna come?”

you were taken aback by the question.

“oh, um, where is it?”

“it’s home,” he replied, “just a couple hours after school gets over, so you could probably just wait here if you wanted, we’re not really going to be practicing anyway.”

“i’d have to see if jisung can give me a ride to my house so i can pick up my wallet...”

“no need!” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small card, “use this.”

you frowned slightly at the piece of plastic, it was his fan pass, a free ticket for one person of each swim team members choice to get into every meet for free. each person only got one a season for the sake of still gaining profit, and chan was giving his to you?

you hesitantly took it from his hand, sliding it into your own pocket.

“are you sure?”

“yeah!” he beamed, “you’re the only one i could really think of who i’d want to have it.”

you felt your heart swell at his words, watching as he turned from you and headed to his next class.

you couldn’t fight the stupid grin from climbing onto your face and the giddy feeling in your stomach. chan wanted you at his games, more than anyone else. enough to give you his fan pass to make it easier for you to afford to come.

your heart did a summersault before dropping in realization.

you had been so focused on making sure you didn’t have any platonic feelings for him that you’d completely ignored the possibility of a different kind of feeling.

you had fallen for bang chan.

you didn’t mention your realization to anyone, not even jisung or sooyeon. the only mention of going to the swim meet was when you asked them if they wanted to go with you. sooyeon had to go to work, but jisung said he’d try to make it, letting you know minho would be there even if he himself couldn’t go.

they all went home to drop their stuff off before the meet, but you denied jisungs offer to give you a ride home. instead, you headed to where you the boys would be, as chan put it, not really practicing.

you entered the pool room and saw that he was not joking around, they really weren’t practicing. they weren’t even in swim gear, all just sitting in a circle on the concrete next to the pool and chatting. you noticed a pile of backpacks near the door and you added yours to it before stepping in further.

you weren’t sure whether to approach them or not, they didn’t seem to be doing anything serious, would it be okay for you to join them?

as if reading your mind, chan called you over to sit beside him, sliding closer to one of his teammates you didn’t know the name of to make room for you.

“who’s this?” one of his teammates asked with a curious smile.

“his girlfriend.” hyunjin piped up, earning a chorus of cheers from the rest of the teams. your face flushed red and chan waved his arms to calm everyone down, “y/n is not my girlfriend.”

you swallowed thickly, just a week ago you would have jumped to agree with those words, but now they made your stomach hurt. when did this change even happen? you couldn’t pinpoint it.

he noticed your discomfort, placing a hand on your knee to calm you down, hoping you would have the same positive reaction to his touch that you had that morning.

noticing the action, one of his teammates spoke up.

“not your girlfriend my ass.”

instead of responding to his teammate, chan directed his attention towards you.

“the meet starts in about two hours. i’ve gotta go in one to get ready, do you have someone to wait with you so you’re not alone?

you nodded, “i know minho is for sure coming, jisung might too.”

he wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of minho coming, but at least he knew you wouldn’t be sitting alone.

you thought it would be awkward sitting with chans swim team for an hour, especially considering how much they’d already teased you, but it was actually pleasant.

the group of you talked about random stuff, laughing and joking around. you’d even learned some of their names. jeongin and changbin were the two you spoke to most, aside from chan and hyunjin.

the time came when they had to go prepare for the meet and get changed and you waved them all goodbye, pulling out your phone to text minho and ask if he’d gotten to the school yet.

he responded almost immediately that he had just parked and would be in in a few minutes. you walked out to greet him by the ticket booth where there was already a line forming.

you slipped into line beside him and started casual conversation.

“do you come to sports stuff alone a lot?” you asked, referring to the fact that if you hadn’t been asked to come he would have been sitting alone.

he shrugged, “i guess. you don’t need someone with you to enjoy a sport.” he send a wink your way as he lightly pushed you with his shoulder, “everything is more fun with you, though.”

you laughed, stepping ahead to show the woman taking money the pass chan had given you. before you could get it out of your pocket, minho was thrusting a $10 bill to the ticket taker.

you stopped him, pulling the card from your pocket and showing it to both him and the ticket taker.

“i’ve got this, you don’t need to pay for me.”

he furrowed his brows in confusion, “chan gave you his fan pass?”

you nodded, a blush forming on your cheeks.

he nodded, swapping the $10 for a $5 bill to avoid getting unnecessary change.

you walked into the room and caught sight of your backpack. it was alone on the floor now, all of the boys had taken theirs with them when they went to get changed. you moved to pick it up, pausing when you noticed a sticky note on top of it.

paper clipped under the note was a small amount of cash, and scribbled across the piece of paper was a small note. you knew the handwriting right away, you’d been forced into too many ethics projects with chan not to recognize his handwriting by now.

