#because i dismiss my own feelings as stupid and wrong | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

redstarwriting · 11 months

Text

the clash | ii. time bomb

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 1.5k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, y’all almost fight twice lmao

a/n: felt bad only posting the first chapter, so here’s the second one as well! i’ll get the third one out as soon as i can, but a bitch has work tomorrow and the next day. please enjoy chapter two everyone! and if you wanna be added to the taglist just let me know! :)

now reading: ii. time bomb

previous chapter: i. hey, ho! let’s go!

next chapter: iii. black planet

───────────────────────────────

Hobie swings his way to where he’s sure Gwen is, and in doing so he will probably also find Miles and Pavitr. He’s sure he looks like if someone said the wrong thing to him, he would punch them in the face, because honestly? He just might. And he doesn’t care. You pissed him off. With your stupid opinions. People like you are the reason anarchy can never succeed, you’re either all in or you’re all out. He hates the way you dismissed him, which is a shame because he really thought you were drop-dead gorgeous.

Speaking of drop, that thought makes him drop. Like, actually. He face plants.

He groans. Fucking hell, he’s never had to deal with this type of hatred before. Usually, it’s just cut and dry ‘I hate you cause xyz’, but fuck you are making it hard. While he hates you for what you said, he loves your style, and he respects you standing your ground and not giving into him with your beliefs, but at the same time, you piss him off. He glances around, “Meant to do that.” No one in particular hears him, but he quickly webs off again. He searches for bright blond hair, and sure enough, he sees Gwen. She’s chilling in the common room Hobie claimed as his own a while back. He claimed it by… redecorating. He just made it feel more like home, and since Miguel is such a lame ass, he didn’t appreciate all the colorful spray paint and broken furniture. But Hobie doesn’t really give a fuck. As he gets closer, he can see that Miles and Pavitr are there too, and… absolutely fucking not.

He lands directly next to you with an unamused look on his face. “And who invited you into my home away from home?” You look at him and roll your eyes. “This your place? Well, that explains why it looks like someone gave Mayday Parker a 50-pack of markers and told her to go to town in here–”

“Ha ha. Funny.”

“–and to answer your question, I invited myself,” you say smugly, and he narrows his eyes at you. “Don’t try to make me like you, it’s not gonna work, love,” he growls, and everyone can tell by the way he said love that he certainly did not mean it as a term of endearment. “I wouldn’t dream of it, mate,” you say, imitating his accent in over-exaggerated way. “I don’t think they are actually calling him their mate,” Pavitr whispers to Miles, who gives him an expression practically dripping in ‘no shit.’ Hobie tears his gaze away from you and looks at Gwen. “We need to show this twat around,” he huffs, and Gwen raises her eyebrows. “We? Isn’t that your job,” she says, and Miles nods. “Yeah, I remember you said you made a deal with Miguel that–”

“I don’t give a fuck if it’s my ‘job,’ when have I ever followed the rules of a fuckin’ job?” he seethes, and you snicker. “Aw, how endearing, the punk rebel has a job. I’ll be sure to go to Miguel and tell him you’re doing amazing, so that you don’t get fired, in fact, you could get promoted!”

“That’s it,” Hobie growls and turns to you, grabbing the neck of his guitar and getting ready to use it. You smirk and slightly crouch, ready to jump away or towards him, based on his next move. “OKAY! Okay, we’ll help you just put the damn guitar down,” Miles says, jumping between the two of you. Hobie looks at him before looking at you with a deep frown. “I don’t need help. I just need to make sure other people are here, so I don’t murder this nitwit,” he says, tossing his guitar back so it hangs off his back again. “If anythin’, you’re helpin’ them.”

“I don’t need help either. Especially not yours. I’ll find my way around here myself,” you say, crossing your arms. He turns and offers you a smile. “Well now that you say you definitely don’t want my help, looks like I’m gonna be that friendly neighborhood Spider-Man and assist you.”

“My hero,” you say sarcastically, pushing past him and walking out of the room. He motions for the others to follow you first, and walks out last, slinking in the back. Gwen takes up the role he usually plays in showing everyone around. You nod and listen, occasionally asking a question and cracking a joke. He hates to admit it, but your jokes are actually very funny. It’s refreshing to hear deadpan, straightforward, dry comedy instead of the puns and silly jokes all the other Spider-People love to make. But he doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t even crack a smile. Just watches you.

‘Like a creep,’ you think, catching him staring at you for what feels like the 50th time. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the attention you were getting from him. Truthfully, he’s probably the most attractive person you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Such a tragedy he’s also the worst person you’ve ever had the displeasure to speak with.

“Your suit is so cool, by the way,” Miles says to you, and you give him a grin. “Thanks. Made it myself.”

“Yeah. I can tell,” you hear Hobie pipe up, and your head snaps towards him. “Because it’s so stylish, fashionable, and better than anything you could do yourself?”

“No. ‘Cause it looks like it was put together by a colorblind toddler. If you look close enough, the blacks don’t even match,” he says, smirking. Now this was a lie. All the black in your suit was a perfect shade of raven, he just knew it would piss you off. And it did. “Fuck you. At least my suit doesn’t look like a twelve-year-old who just discovered Hot Topic for the first time,” you hiss, and he scoffs. “Watch your fuckin’ mouth there, mate.”

“You watch yours, mate.”

“Okay, both of you shhhhhhh!” Gwen says, and you both look at her. “Don’t tell me what to do–”

“Stop talking like me!”

“What?! You stop talking like me!”

“Oh my God, the romantic tension is through the roof right now!” Pavitr suddenly pipes up, and now the both of you are staring at him, dark expressions on your faces. “I’d rather be eaten alive by a single piranha so it would take days until I finally succumbed to the sweet release of death,” you hiss and Hobie nods. “Finally. Somethin’ we agree on.” He turns and looks at you, and you roll your eyes at him. “Way to de-escalate, buddy,” Miles whispers to Pavitr, and Pavitr sighs as Miles walks a little faster to catch up with everyone else. “But I was being serious…”

Gwen continues to show you around, and when she finally finishes, you all are back at ‘Hobie’s common room.’ You walk back inside and sit on the tattered and broken-down couch. The way the room is decorated is kind of cool, you must admit. You’re just not a fan of the mismatched colors everywhere. And it could use a couple more decorations. Like bat skeletons. Or just live bats. That would be adorable. “Thanks for showing me around,” you thank Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr. “Not you, though,” you say to Hobie and he snorts. “Good. I wouldn’t want you to thank me for anything.”

“Why do you two hate each other so much? Didn’t you literally just meet?” Miles asks, looking exhausted from the snarky remarks coming from both of you. “We did,” you confirm. “And we don’t get along cause they don’t have any strong belief system.”

“Yes, I do! I’m just realistic, and he can’t understand that,” you say and he rolls his eyes. “Realistic, eh? I already told you I led a rebellion.”

“And I told you it doesn’t matter because everyone is shit. How many villains have you fought since this rebellion you led?”

“None of your fuckin’ business.”

“So, you’ve fought at least one. What did that rebellion get you then, huh?”

“I recommend you shut your fuckin’ mouth before I shut it for you.”

“Please, do try. I need a new skeleton for my collection,” you growl and the two of you jump at each other. Luckily, Gwen and Miles web both of you and hold you back. “That’s enough of that,” Gwen says. “I have an idea,” Miles says, “why don’t we go visit your universe, (Y/n)? Maybe then Hobie can see why you’re so… negative.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere near that place,” Hobie nearly yells. “Good. I don’t want you there anyway.”

“On second thought, I think it might be very eye-opening to see the world you grew up in. Maybe I can team up with your sinister six and put you in your place,” he spits out at you, causing you to glare at him and flip him off again. “A field trip sounds fun, especially after all this just happened. Maybe it will help the two of you lighten up,” Pavitr says, and you both roll your eyes. “Fine. You can all come. But if you step one toe out of line, Hobie–”

“What? You’ll yell at me?”

“No. I’ll torture you to the point that you would beg me for death.”

“Promise?”

“Always.”