“forgot to give you this! for if you get hungry :)”

you didn’t notice the smile on your face until minho commented on it.

“what, he’s your sugar daddy now?”

you shoved him lightly, laughing at his joke.

you swung the bag over your shoulder and pocketed the money along with the note (it was cute, you wanted to keep it).

being there so early, it was quite easy to find a good spot. chan had told you which lanes and pools he’d be racing in so you knew where to sit to be able to see him, too.

deciding to finally ask what changed between you two, minho spoke up.

“didn’t you hate him like less than a month ago? and now you have his fan pass?”

you shrugged, “he got less annoying. started acting like a normal person instead of an asshole.”

minho frowned, “he seems the same to me.”

you shrugged, “he probably acts different around different people.”

“so,” he continued, “are you two like...”

you shook your head as your face flushed pink.

“no, no. he just didn’t have anyone else to give the pass to.”

minho raised his eyebrows but hummed and accepted your answer anyway.

you hadn’t noticed time ticking by and the area growing more crowded as you talked until a man stood on a high platform near the center pool with a microphone in his hand began to speak, welcoming everyone to the meet.

the races began and chan wasn’t in any of the starting line ups, but hyunjin was. being the only other person you really knew, you focused on him.

watching swim was different than watching a lot of other sports, but you enjoyed it anyway. there was no fighting for a ball or scoring goals, no ball to follow, but it was just as entertaining to watch the way the water worked with every swimmer.

you were still amazed with hyunjin’s movements. you weren’t surprised in the slightest when his race ended with him being the first to complete the set.

as much as you found hyunjin interesting to watch, you couldn’t help but be happy as the first round ended and the second began, the first chan would be competing in.

you watched as he stepped out to the edge of the pool, scanning the crowd for you. he smiled and sent a small wave in your direction before getting into position to dive.

you ended up not using any of the money chan had given you for drinks and snacks, not even when minho got up to go get some food of his own. you stayed planted in your seat the whole time matches were occurring, always either trained on hyunjin or chan. there were the occasional time that neither of them were racing in any of the pools, but it wasn’t often and rounds were never long enough for you to leave without missing anything.

at the end of the night, the added up scores were close, but chan’s team had won. you weren’t as caught up on the scoring system of swimming as you were of other sports, but you didn’t need to know. the announcer let out the final scores of each team, your schools team coming out on top.

people stood and began to leave as the swimmers began towards the locker rooms and the team managers started cleaning up the pool area and covering the pools again.

chan waited for you before leaving to change, allowing you to congratulate him on the win.

minho said a quick goodbye, stating he had to get home and do some work before it got too late, leaving you and chan alone.

before really realizing what you were doing, you wrapped your arms around chan and held him in a tight hug. he faltered for a moment before wrapping his arms securely around you, holding you close to him. you moved to pull away, but he kept you locked in his arms.

“chan, let me go! you’re still soaked!”

“you hugged me first, you asked for this!”

your hands found his chest as you planted your palms there and pushed him away from you, suddenly very aware of the way his bare chest felt under your hands.

you retracted your hands from his body, wiping them on your pants to dry them off.

ignoring your thudding heart, you spoke.

“now i smell like chlorine.”

a sly smile spread across his face, “no, now you smell like me.”

you blushed and he took a step closer to you, closing the distance between the two of you and holding your elbows as he kept you close to him.

“thank you for coming.”

you smiled up at him and teased, “i only came because you asked me to. i really hated it.”

he gasped in faux hurt, “you mean to say you didn’t enjoy watching me shirtless for three hours?”

you shook your head, “hyunjin looked pretty good though.”

he chuckled and you felt his grip on your arms loosen as he moved one of his hands to your face, cupping your cheek.

the next thing you knew his lips were on yours and for some reason, that didn’t upset you in the slightest. you kissed him back, his lips were so soft for someone who spent half of their time in chlorine soaked water.

he pulled away and scanned your face for any sign of discomfort, a big smile covering his face when he found none.

“i’m not going to lie,” he chuckled, “i kind of thought you’d punch me when i did that.”

you laughed, raising your eyebrows, “i still have time to.”

he removed his hands from you and held them up in defense, taking a step back from you. you laughed even more at his reaction, surprising the both of you and closing the gap, hands going to his neck as you pulled him down into another kiss.

the moment was cut short as the locker room flew open and hyunjin stepped out, pausing in the door when he saw the scene taking place in front of him.

a smile crept onto his features and he spoke with a teasing tone, “i thought she wasn’t your girlfriend.”

you both laughed softly before chan responded, “she wasn’t.”

“is she now?” hyunjin prompted.

chan looked at you with his brows raised as if to ask “i don’t know, are you?”

ignoring the furious blush across your cheeks, you replied, “i mean, yeah.”

hyunjin clapped just hands loudly, “fucking finally.”

“language, hwang!” the coach called from across the large room.

“my bad,” he yelled back before directing his words towards chan, “you should get changed.”

chan nodded, sending one last smile in your direction before walking into the locker room and leaving you and hyunjin.

“when you realize i’m way hotter than chan, give me a call.” he sent a teasing wink in your direction and you laughed as he left the room, leaving you alone.

you waited patiently for chan to come back from the locker room, scrolling through your phone. you debated texting your friends the new update, but you figured you’d just tell them the next day.

despite being the last to go into the locker room, chan was not the last out. he came back to you just a few minutes after leaving.

he held his keys up, signaling it was time to go. you followed him to his car, letting him pull open the door for you. you slipped in as quickly as possible, slamming the door shut behind you and pressing the button to lock the doors.

chan sent a small glare in your direction, but you could see the smile threatening to poke through.

he held up his key fob, clicking his own button to unlock the doors. he made a move to open the drivers side door and pulled on the handle just as you clicked the lock again. you repeated this a few times before letting out a loud laugh and finally allowing him to get into his car, tossing his things into the back seat.

“we’ve literally been dating for less than an hour and you’re already terrorizing me.” he grumbled.

he paused for a moment before continuing, “straight home or are you hungry?”

you shrugged, “whatever you want.”

he nodded, pulling the car out of the parking spot, “food it is.”

he didn’t bother to ask what restaurant you wanted, heading to the same little diner a few blocks away he’d taken you to before.

you laughed as you entered the diner to see the same waitress that had served you the last two times you were there.

“do you ever go home?”

she laughed, “do you two ever eat anywhere other than here?”

“touché.”

you chose your spot before ordering almost immediately, you’d learned that chan also tended to stick with the same choice every time.

“hey,” chan called to the waitress before she could walk away, “guess what?”

“what, dear?”

chan reached across the table and grabbed your hand, “it’s an official date this time.”

she broke into a big smile, “i knew it was only a matter of time.”

you sat down at your spot the next morning with a pout on your face. for the first time in about a month, there was no muffin on your spot.

it wasn’t like whoever put them there was obligated to give you one every morning, but you’d gotten so used to it.

you looked ahead at who would be debating today, you couldn’t recall any of their names.

chan walked through the door earlier than normal due to the fact that there hadn’t been practice that morning because of the meet the night before. you smiled at him as he approached your table, but the smile dropped into a look of confusion as he placed a muffin ahead of you before slipping behind you.

he sat down, “morning, baby.”

when you didn’t respond, a concerned look crossed his features.

“what’s wrong?”

you held up the muffin, “you’ve been giving me these?”

he shrugged, “yeah. i remembered you saying you didn’t always get breakfast.”

as he smiled at you something clicked in your brain.

minhos words from the night before repeated themselves in your head.

“he seems the same to me.”

that’s because he was the same. that was it, he hadn’t changed. he never stopped being an asshole, he just never was one in the first place. he wasn’t ever a prick, you just had your heart set so strongly on hating him that you saw everything he did in the worst way possible. the things he used to do that annoyed you were now things you grew fond of. the way he bumped your chair sometimes in the morning used to make you livid, but now it brought a smile to your face. you used to want to rip his head off when he hummed while working, but you adored the sound now, even going so far as to not put in headphones so you could hear him. he was the same boy he’d always been.

he didn’t change, the way you saw him did.

but just as quickly as these became things you loved about him, they fell right back into being annoying habits.

5K notes · View notes

hrtiu · 3 years

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Why The Believer is my favorite episode of The Mandalorian

There are a lot of unforgettable moments in The Mandalorian. Maybe your favorite episode is the season 2 finale, with those iconic Chanel boots. Maybe your favorite episode is The Jedi, with Ahsoka and her Thrawn teaser. Maybe your favorite episode is the finale of season 1, with IG-11′s sacrifice. All valid choices! But my favorite episode is S2E15: The Believer, and I’ll tell you why.