───────────────────────────────

『 tag list 』

@casmosmoon* @khaleesihavilliard @sparklyphantom @weyrrii*

*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk x reader #spiderverse x reader #hobie brown #spiderpunk #spider-punk #spiderverse #theclashofthespiderverse

2K notes · View notes

miraclewoozi · 5 months

Text

DRIVE. - l.c

DRIVE -- or, the night you realise it's actually very hard to stay mad at the guy who shows up at your house, throwing stones at your window on a Thursday night, to try and fix something that was your mistake in the first place.

pairing : chan x fem reader. content : fwb > lovers. angst, smut (MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT), fluff. more or less in that order. they’re both dumb as hell. not explicitly put in any detail but this was written with a more 70s vibe in mind so feel free to bear that in mind when thinking of the car/tech/styles etc if u like. w/c : 7.8k warnings : lots of swearing. it’s all a big fuckin misunderstanding because i am a whore for that. weed & alcohol mentioned (neither party is drunk or high at the time of this taking place). mentions of past cheating (neither mc or chan are the cheater). some pov switching because i said so. let me know if i've forgotten anything. proofread exactly once so if there's a typo, no there isn't. SMUT TAGS UTC. notes : dino. get the fuck off my ass. i’m so serious i am not strong enough to handle the very real feelings i have for you. go away. notes 2.0 : i listened to halsey’s drive for some inspo for this & took that as the title, so feel free to give it a listen if you want!

SMUT TAGS : dom!chan. car fuckin', making out, hair pulling, grinding/dry humping, fingering, finger sucking, dick riding, marking/scratching, unprotected sex (make good choices), overstimulation, multiple orgasms. praise. chan calls reader ‘baby’ & ‘sweetheart’. he’s a BIG talker during sex (sorry).

You’re not stupid. You heard his car pull up outside your house almost an hour ago.

Since then, at random intervals ranging anywhere between thirty seconds and five minutes, there have been clinks of a thrown stone at your bedroom window, a piece of the gravel that lines your driveway. Each time, it makes your jaw tense, makes your fingers tighten in the bedsheets you pulled all the way up to your chin in a foul mood at 8pm. It’s been the same now for almost two weeks — you’ve been getting home from work, showering the day away, eating your dinner and retiring to your room as early as you possibly can. Your roommate tried to find out what was wrong around day three but you very promptly shut her down — she’s since learned that the best she’s getting out of you currently is a dismissive wave of your hand or some kind of a grunt. She joked one evening that it was like she’d adopted a teenager; you scowled so violently that she went to her room.

Hardly any of your other friends have seen anything of you, either, despite the fact that several have come knocking to check if you’re all right.

You’re very much not all right, as it happens. This is perhaps the most upset you’ve ever felt, and that’s going quite some way. The angriest, too. It’s worse than when that middle aged woman threw her entire bucket of popcorn at your head when you gave her salty instead of sweet, and you were picking kernels out of your hair for the rest of your six hour shift. It’s worse than when your nasty supervisor ‘forgot’ you were in the bathroom and ended up locking you inside the cinema overnight, because you didn’t have your own set of keys to get out and the people whose numbers you remembered weren’t answering their phones.

It’s somehow even worse than when a summer crush from a few years ago broke things off by telling you that he already had a girlfriend back home and that you were basically just a means to pass the time and get his dick wet. God, and you thought that was the lowest you could possibly be.

Here you are, though, so far beyond all those things it would be comical, if it didn’t hurt. Chan has really done a number on you, and you’re not sure how you ended up getting so emotionally involved in your situationship with him that this is what you’ve been reduced to. For days now, you’ve been swallowing back tears of frustration (both with yourself and with Chan), rolling around in your bed night on night, unable to get to sleep because all you can think about is him.

Him, and the way he sounded genuinely horrified when his friends asked about the ‘movie girl’, and he laughed, ‘God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen’. It was impressive, how quickly your face fell, in no way aided by the squealing giggles that rang through the house as a very, very drunk girl came running out of the living room and shut herself in the toilet, drowning out a chunk of the conversation you were listening in on. Somehow, it hurt even more when he went on to say ‘besides, there’s… someone else’.

And when you have managed to drift off after hours of staring at the walls and the ceiling, hearing those words on a loop on your fed up brain? Of course he’s been in your fucking dreams, too.

In your defence, all you were trying to do was use the mirror in the hallway outside the kitchen he and his friends were standing in, readjusting your top to cover the hickey that he had so kindly left on your collarbone just the night before. It wasn’t as though you sought him out to listen in; it was a coincidence. And okay, fine, maybe you should have walked away when the conversation turned to the topic of Chan’s love life. Maybe you should have not crept closer and held your breath to be able to hear them all better. Maybe, even, you should have stayed around long enough to ask what he meant by it then and there instead of hopping in a taxi and going home without saying goodbye to anyone.

Hindsight really is a beautiful thing.

Never gonna happen. Well, Chan seemed quite happy to ignore the fact that it already had happened. Several times. At least four of those being in the very car currently on the street outside your home. The car he’s used on countless occasions to drive you up to lovers’ lookouts in the dead of night, letting one of his many mixtapes play through the tinny speakers, where he’d kiss you breathless and cradle your face between his palms, as his fingers would delicately explore beneath your clothes, as his broad shoulders would slot between your thighs, as his hips rol–

And maybe you aren’t stupid, but Chan seems determined to prove that he sure as hell is. He came to pick you up from work the day after the party like nothing had happened, and couldn’t figure out why you said you would rather walk home in the rain than get in with him and stormed away without any further explanation. Then, he showed up on your doorstep on the morning of your day off with your favourite coffee and a breakfast bagel, asking if you could talk. He still didn’t realise what he’d done to upset you, so you slammed the door in his face. Finally, just earlier today, he ran after you in the mall, persistent as you’ve ever known him to be, and laid a hand on your shoulder when you didn’t turn around to just the sound of his voice calling your name.

You pushed him off so hard he almost fell over.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” You had barked, shrugging your shoulders to try and realign your jacket. “I don’t want to talk to you. What’s not clicking?”

His face resembled that of a scolded pet when he took a step back and frowned at you. “I just wanted to–”

“I don’t care what you want, Chan,” you spat. “Give it up. I’m done.”

You could see the desperation swimming in his eyes as he scrambled for what to say and your heart felt like it was being weighed down all the way into your stomach. You supposed that was the part of you that was causing all this ache in the first place, and further that it was to blame for your current state of misery. But you steeled yourself and stood your ground nonetheless. He wasn’t going to win you over with puppy eyes and a pout. Not this time.

In his silence, you only then noticed how hard your breaths were coming, each slow and long but still dangerously unsteady. You lowered your voice, top lip curling at him as you muttered, “You’re embarrassed of me enough to lie to your friends? Fine. I don’t give a–… but shit, next time, tell a girl that to her face instead of behind her fucking back.”

It’s been seven hours, and you keep replaying the last thing he said to you as you stormed away (how his voice got quieter when he realised you weren’t turning back; how he sounded so hoarse, so sorry).

‘I’m sorry if I hurt you - I— I never meant to.’

If. If. If. Were you not making it completely fucking obvious that he had, most definitely, hurt you? Part of your brain is even now starting to go down the route that he’s doing this on purpose, that it’s some twisted sort of damage control, that he hopes maybe if he plays dumb for long enough, you’ll forget what you were mad about or maybe start to second guess what you heard. But if that’s what he thinks, he obviously doesn’t know you very well at all. That’s never going to happen.

Hell, for someone you were being so careful to keep in the appropriate lane in your head, Chan really has you thinking yourself in circles. You’re sick to your back teeth of him, and his stupid voice and his stupid smile and his stupid –

Clink.

Stupid. Fucking. Stones.

A groan loud enough to definitely catch the attention of your roommate sounds from deep within your chest at this interruption to your spiral and you finally, finally concede. Whatever argument he’s so clearly longing to have at 11 o’clock on a Thursday night? Fine. He can have it. If it means he backs off for good, you’ll give him his one last ruck.

You pull the window open none too gently and lean enough through it that Chan comes into view. He isn’t even looking up, you realise, too busy sifting through the driveway trying to find his next little projectile, and you hiss his name to get his attention. It startles him so much that he drops the indiscernible bundle in his right hand. He blindly scrambles to pick it up, those big, earnest eyes gazing at you as if you’re floating in midair before him.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask him, trying not to raise your voice too loud but at the same time, needing to generate enough volume for him to hear. He holds the bundle in both hands, now, and they catch the light of the lamp by your front door. Flowers, you register, squinting to try and make them out, your brows furrowing so much that your forehead hurts.

Black dahlias.

You choke back a laugh. Ah, the joys of fooling around with the son of a florist. Are they all so damn dramatic? (Or does he just know that they’re your favourites?)

Whichever it is, you tell yourself that’s not going to work. You won’t let it. Through gritted teeth, you say, “go away. I’m serious. I’ll call the cops on you.”

He shakes his head, begging as he steps just a little closer so his face is more visible in the amber light too. “Please–” he hurries, biting his bottom lip. “Please, don’t– just… tell me what I did. I want to make it right. Please.”