From the very first episode, Din’s relationship with being Mandalorian and the Code is framed as religious. He kneels in front of the forge while the Armorer makes his pauldron, he speaks formally to her, and lays the beskar and the payment for his last bounty out like an offering.

It’s also not difficult to see parallels between covering your face and some real-life religious tenets (though these are imperfect parallels and be careful how you use them). As someone who follows a specific dress code due to my faith, I definitely immediately related to Din as a religious person.

Din’s devotion to his faith is, for the most part, positively framed in the show. The Creed’s emphasis on protecting and raising foundlings is a large part of why Din decides to rescue Grogu from the Imperials. In the prisonbreak episode, Xi’an suggests that it might be his Code that has made Din soft. In S1E4, Omera is tremendously respectful of Din’s faith even when it means he has to turn down her affection.

His devotion to the Creed is what sets him apart from other bounty hunters. Sure, he’s a brutal, harsh man more than capable of violence, but he also has a strict code of conduct by which he lives his life.

Then we reach Chapter 6, an episode that felt painfully familiar to myself and many other people of faith, I’m sure. The way Mayfeld asks Xi’an if Din ever takes his helmet off, as if Din isn’t right there in front of him. The way Xi’an mockingly parrots, “This is the Way.”

My situation obviously isn’t exactly the same as Din’s, but these scenes remind me of the prying questions, the teasing pressure to break my religious commitments, the mocking of beliefs I hold sacred. It really hit home.

Then things get complicated in season 2 when we find out that other Mandalorians consider Din and the Death Watch a cult.

I appreciated this in the sense that it demonstrates the wide variety of beliefs even within the same religion--but at the same time it had me worried. Was this going to be yet another “losing my religion” story? Was this going to be a tale of disillusionment and breaking free of Din’s restrictive past? I’ve seen a lot of stories like that before, and I was hoping to see something different.

Even before Din meets Bo-Katan, we see him gradually softening his adherence to the Code. He starts off meeting Cobb Vanth by challenging him to essentially a battle to the death for wearing Mandalorian armor, then cooperates for the rest of the episode with him to defeat the Crate Dragon. They part ways as friends.

In S2E6, Din is upset when Boba first demands the Mandalorian armor, but he’s not very difficult to convince to accept Boba as the owner of the armor after they fight together.

As a viewer who loves baby Yoda, we’re happy to see him make exceptions to keep Grogu safe. But as a person of faith, I was a little worried about where this might be headed and how it might undermine what I saw as a very positive message in season one. Then we get to Season 2, Episode 7: The Believer.

Right off the bat, Din sees himself forced to stretch the limits of his adherence to the Code in this episode. He goes with Mayfeld into the Imperial facility, covering his face with the helmet of an Imperial driver. Mayfeld immediately picks up on the inconsistency.

He picks right back up with the mockery and not-so-subtle digs.

Then we get a bit of a peak into where Mayfeld’s derision is really coming from. Yes, Mayfeld is speaking aloud the insecurities that Din is facing himself--the doubts about whether it actually means anything to live by his Code, the question of if his chosen way of life actually makes any difference. But Mayfeld is also revealing the source of his own derision as well.

See how the focus switches to Mayfeld? How his voice gets soft and he’s looking off into the distance? This is a man who is talking to himself. This is a man who’s trying to convince himself that every bad thing he’s done in his past is fine because everyone is equally guilty.

When faced with the terminal that requires a facial scan, Mayfeld actually tries to protect Din in his own small way by not even asking him to scan his face.

Mayfeld then hesitates to help Din when Din’s having a hard time with the terminal. He peeks in on Din, and you get the sense that he’s actually hesitant to disrespect Din’s code by looking at his face. Of course, when Din is confronted by the Imperial officer, Mayfeld steps in to help.

Then they talk with the Imperial officer who actually believes what Mayfeld acted like he believed before. That they’re all the same. That all moral codes--or lack thereof--are equally flawed and that therefore nothing matters. This is when we see the guilt that Mayfeld has been trying to hide all this time--the guilt that Din and his strict Code constantly remind him of.

This is the moment that has been haunting Mayfeld--one of perhaps many atrocities that weigh heavy on his soul. And as a viewer you can see how differently this event sit on his heart versus how it sits on the officer’s heart.

This is very reminiscent of what Mayfeld said earlier in the episode, but we can see that this officer genuinely believes it, while Mayfeld does not.

And this is where Mayfeld reaches his breaking point, where he can’t keep pretending that he doesn’t care or that everyone is equally bad.

And this is when Mayfeld turns from critic into ally and protector. He respects Din’s integrity, he understands that being imperfect doesn’t mean it’s not worth it. And this is what I was so happy to see. I was afraid that as soon as Din took his helmet off, the story would suggest that he’d finally seen the light and broken free of his restrictive Code. And yes, Din is likely going to be more liberal with his adherence to the Code in the future. We see this when he takes his helmet off in the next episode to say goodbye to Grogu. But he isn’t throwing it away.

So what’s the message of The Believer? To me it’s that faith is messy. Faith often involves evolution. In fact, faith generally requires evolution. But just because you mess up, just because you’re a hypocrite, just because you can’t always live up to your ideals, doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t have them.

And we can separate this from faith, too, if you want. Think about what’s right and wrong, examine the way you live your life, develop a moral code. It won’t necessarily be perfect, and you won’t always live by it, but at least you’ll have something. It’s always better to try than to give up.

And in Mayfeld’s immortal words:

#the mandalorian #din djarin #mayfeld #migs mayfeld #star wars #star wars meta #the mandalorian meta #meta #religion #faith #i spent way too long on this

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forzalando · 3 years

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dance with me | b.b.

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader au: modern, non-avengers!au word count: 3.2k warnings: mentions of alcohol/drinking a/n: hello friends! i know i've been a bit inactive but inspiration struck for bucky so here is fluff with my actual baby

summary: Bucky is the best man at Steve and Peggy's wedding, and he's dreading giving the best man speech. All seems to be going incredibly well until Bucky sets his eyes on the most beautiful woman he's ever seen among the crowd of wedding guests.

Bucky was nervous; how could he not be when in a few short moments he would have to make a speech in front of hundreds of people? Most of them were strangers which brought him a sliver of comfort, but there were still far too many familiar eyes at this massive wedding.

He had made it down the aisle by sheer, dumb luck, and thankfully stood at Steve’s side unwavering throughout the entire ceremony.

It was beautiful and surprisingly shorter than expected, but Bucky had little time to relish in that because the sooner everyone got to the reception, the sooner it would be time for him to make the best man speech.

As everyone piled out of their respective modes of transportation in front of the reception venue, Bucky felt a hand clap against his back and he lurched forward.

“Ready for your big moment, Barnes?”

Bucky rolled his eyes and turned to face his fellow groomsman Sam Wilson, a friend he made reluctantly through Steve, and brushed Sam’s arm off of his shoulder.

“You know, I think you’d be much better suited to make a speech. Your charisma, that effortless charm…tell me you don’t agree.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Barnes, and besides, I have my video camera fully charged and ready to record you. Might even put it on YouTube.”

Sam gave Bucky another pat on the back and walked briskly towards the reception, shamelessly flirting with every single female guest he passed by.

He figured there was no use in waiting, and Bucky quickly followed Sam towards the wedding party table. Bucky let out a sigh of relief when he saw that his nametag was placed between Steve’s and Thor’s; if he was sat next to Sam or Tony he might have run out of the ballroom before anyone had a chance to hand him a mic.

The celebration was already in full swing; Tony was on stage introducing the band and reminding everyone that the reception was fully equipped with an open bar, courtesy of Stark Industries as one of many wedding gifts to Steve and Peggy. Almost immediately, a server with a tray of champagne approached Bucky and held out a flute.

Bucky took it eagerly, downing one and grabbing another before the server made his way to others standing nearby. As the cool, sparkling liquid swished around in his mouth, Bucky caught Steve’s eye and walked quickly to catch up with him.

“I’ve barely seen you all day, how you holding up, Stevie?”

“It’s the happiest day of my life, Buck, I’m absolutely perfect. Peggy was looking for you, I told her I would find you with a champagne glass in hand. There’s nothing to be nervous about, Buck, hell, you can just make a toast and sit down in 30 seconds if you want.”

“No, no, I have notecards and everything. I vow that this will be the best, best man speech in history, even if Sam thinks I’m bound to screw up.”