He never begs like this. In all the time you’ve known him, you swear Chan has said ‘please’ to you fewer times than you could count on your fingers. Which is by no means a bad thing — that’s just always been the very comfortable nature of your friendship, and later, the -with-benefits tag that you ended up sticking on the end.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose and fighting not to shiver in the cold nighttime air. Note to self: don’t do a Romeo and Juliet in the middle of the fucking winter without layering up, first. “What does it even matter?”

“What do you mean, what does it matter?” He asks, looking down at the bunch of flowers in his hands, then back at you. “I-... you know I’d never hurt you. Not on purpose. Please, just… if I did something–”

“There’s someone else,” you echo, fed up with his pretending. He’s a fair actor, you’ll give him that – he might even have been able to convince you, if you hadn’t already heard the other half of this tale he’s doing his best to spin in his favour.

His face screws up, thinking he’s misheard. It’s his turn not to understand now. If you’re telling him you’ve met someone else, he’s got questions, because you’d promised to be open and honest with each other if that ever happened, so that you could call things off and go back to being just friends without it becoming a big deal. That was always supposed to be a calm conversation, not… whatever this is. You talked about it, right at the start. But… those are the words you’re saying, aren’t they? And why would you be mad at him if you were the one whose circumstances had changed?

“What?” he asks, finally. “What do you mean?”

“God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen. Besides, there’s… someone else!” You raise your voice without really meaning to, before swallowing hard and glancing back inside your room. “You said that, Chan. Don’t piss me off by coming here and pretending like you didn’t.”

Chan starts to look like he’s trying to figure out an algebraic equation in his head while only having half the required information; his eyes fall down to the gravel, his lips move without any sound coming out of them, his features tighten until there are definite lines between his eyebrows. Then, it clicks. The lightbulb moment. He slaps one hand to his face and shakes his head furiously, and you just know he’s going to wake up with an ache in his neck tomorrow because of it.

“Oh fuck,” he curses. “No, no, no, no, no – that’s not–”

“What did I just say?” You spit down at him. “Don’t piss me off–”

“Listen!” He shouts, and you gesture with your hand for him to lower his voice, interrupting his flow of thought and rendering him silent for a moment. “Fuck, please. Come down here and talk to me. That’s not what you think it is.”

You’re in every mind to slam your window shut and leave him out there in the cold. It would work if you got out your headphones to drown out the sounds of him trying to get your attention, which you have absolutely no doubt in your mind that he would do. And maybe then he’d get the hint; maybe then he would understand that you’re not just some pushover who he can just pick up and play with when it suits him.

But he’s still holding those fucking flowers like they’re a lifeline, still looking up at you without a single lick of anger on his face. Not stress at having been discovered, which you would have expected him to be swimming in right about now. He looks… kind of beside himself, as if nothing could possibly be worse than what you’re threatening to do.

All this, for you? It just doesn’t make sense.

“Please,” he says again, quieter, weaker. For the first time, you pick up on the hint of a shiver in his voice, and you swallow. Whether you’re gulping back your pride, or your resolve, or the last remnants of your sensibility, you don’t know.

Does he deserve for you to hear him out? You’re not sure.

But does he deserve to be stuck out in the cold in just his stupid leather jacket and a pair of jeans?

With regret, you think, no. He doesn’t.

All you give him is a scowl before you disappear from view entirely, pulling the window closed and drawing your curtains again. Faster than you think you ever have before, you throw on a sweatshirt over your pyjamas, grab your keys, and hurry down the stairs as silently as you possibly can.

He’s stood in exactly the same place when you edge outside and pull the door closed behind you. Up-close, you can see the tiredness on his face: this is a man who has exhausted himself in worry, you think, and yet he still smiles a little when he sees you in full. He still holds the flowers out for you to take. He still purses his lips and blows out a stuttered cloud of air. Nervous, and not in the way you think he ought to be. So when you walk straight past him and don’t take the dahlias out of his hands, instead standing by his car and waiting for him to unlock it for you, you start to feel overwhelmingly guilty.

Chan is many, many… many things. But he really isn’t this good of a performer, no matter what you’ve been telling yourself all week. For God’s sake, why is it so much easier to be angry at him when he’s not standing right in front you?

You slip into his passenger side as he fumbles to set the flowers down on his backseat again, and he joins you up front just a few moments later. His hands are shaking when he sets the keys into the ignition. His whole body is. When you cast a real look over at him, the tips of his fingers are pale and his lips are lacking their usual rosy, pink hue. Your own teeth are chattering despite only having been truly exposed to the cold air for a matter of seconds; you dread to think how frozen he must be.

“Are we driving?” You ask to break the silence. Since he got into the car and fiddled with the heating settings to try and warm things up a little, he hasn’t said a word. It’s awkward. It’s horrible. You already miss the comfortable way you’ve been able to sit for hours together, barely talking, just watching the lights of the city and the cars travelling through it.

You already miss him. Which is a strange thought, seeing as he’s only about ten inches away.

“If– if you want,” he says, stuttering through the frost in his lungs. “We can go—...”

“Drive, Chan,” you say. It’s not just because you want him to stop falling over his words – which, to be fair, you do. Chan has always been very confident, carrying himself with the air of someone who knows exactly their worth. It’s one of the things you treasure about him. So this? Is fucking weird. But a big part of it is that you know his car will heat up faster if it’s in motion, and right now, you think maybe he’s at risk of losing a finger or two if he doesn’t get some circulation back.

He steps on the gas and the car pulls away from your home. It’s the first time you’ve ever been in his car without there being some sort of music playing, whether that’s historically just been the radio or a tape he put together with the help of one of his older friends. (The tapes that always had your first initial on them. The tapes that he never failed to ask your opinions on when he dropped you home – as if he’d compiled them with only you in mind.) The silence feels jarring and you can hear every rumble of the engine, every squeal of the brakes he definitely needs to get serviced.

But the car does warm through, and you sigh out relief as the bones in your hands move a little easier, as your fingers curl and uncurl to less resistance from your taut muscles. Chan feels it, too; his body relaxes, his breaths stop coming out in fractions, his face gets some colour back. The timing feels a little less awful when you finally say, “go on, then.”

Chan glances over at you as he drives down an unlit street. Only for a second, like he’s checking you’re still there, before his eyes train back on the road. He’s going to one of your favourite spots. It isn’t a lookout – it’s somewhere completely shut off from the rest of town, hidden by the trees near the railway tracks, somewhere you’ve never had to worry about being seen or heard. Maybe he’s anticipating a screaming match. Maybe he’s expecting something else. Maybe, even, he just cares about how much you love it there.

“I didn’t know you heard that conversation,” he starts, sheepishly. You want to roll your eyes, reach over and thump him, ask if that makes what he said okay, but you don’t. You stay looking out the front windscreen too. Waiting. “I… all right. I was out of my ass drunk.”

You click your tongue, pressing it afterwards against the inside of your cheek, but again, you stay quiet.

“I don’t think you heard what you thought you heard, though,” he goes on to say. “‘Cause– ‘cause it wasn’t…”

But you can only be quiet for so long in the face of this mess. Especially when he’s apparently working towards a doctorate in beating around the fucking bush. “I heard you tell your friends that it was never gonna happen with ‘movie girl’.”

Chan’s face brightens, and you can’t help but wonder what on Earth is wrong with this man. Why does he find that funny? Why is his chest moving like he’s trying not to laugh?

“And you… thought you were movie girl,” he says, nodding. “Okay. Okay – shit. I’m sorry.”

You look at him properly, now, as he indicates to the right and takes the turn that leads him down the lane to your spot. “What are you talking about?”

“I get it,” he says. “You work at the–... but you’re not movie girl. Not that movie girl.”

“Stop talking in riddles before I get out of this car, Chan. It’s too late for this shit.”

He holds a hand up as if to apologise and settles back against the head cushion, suddenly looking far more comfortable than he did thirty seconds ago. He clears his throat, running his tongue over his lips, before sucking in a breath and letting himself go on.

“You’re not movie girl,” he says again, successfully clarifying nothing. “There’s this chick I used to dance with — years back, before… God, when we were in school, like, forever ago. She moved away when we were sixteen.” As he talks, he reaches your destination and sets the car into park, before he unfastens his seatbelt and turns to face you. You do the same, shifting your weight to tuck one leg up beneath you, and with your undivided attention, he goes on. “I ran into her recently. She’s back in town now, I guess. It was like, two weeks—?”

“I’m gonna be all-over grey by the time you finish telling this story,” you interrupt, raising an eyebrow. “Can you please give me the short version?”

“Not if you want it to make sense,” Chan shrugs. Begrudgingly, you let him keep talking. “She said it would be cool to hang out, maybe catch a movie or do lunch or something — and look, I didn’t know she was asking me on a date, I thought she was just being nice, y’know? Trying to be friends, but… you weren’t working that day, it was when you had that… that stomach thing going on? And I brought you the soup my mom made, remember?”

You nod; of course you remember. At the time, you wondered why on Earth this grown man’s mother was making you food — you asked yourself whether he’d told her about you, or if she thought it was for someone else. In the end you decided he must have just been bringing you leftovers. But you’d been too worn out to start asking questions; instead, after you’d eaten, you let yourself fall asleep with your head in his lap as he patted your hair and hummed his favourite songs. You hadn’t let yourself think too deeply about it since.

“Anyway. We were sat watching the movie and she, uh,” he glances down at his lap, tips of his ears burning pink. “She put her hand, sorta, on my thigh? And then I was like, shit, I didn’t read this right, like… at all. So I moved it off and she took the hint — and after it ended I said to her, you know, I was flattered, right? But I wasn’t interested. And then I went home and got that soup and—… yeah.”

He came straight to see you. To look after you. Hell, you didn’t even fool around that night; in retrospect, it was all uncharacteristically domestic. And slowly, the pieces you’ve spent days struggling to fit together start to fall into place. It makes sense. The only question that remains is do you believe him?

Well, tell a lie.

There is one more.

“You said there was someone else,” you add quietly.

You’ll die before you admit it, but this is secretly the part that was hurting you the most.

You can’t even look him in the eye, right now; your cheeks are burning with the embarrassment of even caring. As much as you want to tell yourself that the only reason you’re pissed is just because of the dishonesty, you can only stare at yourself in the mirror and point-blank lie so many times. Someone else. You hate it.

Just the thought of him seeing somebody else, taking them out on dates, smiling at them, laughing with them, kissing them the way he kisses you, touching —

A shiver runs the length of you and you cross your arms, thrusting your sleeve-covered hands under your armpits.

Chan takes a deep breath in and exhales it slowly, like he’s blowing smoke out of his lungs. “There is,” he admits, nodding slowly, avoiding your eyes, too. “There is someone else.”

“When were you going to tell me?” You ask.

Chan doesn’t respond straight away. You don’t notice, but eventually his eyes do land back at you; it’s only when he clears his throat to get your attention that you look at him long enough to realise he’s quite deliberately staring. His lips are lifted on the right in a lopsided smile, his eyes soft as he reaches across the seats towards you. You stare blankly down at his hand until he wiggles his fingers, and you think briefly that this is the most fucked up ending to a situationship you’ve ever been through.

You drop one of your hands down and let him hold it, though, staring at his face as his thumb brushes over your knuckles and you wait for him to finally say it out loud. For him to announce that he’s fallen for somebody and that he can’t see you anymore. To put the nail in the coffin. Don’t tell me their name, you think. I don’t want to know anything about them. Please, just don’t.

“For someone so frustratingly smart, you’re really fucking dumb,” Chan says, finally, swallowing around his words and squeezing your fingers. Whatever stoic expression you had forced onto your face at the start of this conversation dissolves into irritation and you snatch your hand away from him again, letting his own fall and collide with a thunk against the handbrake.

“Oh, sorry that I didn’t realise you were sneaking around behind my back when that’s the one thing we promised we wouldn’t do,” you snap. “God. The only stupid thing I’ve done here is get involved with you in the f—”

“You’re the someone else.”

Oh.

“I’m—?”

“You.”

The admission hangs heavily between you, as does your nonsense, unfinished insult. Neither of you really know what to do with yourselves except sit perfectly still and try to somehow deal with your increasingly dry throats. When Chan moves, it’s only to turn down the heating dial when his cheeks burn a bit too hot; you appreciate it, in part due to the bead of sweat currently running down your back, but you don’t say so.

“You could have started with that,” you say weakly, wrestling with all your strength to keep even some of your cards close to your chest. It’s not working though. Your attempt to conceal your elation is a bit like throwing a single leaf on top of a bison and calling it camouflage.

Chan commits to laughing, finally, your sentiment breaking him too. Now, you do crack that smile, albeit mostly just at the sound that comes from him. It’s bright and airy, lighting his whole face up as he drops all the way back and leans against his car door, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I was trying to build to a moment! It’s not my fault you hit every branch of the anti-romantic tree on your way down.”

“I am not anti-romantic,” you scoff in protest.

“Yes — you are.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“No, you’re just an idiot.”

“Says she who didn’t realise her fuck-buddy had feelings for about six months, Jesus.”

“Chan—” You start, your voice laced with a playful warning.

“Here I was thinking I was making it completely obvious,” he rambles on.

“— oh my God, just shut up and kiss me.”

“Dropping hints left and r—” … “Huh?”

He stops short a fraction of a second after you finish, stumped and silent, frozen with everything but a little buffering symbol above his forehead. Kiss me, you said. Chan, […] just shut up and kiss me. All right, you’ve asked him to do that before, but not like this. Not as if you’ll wither away should you not get a taste of his lips this instant. It takes him some time to process it, but he does move in first, eventually. The way he always does, closing the distance between you like he’s been shot out of a cannon, one hand either side of your face, crashing feverishly against your mouth.

Every now and again, he’ll be happy to let you take charge and set the pace: mostly just if he’s feeling lazy or especially generous. Tonight isn’t one of those times, however. He holds you and kisses you possessively, like you’re his, like this is how he finally gets to lay claim on you, licking between your gasp-parted lips after he moans straight into your mouth. He’s spearmint sweet, edged with that one cherry flavoured chapstick he stockpiles as he grins up against you, rolling his body fluidly with every separation for air, every changing angle.

He pulls your sweatshirt up over your head and throws it down into the footwell on the passenger side, straight away hurrying to kiss you hungrily again, hands cupping your neck. His tongue is in your mouth once more, there’s no way you could possibly differentiate your breaths from his: you’re one, in every way you can be with your clothes still on, but it’s not enough.

“Want you,” you whimper as he nips at your bottom lip and pleasure rushes through you from head to toe.

“You’ve got me,” he groans with his eyes still closed. “I’m all yours.”

“No,” you insist, whimpering when his cute little nose drags across your cheek until he’s pressing hot kisses to your jawline. “I— fuck—” He suckles on the sweet spot below your ear and your spine tingles, head tilting to give him better access. “Chan, I want you.”

Chan settles back from you, his usually bright, sparkling eyes now darkened with desire. All he gives you is a singular glance sideways, but you know exactly what he’s suggesting. You nod, breathing deep, biting the inside of your cheek; he turns off the headlights and it’s all systems go.

There’s a rush to scramble into the back of the car. Chan takes the keys out the ignition and climbs through the gap in the seats; you opt for the less hazardous approach of getting out of the vehicle entirely and re-entering it instead. Not that it bothers him — no sooner is the door closed behind you, Chan’s hands are on your hips and he pulls you on top of him, your leg knocking the dahlias off the leather and onto the floor in the process. You gasp and glance down but he averts your attention with two fingers under your chin, guiding you to look back at him.

“What? You think this is the last time I’ll bring you flowers?” He asks, capturing your lips as he leans up to you; at the same time, his hands drop low and he starts to slide open the buttons down the front of your pyjama shirt. “Baby, m’gonna get you so many more.”

You sigh at the affectionate name, at the change in its use; until now, Chan has only called you baby while he’s buried inside you, bruising you inside and out with sharp thrusts and rough-gripping fingers. But as much as you can feel him growing hard against the inside of your thigh while you try to get comfortable, one knee planted either side of his hips, you can’t help but feel as if this time, it means something different.

(He’s had feelings for six months: it always meant what it does, now. You know that, deep down.)

Somewhere in amongst the never-ending sloppy kisses and constantly travelling hands, you manage to strip both his jacket and T-shirt off him and you’re pressed bare-chest-to-bare-chest with Chan, feeling every little hitch of his breath in his lungs, every thump of his heartbeat, every tiny increase in the temperature of his skin. Your desperate search for friction between your legs has you rolling your hips down against his hard-on, drawing grunts and making him squeeze at your tits when you rock against him the right way. His head eventually drops to your chest and he replaces one hand with his mouth, freeing his fingers to slide down the front of your pyjama bottoms.

It’s honestly rarer for Chan to get straight to the point than it is for him to tease you a little first, so when he flattens his palm against you and brushes his fingertips over your already aching clit, you let out a squeak of surprise. He shivers, releasing your nipple from between his teeth for a moment; once he’s collected a little more arousal to ease the friction, he continues to rub at the bud, slowly building the pressure inside you.

“No panties?” He asks, struggle clear in the roughness of his voice.