“Yeah, I saw he brought a video camera,” Steve chuckled, his eyes scanning the crowd for Sam’s tall stature. “I still don’t understand how you can command a courtroom but you’re afraid of making the best man’s speech.”

“Simple; law is facts, best man speech is emotion. I’m great at facts, not so great at emotion. Case dismissed.”

Steve shook his head and laughed at his best friend’s corny sense of humor that permeated most of Bucky’s words. It was one of the reasons people were so drawn to him, but Bucky didn’t always feel the same pull towards other people.

“Well, it’s almost time for dinner, I’m off to get back to my wife,” Steve sighed adoringly. “My wife, can you believe that?”

“Yes, I’ve known this day would come since the moment you two met. I’ll see you at the table, punk.”

Bucky weaved his way through the crowds of people back to the wedding party table and wasn’t surprised to find that Sam had switched the name plates so that he was now in Thor’s seat. If he wasn’t so nervous, he might have even laughed, but Sam’s video camera peeking out from under the table brought a sickly feeling back to Bucky’s stomach. He quickly summoned a server and plucked another flute of champagne from the serving tray, quelling his nerves by finishing the glass in one gulp.

Soon enough, everyone was seated and plates were served. Despite the fact that there were hundreds of people in the room, it felt homey. Everyone was chattering lively and Bucky found himself doubled over when Sam choked on a green bean and launched it halfway across the room when he coughed it up.

Halfway through dessert, Bucky felt Steve rise from his seat and then heard the faint tapping of silverware on Steve’s wine glass.

“Peggy and I are unbelievably blessed to have you all here with us today. We couldn’t be happier than to share and celebrate our love with all of you, our friends and family.”

“You wouldn’t know it, because I kept it very well hidden, but I knew there was something special about Steve from the moment I met him, and I had always dreamed that one day we would be here,” Peggy spoke assuredly. “I’d love to take the next few hours to talk about Steve, but my cousin and my maid of honor, Sharon, would like to make a toast.”

In all honesty, Bucky couldn’t hear a word of Sharon’s speech. His heart rate was impossibly high, high enough for his smart watch to notify him that he seemed to be in distress, and he stared blankly ahead until he felt Steve stand up again.

“And now, my best man, my best friend, my brother, Bucky, also has a few words he would like to share.”

It happened in slow motion; Steve sitting down and Bucky rising simultaneously. He pulled his notecards from his jacket pocket, while Sam slipped the video camera out from under the table, and took a deep breath, hoping to calm his heartbeat.

“The night Steve and Peggy met, way back when we were freshmen in college, I told Steve that he was going to marry her. I know he didn’t believe me because, believe it or not, he wasn’t always the buff, handsome guy you see before you. But, Steve’s always had a heart of gold, and I know that Peggy saw his heart that night. For those that know how they met, you know what I’m talking about, and for those that don’t, well, I’ll save Steve the embarrassment since it is his wedding day and I’m supposed to be nice to him.”

Bucky heard laughter across the room, and he stood a little taller and raised his gaze to look into the crowd as he flipped to his next notecard.

“When I think about true love, I think about the perseverance that one half of this perfect couple portrayed just to get a first date. I’ll give you a hint: it wasn’t Steve. It was brutal watching Peggy flirt with this man and Steve never realized until one day Peg just planted one right on him, signature red lipstick and all. I’ll tell ya, I’ve never seen Stevie smile bigger in his life, except for maybe earlier today when Tony, ordained minister for the day, pronounced him and Peg husband and wife.”

The laughter continued and Bucky let his eyes wander across the room before they landed on a table not too far from his own, where a woman sat with her legs crossed and a dreamy smile on her perfect face.

Bucky quickly looked away before she noticed his staring, and flipped another card.

“It’s been many years since those puppy-love college days, but through every trial, every hardship, I’ve only seen their love grow infinitely stronger. It is a true – ”

Bucky’s voice cut off as his eyes landed once again on the captivating stranger; his eyes fixated on the curve of her lip and the way her eyelashes fluttered gently across her cheekbones as she blinked.

He cleared his throat and began again.

“It is a true…a true…please forgive me, but I can’t focus on this speech when the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen is sitting right in this room.”

Sam clapped a hand over his mouth, stifling his own laughter so that he didn’t mess up the sound on the recording.

“Table…ten? I think that’s table ten. The Y/H/C woman in the pale blue dress, please, please allow me the pleasure of knowing your name.”

The mystery woman straightened up immediately, a look of embarrassment crossing her face as she looked around her to see if there was, by chance, another Y/H/C woman wearing a blue dress, but of course there wasn’t.

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to yell, I’ll be right there,” Bucky spoke into the mic before hopping over the table and hastening towards table ten.

Sam could no longer contain his laughter, and Peggy stared at Steve in bewilderment, shocked at Bucky’s actions. She hadn’t known him to act like this in years, ever since Dot broke his heart their senior year of college he’d lost that romantic and spontaneous side to him.

Bucky settled in the empty seat next to the stranger and flashed her a boyish, charming smile; extending his hand out for her to shake.

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” she spoke as she took Bucky’s hand gently. “It’s, uh, it’s nice to meet you, but don’t you have a speech to get back to?”

“You’re absolutely right, I’ll find you later.”

Bucky gingerly lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, watching as her Y/E/C eyes grew wide in shock. He quickly ran off before she had time to say another word and made his way back to the wedding party table with a skip in his step.

Sam handed Bucky back his mic, offering him a wink and a sly smile.

“I apologize for the brief interruption,” Bucky breathed out, “but I had to know her name. It’s Y/N, by the way, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Before I laid eyes on her I was about to tell you all how Peggy and Steve will make it through everything, because their love is the truest love I’ve ever seen. They build each other up, love each other through faults and mistakes, and the way they look at each other is truly sickening in the most heartwarming of ways. I love you both more than anything. Congratulations to my favorite people in the world!”

Bucky lifted his glass and encouraged the guests to lift theirs as well, toasting to the newlywed couple in unison. Once he had taken a sip and everyone set their glasses down on their respective tables, Bucky sat down in his seat and let out a dramatic sigh.

“Man, you were better than I could have ever hoped for,” Sam snickered as he replayed the footage to see Bucky catapult himself over the table one more time. But, Bucky was paying him no attention.

“Steve, do you know her? Why haven’t you ever introduced me?” Bucky hounded his best friend as Steve tried his best to keep a straight face.

“I have no idea who she is, Buck. Peg, do you know her?”

“She looks familiar but I can’t put my finger on it…maybe she’s someone’s plus one?”

Bucky’s shoulders slumped in defeat, of course she had come here with someone, and he had made a fool of himself in front of the entire reception.

A snort of laughter could be heard from over Peggy’s shoulder and Sharon leaned forward trying to repress her giggles.

“Y/N came with me! That guy I’ve been seeing, he got called on a last minute business trip and couldn’t come but I’d already RSVP’d as two plates, so I asked Peggy if it was ok if I brought someone else. Y/N works with me at the hospital, she’s a peds nurse and the sweetest person in the world.”

Bucky sat up straight almost instantly, a giddy smile crossing his face.

“So, she’s single?”

“I mean, I think so, she’s never mentioned anyone – ”

“Great, thank you, Sharon, I’ll catch up with you guys in a bit.”

Once again, Bucky ran across the room and found himself at table ten. This time, there was no empty seat next to Y/N, so Bucky kneeled on the floor in front of her and watched her eyes grow wide as they did before.

“Bucky,” she whispered, “what are you doing?”

“Will you dance with me?”

“There’s no music, everyone is still finishing up dessert, plus Peggy and Steve haven’t had their first dance and…you’re not going to leave until I say yes, are you?”

“No, you can say no. I just have this feeling that you don’t want to.”

Y/N smiled at the handsome man kneeling before her; his bright blue eyes fixed on her face as he awaited her answer with baited breath.

“Yes, I’ll dance with you. But not until Steve and Peggy have their first dance.”

“Of course, Y/N, I’m not a heathen, I know how wedding customs work.”

Bucky held out a hand and helped Y/N to her feet. She expected him to drop it once she was standing, but his sweaty palm, which she found adorable, stayed clasped in her own as he turned towards the table at the front of the room.

“HEY STEVE,” Bucky shouted. “Y/N WON’T DANCE WITH ME UNTIL YOU AND PEG HAVE YOUR FIRST DANCE, DO YOU KNOW WHEN THAT’S SCHEDULED TO HAPPEN?”

Y/N watched as Steve helped Peggy from her seat and they glided towards the dance floor, their eyes never leaving one another.

The dulcet tones of Frank Sinatra rang through the speakers in the ballroom; a fitting choice for Steve and Peggy as they had always been sort of old fashioned. Their love was timeless, ageless, and seemed to be from a different era.