“I was in bed,” you gasp, eyes rolling back. It’s for the best that it happens out of pleasure, really, because you’re not sure you’d be able to stop yourself rolling them in exasperation at his remark otherwise. You shuffle a little, lifting yourself up on your knees more, breath hitching when he uses the newly granted space to dip his hand lower and press a finger against your hole. “Please, Chan — this can’t be comfy— just…”

“S’fine” he argues, shaking his head, despite the fact that the angle of his wrist is actually kind of painful, right now. The truth is that he can’t bring himself to care: not when he can smell your fabric softener on the shirt still hanging off your shoulders, the shampoo in your freshly washed hair, all so pretty mixed with the damp scent of your desire. Not when you clench around him as he slides his finger in and out of your cunt. Not when he could get you to soak all the way through these pretty satin pants.

Your arms snake around his neck as he dips a second finger inside you to join the first. The way your thighs tighten around his hips could — should — be embarrassing, the fact his sturdy lap holds you open enough for your pussy to be toyed with even more so. You almost always do this too music, too — for what might be the first time ever, you can hear every single wet sound your body makes, every hitch of your own breath, every grunt he gives even though he’s not the one being pleasured.

You don’t even realise how you’re rocking up and down against his hand until Chan licks from the base of your neck to your jaw, smirking over your pulse point and says, “gonna ride my cock this good too, baby?”

And if it was anyone else talking to you like this, you would be embarrassed. Mortified, at being so needy you’re here doing all the work for him. At the cry you give as he splits and scissors his fingers to stretch you out. But instead? You feel another rush of arousal drool out of you as you press your nails into his shoulders and nod, bouncing harder and watching how his bicep tenses up solid with the effort of keeping his arm steady for you to use.

“Wanna,” you gasp. “Want it so bad, Chan—”

Despite your pleas for this to move further, when his hand pulls back out of the elastic of your waistband, you feel like you could throttle him. The urge ebbs away when his soaked fingers press to your lips and he quirks an eyebrow at you, though — you end up suckling them clean, licking up every trace of your own slick. You lock eyes with him as you do, slumping on your thighs so your drenched core sits right over his tweaking length, the seam of your pants giving just enough friction to your clit for it to feel good as you grind down on him again.

“Get those off,” he instructs, trying to sound hard and dominant. Which would work, perhaps, if his voice didn’t crack in the middle of the sentence. “Now.”

Even though you’re overcome with a need to tease him, the desire you have to be split open on his length outweighs it, so you do as you’re told and hold it in for later. It’s not easy, but you manage to manipulate yourself in his lap to work the satin down your thighs and past your knees. He helps you tug them the rest of the way past your ankles and feet, shoves them onto the floor — Chan’s hands settle back on your hips and yours skim down his stomach at the same time, fingers grazing over the little hairs that trail from his bellybutton down into his jeans.

“Can I?” You ask, playing already with his belt buckle.

He hums assent and you slip it all the way open, tugging as he moves his hips underneath you so you can pull it free from the loops. Between you, you manage to get his jeans unfastened, to pull both them and his boxer shorts down over his ass and to his knees; finally, fucking finally, his cock sits pretty and leaking and free between your stomach and his. It’s getting cold in the car now the heating isn’t on, but you’re already burning up in anticipation for him to ruin you; the way his abs ripple as he takes his shaft into his hand and strokes himself a couple of times to prepare tells you he’s in the same boat.

It’s like clockwork, from here. You shift into position as easily as you settle into bed after a long day. Chan rubs his tip through your folds, feels the warmth of you and hisses through his teeth with fluttering eyes. Just like always. This never changes. He can’t ever get enough of that first feeling of his cock against your pussy: it’s like the first hit of a blunt, like the first sip of a cold beer, the first full-body stretch early in the morning. He’s sure it’s what arriving at the gates of heaven must feel like.

You sink down onto him slowly, fluttering around his tip and stilling to give you both a moment to get used to the feeling. He’s thick inside you. Thicker than his pretty, dainty fingers have ever been able to stretch you enough for. Even as wet as you are, you still need to suck a deep breath into your lungs before you can relax your hips further and let your heat swallow him all the way to his base.

Chan’s head is tipped back in pleasure, he’s biting his lip at the sting of your nails pressing hard into the back of his neck. He loves it, though — loves how the pain shoots in waves down his spine, how it tingles in his brain, how he knows you need to anchor yourself this way or you’ll lose control. He kneads at your ass as you sit against his thighs, listening to you whimpering at how deep he is inside you.

“So fucking tight around me still,” Chan groans, focusing all his willpower into keeping his hips down on the leather beneath him. “Shit, baby — you feel so good…” His neck softens and his head drops forward again as you start to move, rising and falling over and over. He kisses your throat and down to your collarbones while you work up to a rhythm, sliding his palms up your back, hugging you close to him.

He isn’t even the one putting in the hard work, but within minutes of this, his soft, fluffy hair clings to his forehead. A light sheen of sweat makes him radiant under the moonlight breaking through the trees. He’s breathing heavily, the top of his toned chest painted a soft pink — you don’t think he could possibly look prettier. Not until he cups your jaw with his hands and you look upwards: you land on his smiling face, those plush, swollen lips, his devilish but sweetly glittering eyes. The sight of him, looking at you like you’re some kind of Goddess, makes your pussy tighten and your tiring hips stutter. You slip your pyjama top all the way off your arms and curl your fingers into his hair, meeting him in an open-mouthed kiss, through which you’re both just beaming.

You’ve never kissed him this much. When it all started out, you sort of had a rule against it, but now? Neither of you can stop. As he starts to fuck up into you, taking the reins and letting your burning thighs rest, he keeps your face steady with his hands and freely allows his lips to slide against yours. It’s not refined. It can’t be. Not with how hard and fast his movements quickly become, not with the onslaught of curses and moans and babbled praise coming from the both of you. One particularly sharp thrust makes you yelp out a squeak of his name and he just swallows it down, making a point to keep aiming for— and hitting— that same spot inside you. You’re a mess.

He could do this all night. When your orgasm bubbles inside you and he starts pinching at one of your nipples, sending you over the edge, he’s nowhere near finished. Even though your cunt massages at his length, throbbing and pulsing through your climax; even though your voice is so high by now that only dogs can hear you; even though you nearly collapse on top of him with almost all your weight in his lap, and he has to work twice as hard to keep this going, he barely slows. He definitely doesn’t stop.

“You can gimme one more, right sweetheart?” He asks, grunting into your neck. “Always feels so fucking good when you come.” You choke up an ‘mhm’, to which he responds by slipping a hand between your bodies and down to where you’re connected. His thumb presses against your clit again — not moving, just applying enough pressure to make you stutter when you say his name.

Your thighs are still twitching when you try to lift yourself a little, try to meet his movements as he chases his orgasm too. The “problem” with Chan is that his stamina is otherworldly. You couldn’t keep up if you wanted to.

“Relax,” he says, tensing his jaw, doing the opposite himself. “Fuck — lie down.”

It’s pretty cramped and hard to move, but you lift yourself off him and only slightly lament at the sudden emptiness between your legs. There isn’t time to get too upset, however: moments after you get comfortable on your back, Chan shoves his jeans the rest of the way down and stands with one knee planted on the seats, lifting one of your ankles up to rest it on his shoulder. He slips back inside you easily then, gripping around your calf to keep you both steady. From the word go, his pace is relentless. You scrabble around for something to hold onto but the entire car seems to melt away; you ball your hands into fists at your sides instead, your eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“Mm-mm. Look at me,” Chan hums, tightening his grip on your leg. “Wanna see those pretty eyes.”

You obey, opening your lids to look up at him while he pounds into you hard enough to make the car shake. Over, and over, and over, and over. Rougher. Faster. For how long? Who even knows. All you’re truly aware of is how good it feels. How the windows grow foggy with the steam of your laboured breaths. How his sweat mingles with your own.

When his fingers on the other hand get reacquainted with your clit, when he bites down on his bottom lip, when his thrusts start to get messier and more erratic and the veins in his arms start to bulge out, you know he’s getting close. He doesn’t need to tell you out loud. The smirk he wears speaks for itself.

“Where d’you want it, baby?” He asks you, pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle.

“In— mmh, in-…side me—” you stammer, hips jolting as you near your second orgasm to match his first. “Please, Chan — want it all…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah—”

Well, he must’ve been holding himself back something spectacular, because a few thrusts later you watch all of his muscles contract as he tips over the edge, and you go hurtling with him. It’s all so much. All your nerve endings feel like they’re on fire and your vision starts to blur at the edges; it’s not long before you have to close your eyes to shut one of your overworked senses out, completely. Your muscles are sore. Your throat hurts. Even your lungs ache.

God, he hasn’t gone that hard in so long, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can barely speak — it’s going to take you a week to recover from this, minimum.

He stills deep inside you, feeling his cock throb with the last pumps of his release. Your leg slips off his shoulder and your foot lands down with a thud onto the car’s (thankfully clean) floor; he bends forward to kiss you, still breathing heavily against your lips. You’ve come over completely boneless and reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair again feels like running a marathon at sprint pace. You’d fall asleep right here, right now, if you could, but with sweat cooling rapidly against your skin, you know that’s probably not up there as one of your finest ideas.

“You really think getting involved with me was stupid?” Chan asks, nudging your nose with the tip of his own. He’s never been less serious than this in his entire life, which stops you feeling too bad when you lightly slap at his rock solid chest and try to push him off you.

“Yes,” you lie, attempting to reach to the ground for your pyjama shirt while he grips your chin and attacks you with tiny little pecks all over your face. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

(Chan chuckles to himself and thinks that he’s quite happy to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, really. He can stay that way, as long as you promise never to stop.)

thank you so much for reading. i hope you enjoyed it - likes, feedback, comments, reblogs are all so appreciated.<3

#dino smut #lee chan smut #dino x reader #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt x reader #kpop smut #j writes.#*#this description is ass we're gonna pretend it isnt. ok THANKS bye <3

861 notes · View notes

celestialwhoree · 2 months

Text

𝐒𝐚𝐲 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧 𝐆𝐨 - 𝐓𝐰𝐨

Pt2 to this Nik x Hyperfem!reader because I couldn't leave it alone and it's been gnawing at the back of my brain all day

You don't hear the first knock at the door. It's no surprise with the way you're wrapped up in the blissful comfort of your own little world. Being able to tune out to the soft sound of your playlist, the feeling of gently applying your favourite lotions and creams, the moisturiser you'd spent far too much on that leaves you smelling like coconuts and caramel. The second knock snaps you from the pretty pink haze you've drifted into, sending you bounding down the stairs, not even bothering to check the peephole as you fling open the front door.

It's him. He has your plate in his hand, the sharlotka plate, and not only is it clean, but it bears a slightly odd, misshapen cake. You look up at him with hopeful confusion. "I brought you back the plate." He states, as though you're blind, or just stupid. "I can see that." Your attempt at a dismissive, uninterested tone, falls entirely flat when you look up at him like an eager puppy. "I also made cake." Said cake looks distinctly like an attempt at a Victoria Sponge, although you're not quite sure.

Under his scrutinising look, you can't help but rock on your feet in your impractical little shoes. He barely manages to refrain from scoffing at the sight of them. "Would you like to come in?" Nikto's eyes hone on the way you open the door just slightly wider in a tentative invitation.

Barbie would recoil at how girly your house is. It's pink and frilly, gauzy with satiny ribbons and bows on everything. He feels so incredibly wrong here, like he'll stain your fluffy white carpets with blood, darken the soft lamplight with the shadows that cling relentlessly to his back. "Would you like some tea?" You mumble, indicating a nervous hand to your pink smeg kettle as though to prove the authenticity of your offer. "Do you have Russian Earl Grey?" "Uh -" You mutter as you root through your cupboards, filled with all sorts of fruity infusions. "I only have regular."

The two of you sit quietly around your dining table and whilst you sit forking pieces of crumbly, somehow simultaneously soggy, Victoria sponge into your mouth, Nikto sits there trying to find a way to drink his tea without showing you his face. "I am sorry." He murmurs softly, having stewed for the last week about how foolish he'd been in treating you so dismissively. It hasn't helped that he's fucked his hand every night for the past seven days at the image of you and your silly little doll clothes in his head. "If you would still like to, I would like to take you for a meal."

Temporarily fixing their situation!! like using pink glitter glue on the cracked hull of a ship!! 💕

#cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #Nikto #cod nikto #Nikto x reader #nikto x y/n #nikto x f!reader #nikto x you #call of duty nikto #mwii nikto #celestialwhoree #say goodnight n go

216 notes · View notes

k2ntoss · 2 months

Note

Omg omg omg

Pls do “shit— do that again” and “this is so wrong” with dickie grayson pretty please

(The second prompt gives enemies to lovers vibes SO MUCH, so if it’s included the better.)

— ❤️‍🩹 xx

SECOND ANON WITH AN EMOJI, LET'S FUCKING CELEBRATE!! first of all, thank you so much for this request, i have an idea buzzing into my head and if i don't post it i'll go insane (i'm already insane) and second... i'm listening to the weeknd so yeah....

“do that again- shit, just like that, right there.” + "this is wrong... so wrong." (plus enemies to lovers trope omg yes please!!!)

dick has never been known to be a bad detective, his partners adore him and so does every kid and person he helps, he does his job so well everyone is aware that whenever he's got a new case he will be at it all the time but there is just one person that doesn't really agrees with that, dick knows it and it gets on his nerves because it's always just his cases and investigations the ones that you observe and deny before they reach the court.

he really hated the moment he had to go present his case to the prosecutor, mostly when it was you who was assigned to it and what's worse it's that dick knows that you take it personal because there's no way on earth you let mobs or criminals to pay for justice and that is pretty much clear when you have an amazing percentage of cases won where criminals end up getting what they deserve.

"you have to be joking," at this point is almost a routine. dick arrives to your office with a folder filled with documents and reports from the officers and his own, a box full of evidence he picked up and sent to check to the labs, all the signed paperwork and the hope that you won't send him back to re-do all the work from zero "everything is in that folder!"

"detective, would you lower your damn voice?" you'd ask him, the snark on your tone is upsetting and dick has to take a deep breath to cool down a bit "there are several forms you haven't filled, how do you expect me to work like this?" and it was true, paperwork was important even if everyone hated doing it.

"you can't return the whole investigation for a couple of stupid papers! it's a big case, if you return it to the station we'll have to let the criminals go because the time runs up." dick is starting to lose every trace of patience and good will he has, hands gripping the fabric of his trousers and his hands clench a little more when you look at him, unamused and with any intention to help him.

"i can't help you if you don't bring everything in order, not to say that there are so many things that don't make sense on your files," you say, reading through some pages "this doesn't looks like a real detective's work, how do you expect me to do anything with this?" you leave the folder down, looking at him with your arms crossed over your chest and leaning back on the chair behind your desk.

dick is about to scream, you're telling him his work sucks and sending him back to do it all over again when he is sure there are cases pilling up back in the station but he has to hold it back. it's weird that the person he despises the most isn't some villain he fights at night but a prosecutor that he desperately wants to shut up for once and for all.

you are way too cocky for your own good and since the first case you dismised from his hands he has wanted to show you why he had the reputation he had, he's fighting his rage right now because he knew that in this case you were right and it would be stupid to keep pushing but he was too stubborn and a little too lost on how much he liked to get in your nerves.

"there's no way you can't help me with that case," he says and dick's voice is now an indicator of how upset he is feeling, not only because of you dismissing his work but also because this time he wasn't right (not that he has been before, he always forgot a paper or the whole background of a piece of evidence because he was too distracted on thinking how jolly the moment would be when you'd had to accept his work) "you just don't want to do it and that's bullshit, you should be dismissed from all the station's cases because this is personal."

"detective grayson," you warn him, if it was on your hands you'd help him just as you always tried to help but as a prosecutor you had to stick to the rules and make sure your coworkers did just the same "i'd suggest you to lower your tone and keep your emotions in check, the fact that i can't work with this investigation it's not my fault." you said, letting the folder fall back on your desk before standing up.

there went the last string of patience and good will dick had, he stood up but stayed still until you started walking your way to the door and he'd be lying if your figure wasn't distracting him a little bit with the way that greenish button up shirt hung a little loose on your shoulders but gave a hint of your figure. he had to shake his thoughts away and as soon as he saw your hand reaching for the door he darted towards you, pushing the door closed shut again and standing a little too close to you.

dick is hovering over you, looking down as his eyes fix on yours and there's no way to hide the surprise of the sudden outburst that causes you to flinch a little.

"you think so high of yourself, y/n," dick hisses as his eyes narrow, he leans in closer and it sends a spark that danced between anger and pure expectation from what he could do "you think that you make the fucking calls and that is just so upsetting, i wish i could just bring you down from that cloud and show you just what you are." he points at you and it's distracting because dick grayson has always managed to keep his anger in check.

"keep your emotions in check, detective" it was another warning, it came throught gritted teeth and narrowed eyes as you stand still ready to snap back at him on the first chance "am i the one that thinks too high of themself? let me break it to you, grayson, at least i'm trying to do my job as i have to."

the banter between you two has always been a little more snarky and less heated, not to be taken so serious because what you wanted to do was to push dick to do his absolute best so you could also help people to be safe out on the streets, living their lives but this time was just different because there was something else fueling the words.

there's a spark that ignites inside of dick as soon as your words hit close to home and next thing you know is that you're being cornered against the door of your office and he managed to inmobilize you; he grabs your shoulder to turn you around, his right leg between yours and his face right next to yours.