Bucky watched Y/N’s eyes as they followed Steve and Peggy sway across the dance floor, their smiles and gazes only for each other. After a few seconds, Bucky saw Steve look away from Peggy and search the crowd. Finally, Steve’s gaze landed on Bucky and he gave him a nod, asking him to join him on the dance floor.

He tightened his grip on Y/N’s hand and urged her towards the open space in the middle of the massive room.

“Bucky, I’m nervous, are you sure this ok?”

“Lovely, never, never change,” Bucky sang along to the music as they continued walking towards the dance floor.

“Seriously, Bucky, no one else is out here except for the bridge and groom!”

“…Cause I love you, just the way you look tonight,” Bucky continued singing.

Y/N looked over at Steve and Peggy to see them smiling at her, encouraging her to take her place on the floor with Bucky, so she moved just a bit faster and pulled Bucky as close to her as possible while the light baritone voice of Sinatra faded out.

“Are you ready, doll?”

“For what?”

A familiar opening guitar riff replaced the jazz from before and Y/N laughed as Bucky adjusted his stance and gripped her hands tightly.

“For this crazy little thing called love.”

Within seconds, Bucky was swinging Y/N around the dance floor and their laughter filled the air.

More guests started raiding the dance floor, but all Y/N could see was Bucky’s smiling face as they twirled around the dance floor in the most rudimentary version of a swing dance the world had ever seen.

All too fast, the song began to end and an upbeat, modern pop song took over the Queen classic. Instead of pulling him towards the mosh pit quickly forming in the middle of the dance floor, orchestrated by Sam no doubt, Y/N headed towards the nearest exit with Bucky in tow.

They stepped out into the cool night air in some sort of patio garden, and Y/N groaned at how perfect the setting was as her night had already played out akin to a cheesy romance movie.

“What are we doing out here, doll?”

“I just wanted a moment alone with the man who embarrassed me in front of hundreds of people at my best friend’s cousin’s wedding.”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have been so – ”

“Relax, Bucky,” she giggled as she placed a hand on his cheek. “I’m just messing with you. But, I would like to know what this whole stunt is about, however sweet it may be.”

“Stunt? Honestly, I’m not sure, I just know that I saw you and couldn’t form any coherent thoughts afterwards. I still can’t.”

“So this was all spur of the moment, on a whim, trying to impress the pretty stranger at your best friend’s wedding?”

“That about sums it up, trying to impress the stunning stranger at my best friend’s wedding.”

“Bucky Barnes, you are so corny.”

“Only for you, doll, I haven’t felt this way in so long. What are you doing tomorrow night? Sharon said you work with her at the hospital, I don’t know your schedule or, or if you even want to go out with me but, God, I’d love to take you out.”

Y/N looked at the hopeful look on Bucky’s face, at the sparkle in his eyes, and she felt her heart lurch inside her chest. Whatever feeling Bucky was describing, she could only dream that it was the same way she was feeling right now.

“I’m sort of tied up every night this week…but I’m free next weekend? If you don’t mind waiting that long.”

“I would wait forever if I had to,” Bucky grinned as he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Y/N’s cheek.

She grabbed his hand once more and they walked back into the reception hall, acutely aware that many pairs of eyes were watching them as they crossed the room.

“I’ve got to go ask Sharon to introduce me to Peggy, I actually haven’t officially met her yet but,” Y/N paused and her gaze fell to the ground, a sudden nervousness overcoming her. “I’ll come find you later? Maybe? If you’d like to dance with me again?”

“I’ll save all my dances for you, angel, don’t you worry.”

Y/N smiled so brightly at Bucky he swore his heart might stop, and he watched her walk away in a trance-like state until an arm being slung around his shoulders broke him out of it.

“I think you’re going to marry her,” Steve said mockingly, recalling the memory of a situation reversed so many years ago.

“Unlike you,” Bucky teased, “I’m not in denial. I know I’m going to marry her.”

marvel/bucky taglist: @weelittleweasley @gredmforge @vogueweasley @kaye-lantern @emeraldbears20 @barnesjamcs @thisuserlovesyouandyouandyou @fallingforyou123 @vivacesole@raiaurii @phoenixes-and-wizards @gloryekaterina @hannahmeyer1999 @belladonnabarnes @beautyschoo1dropout @loonylovegood13 @saara-sanders @le-weasley-simp @swiftss@omghufflepuff (if your URL has strikethrough, i was unable to tag you!)

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes #marvel au

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