"you think you're better than the rest of us just because you get to take the credit of putting the bastards we catch behind bars but you just have to sit pretty here," he speaks lowly into your ear, his tone making it clear that he was letting it all out, months of bottled up frustration flowing out of him "you do nothing but talk, that's all that mouth of yours can do and it was just time someone put you in your place."

"richard grayson, you better back the fuck up now or–" you start, the warning hanging in the air and interrupted by a low grunt that just escaped your lips when he pressed a bit more against you just to mess with your nerves, causing his thigh to press a bit more between your legs and sending a jolt through your spine that mixed with all the emotions "do that again– shit," and even tho he is surprised and a little taken aback by your reaction he complies, moving closer until he could feel his leg pressed up against your clothed core and he decided to grind it teasingly "just like that, right there..."

"that's all it takes to turn off your brain?" he asks mockingly, his hand pressed between your shoulders as his lips brush against your era and it's easy to hear the smirk on dick's voice "pin you against the door and let you grind yourself against my thigh? it's pathetic how a smartmouth like you turns to a puddle when someone touches your cunt like this."

yeah, it's pathetic because he managed to shut you up without even trying and he's proud of it. his hand trails down your back until it reaches the lower part of it making sure to hold your body in a way you couldn't move your hips to grind on his thigh.

"go on, why don't you move?" he asks teasingly, his hand pressing harder when he felt the jerk of your hips and an amused laugh escapes his throat when you grunt frustrated "who would have thought that miss great prosecutor was such a desperate little slut." and he could have stopped there, make you help him because you'd be too embarrased to deny him anything after putting this show for him but dick decided to lean in and press a lingering kiss on your neck that made your breath catch on your throat.

"dick– fuck, don't be such an ass" you say in a hoarse tone, looking at the ceiling as you try to rock your hips once again, feeling yourself able to do so when dick's hand wanders from your back to your stomach and then up, resting between your breasts as he breathes you in.

"pretty fucked up, isn't it?" he asks against your neck, nibbling on the side of your neck as his fingers start undoing the buttons of your shirt while you grind against his thigh and everything feels so forbidden, one of your hands moving to lock the door because there was no way you'd let yourself get caught being groped by the detective you've told all your department you hated.

it wasn't news for your coworkers that dick and you had a long history of not getting alone but truth be told, you just wanted to make dick give his best because that would also allow you to give your best. it was a win-win, if only he saw it that way because you weren't trying to buy more time for the criminals to make up evidence or build new alibis or get fake witnesses.

dick gets your shirt open, his hands messily working on pulling your bra down and growling lowly when he saw your breasts spilling out against the door, his eyes moving from your chest to the way your features contorted from the way you were getting yourself off like this. with every jerk of your hips he could feel your ass pressed against his cock, the bulge inside his dressing pants now hard in a way you could feel it againt your body.

he lets go of you, turning you around and ignoring your grunt when you were left without that pleasurable feeling on your aching pussy. his hands gripping your hips as he presses a hungry kiss on your lips, demanding and bruising between the smirk it draws from him when you kiss him back with the same need as your hands undo his shirt, pulling it away from his body as he manages to walk until he is sitting on your desk with you sitting on his lap.

the messy making out is only interrupted when the clothes come out of your body, heavy breathing as he squeezes and gropes your flesh into his hands in a rush of pure lust that's fueled by the way your wetness feels when pressed against his hard on as he moves you to tease your pussy, his shaft moving between your folds and the wet sounds are only muffled by the low moans and growls you both try to keep as low as you can.

"this is wrong..." you say breathlessly, feeling how dick picks your body up with his arm around your waist as his free hand lines his tip with your entrance and he grunts into your neck when you are the one that slides down on him with your eyes closed shut "so wrong, god."

it's not much when your body moves on its own, going up and down on his cock as he looks up at you, hands gripping your waist to hold you as his lips are around one of your nipples, sucking and licking at it while your nails sink into the skin of his shoulders.

you'd never set yourself into this kind of situations but there was no time to think about how wrong this was when it felt so good, the way he filled you up as you rode him slowly, teasing him to grip your hips in order to set the pace to make you bounce on him.

"you look so good like that, fuck," he whispers against your chin when you start grinding on him, his hands on your hips so hard that his fingers bruise your skin as he thrusts deeper into your pussy "so desperate fucking yourself like a bitch in heat, you think you're using my cock for your pleasure but you're nothing but a pretty toy."

his words work as a turn on, the way he looks at you with hunger and need as he pounds harshly inside your cunt makes you moan without care on who could hear you.

"you look so pretty like that, so tight around me" he grunts into your ear and it's right there when he takes the lead, setting a fast pace as he holds your hips to make your body bounce "you like it like this? when you're being used like a dirty whore, sweetheart?"

"i like it so much, fuck–" you whine and the sound of your voice makes him chuckle, this was pretty bad because the degrading words were making you needier and the way you couldn't hide it made you appear more like a slut for him, clenching around him the closer you got to your climax as he hit all the right spots with each thrust he gave.

it was hard to talk for you, between moans and whines of pure delight that came after each stroke dick made as he kissed your jaw but he had no problem on doing it while his hand moved and reached that space on your pussy.

his thumb pressed against your clit made you shiver into his arms, whinning pathetically as he played with your sensitivity with a wide grin "look at the little mess you are, always so collected and now you're here with your legs all spread for me to fuck you into a brainless slut."

"dick– i'm close" you say, eyes teary and voice broken as your face finds a place into the crook of his neck but it's not too much time until he finds your gaze, leaning in to press a reassuring kiss into your lips before he pulls back and nods, thrusting in a faster pace and with deeper strokes.

"c'mon, cum for me, sweetheart." he growls against your ear, both hands holding your waist as your movements become sloppier and erratic, the tension on your belly building more and more until your orgasm hits your whole body making your walls clench tighter around him "that's it, that's a fucking good girl... i'll pull out now, yeah?"

and he doesn't wait for your response, knowing you won't be able to think straight while you were still on your high and with you still straddling his lap dick moves, strocking his cock until he is throbbing into his fist before he reaches his own climax, painting your stomach with those milky white streaks.

maybe, just maybe now he could find a way to fix his work without feeling so upset about it.

310 notes · View notes

katelynnwrites · 9 months

Text

Think I Forgot How To Be Happy, Something I’m Not (But Something I Can Be) | Felicitas Rauch

warnings: reader’s prior messy break up

word count: 3642

summary: you leave north london broken but maybe in germany, you’ll meet someone who helps you to heal, part two can be found here

a/n: requested, some fluff for my fellow germany fans. also my brain kinda went off on it’s own tangent here so this is what it is 🥺😂

Germany is not somewhere you thought you would ever live in. Yet here you are, in your new and empty apartment, having signed for Wolfsburg.

Arsenal had been your home for as long as you could remember and you had never planned on leaving your childhood club.

You were happy there. Until you made the stupid decision to date a teammate.

That’s where it had all gone wrong for you.

The way your relationship had ended, you wouldn’t wish that on anyone. The initial dismissal and pulling away by your ex had left you with trust issues.

The inevitable break up led to you falling out of love with North London. All the little corners and places in the city that you had once loved so much and therefore shared with your ex were now tainted with painful, sour memories.

So encouraged by your Arsenal teammates who have had a front row seat to the way your relationship had fallen apart, you had left the only home you had ever known for Wolfsburg.

******

You arrive in Wolfsburg to Jill’s open arms, the former Arsenal player having been instructed to look out for you.

She picks you up at the airport and brings you to the apartment where you would be staying.

The Dutch woman offers to stay and help you unpack but you give her a small smile and tell her you would be fine on your own.

You don’t want to say it but you need a moment alone, to process this enormous decision that you had made.

Jill understands and leaves but promises to be back so that you can carpool with her to your first training session with the German club.

Alone in your apartment, surrounded by cardboard boxes, you sigh and sit down to think.

******

Jill introduces you to your new teammates. They’re all welcoming, friendly and nice, excited to meet their new English teammate.

You’d remember a few of them, from international friendlies.

Lena Oberdorf especially because she had almost taken your ankle out with a solid tackle.

She rushes to greet you first, saying she is so glad to meet you and worrying if you hold any hard feelings towards her.

You didn’t and you tell her as much, giving her a warm smile.

Svenja Huth is next, taking her duties as captain very seriously and wanting to make sure you are fitting in okay.

The following faces you meet kind of blur together, unfamiliar German accents being the only thing you catch.

Until a brunette steps forward, meaning to introduce herself only for a blonde to interrupt her loudly, ‘I’m Jule and this is Felicitas.’

‘Don’t call me that.’ She mumbles, making Jule giggle.

‘Ignore her please. I’m Feli and it’s really nice to meet you.’

You laugh and shake her hand.

Feli smiles and you give her one in return.

******

As lovely as your new teammates are, you’re still not letting them in and keeping your guard up.

It bothers them, when you make excuses to miss team meals and leave team bondings early.

You play well with them on the field, connecting easily and creating goal scoring opportunities. Your talent is not something that was ever in doubt but now it shines through. The German style of play suits you.

But your distance concerns them enough that they ask Jill, the only one who you seem willing to open up to about why you seem so closed off and sad.

Jill tells them about your messy break up and how much it had hurt you.

She doesn’t share enough to violate your privacy but what she said had been enough.

Your Wolfsburg teammates are kinder to you after that, patiently waiting for you to let them in.

Especially Feli who is particularly enamored with you. With your English accent and smile.

The German has been trying to keep her growing feelings for you under wraps but it’s been getting harder for her to do so.

She loves spending time with you, adores the way your eyes light up when you find something funny.

When she finds out you’re a dog person, she brings her dog to training.

Feli watches as you laugh, letting her poodle lick your hand. Her heart skips a beat when you look up at her, a big grin on your face.

The sound of your laughter gives her a warm feeling inside, so much so that she’s smiling like a fool.

Jill leans against the wall with her and quietly says, ‘Well done. This is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen her since she got here.’

‘I just want her to be happy.’ Feli murmurs, shrugging lightly.

In that moment, Jill realises exactly how smitten her teammate is.

******

You weren’t blind. You know that your teammates know what is up with you.

But slowly and surely, their patience and kindness begins to pay off.

Feli is a big part of that.

The German player had caught onto how much you love her dog and had repeatedly invited you to a park not far from the training grounds.

At first you had made your usual excuses but Felicitas had been gentle but persistent in her asking, so much so that you had acquiescenced.

In the time you spend with Feli and Cinnamon, you get to know them both.

Cinnamon loves getting the spot behind her ears scratched and Feli loves her coffee.

As you grow more and more familiar with a certain German, you find yourself developing feelings for her.

Eventually it gets to the point where you wake up one morning, on an off day and catch yourself excitedly getting ready to see her at the park.

You don’t go that day.

You ignore all her subsequent texts and calls.

They are anxious and worried at first but soon get even more frantic.

You hide under your blankets and keep your phone far away from you.

So great is the pain in your heart and so heavy are the thoughts in your head that you forget that you gave Jill a spare key when you moved in.

The depth of Feli’s feelings for you are not to be underestimated because soon enough, she’s there with Jill.

Jill who takes one look at you in your room and quietly sits down beside you on the bed, where you’re curled up.

‘Schat, I know that you’re scared of what you might feel for Feli but for what it’s worth, I believe that she couldn’t be more different than your ex.’

The Dutch woman waits a moment and upon not getting any response, sighs.

‘She was so worried you know. Feli practically begged me to come here and check on you.’

‘Was she?’ You softly ask, tearing up slightly as Jill talks about the German woman who has found her way in your heart despite your best efforts to keep her out.

‘She still is. I couldn’t convince her to go back to her apartment so she’s here. I managed to get her to wait in your living room till I spoke with you.’

‘She’s here?’

You panic and stand up, rushing to pull your bedroom door open.

Felicitas freezes, she’d been pacing you think.

Cinnamon barks happily and runs up to you. The brown poodle gets an absentminded pet from you before you straighten back up.

You keep staring at Feli and barely notice Jill leaving the apartment after saying that she’d give the two of you a moment.

‘Hi.’ Feli softly says.

‘Felicitas.’

‘You’re the only one who I don’t mind calling me that you know? Well, other than my parents.’ The brunette gives a tiny laugh before she takes a step towards you.

‘You mean a lot to me. The way I feel about you isn’t a secret.’

The sharp inhale that escapes you is loud. You didn’t know that your feelings were returned and the anxiety her confession causes must be clear on your face.

Feli’s eyes widen and she quickly says, ‘I know someone hurt you badly and I want you to know that I would never do that. I really care for you and I'd just like you to know that if you ever want to let me in, I'll be here. You don’t have to feel the way I feel but I'm here. I'm always going to be here for you. I'm not going anywhere, I promise.’

‘You promise?’

The way your voice wavers makes your unsurety apparent.

It’s why Feli doesn’t hesitate to answer with certainty, ‘I promise.’

You stay silent, trying to see if she really means it.

After a moment, you decide she does. You trust that she does.

‘Okay. D-Do you still want to go to our park now?’

It’s a tiny nervous step from you but a step nonetheless.

‘Of course.’ Feli is quick to agree, a wide smile on her face.

The fact that you had referred to the park as yours and hers, gives her butterflies in her stomach.

******

You join your teammates for lunch.

If Feli had to bring Cinnamon and sit beside you for the whole meal, she didn’t care.

Neither did your teammates who are over the moon that you are finally comfortable enough to start letting them in.

They don’t explicitly say anything to you but the way they grin and hug you, shows you that they care.

The meal is lighthearted and fun, situated at a pet friendly restaurant, to accomodate Cinnamon.

By the end of it, you have decided that getting to know your teammates outside of training wouldn’t be so bad.

Especially if Feli was going to hold your hand every time she thought you were anxious.

******

You begin going over to Feli’s apartment.

She convinced you to come over one day, after playing fetch with Cinnamon, saying that she’d like to introduce you to proper homemade German food.

You’d hesitated but she had looked at you so pleadingly you could not say no.

So you said yes.

And that is how the twice a week dinners started because the food that Felicitas makes is just so good.

You might even say that it makes you fall a little harder for her.

Feli tries to teach you how to cook but it doesn’t really work out. It’s almost laughable really, how hard the both of you try, you to cook and her to teach you.

Eventually the two of you just resign yourselves to the fact that it wouldn’t work and settle into a new routine.

One where you go shopping for groceries together and cook together in Feli’s apartment.

A routine where you insist on paying for the groceries since she cooks and where you sit on the counter, sneaking pieces of food to Cinny as you watch her cook.

******

As the months pass by in Germany, you make sure to keep in contact with your old Arsenal teammates.

Your English teammates you still see at camp but you miss your other teammates.

Especially Lia who you have always been particularly close to.

Lia who you call one night, to have her answer your video call with a knowing smile.

‘Lia?’ You nervously question.

‘You’re falling in love.’

‘What? Lia no.’

‘I was watching the game today. I saw you run to a certain Felicitas Rauch as soon as she went down. You were the first one by her side.’

‘I care a lot about all my teammates. I’d do the same for you.’

Lia doesn’t just laugh, she giggles.

‘Yes but you wouldn’t be smoothing sweaty hair off my face or helping me sit up. Or holding my hand as you walk me back to my position.’

You frown, remembering the moment from earlier.

Feli had been tackled and had gone down holding her ankle. She had not got back up, so you had sprinted right over.

Upon hearing her pained gasps, you had immediately tried to soothe her pain as best as you could.

It hadn’t occurred to you that it would be broadcasted on live television.

You had just been so focused on Feli and the fact that she had been hurting. Everything else was unimportant then.

The way Felicitas had gratefully held your hand as the medics checked out her ankle, it assured you that you had made the right decision.

Lia’s new fit of giggles brings you out of your thoughts.

‘I’d hold your hand and walk you back to your position if you wanted.’ You grumble.

The Swiss woman laughs once more before looking at you seriously.

‘I’m so glad you’re healing. It wasn’t easy to see how broken you were before.’

‘Feli’s been…’

You trail off, not knowing how to explain exactly how kind, patient and warm the defender has been to you.

Lia nods, ‘I know Feli and I know you. I also know that you’ll be good for each other.’

‘I don’t know Lia. I’m just so scared. Feli means so much to me and she’s been incredibly sweet but there’s always the chance that this all goes wrong. I love Germany and I feel at home here now. I don’t want to lose that again.’

Your former teammate nods once more, understanding your fears.

But then she asks something you should have asked yourself a long time ago.

‘Why does Germany feel like home?’

The answer is one you know deep down. Germany only feels like home because of Felicitas.

******

You curl into Feli’s body, your palm resting on her stomach.

She shifts, allowing you to get more comfortable.

‘Thanks.’ You whisper, so as to not disturb the rest of your teammates during the movie screening and she presses a kiss onto your hair in response.

You don’t stop her when she presses a second and then a third affectionately.

If anything, you relax even further into her.

With her so close, you can hear and feel the way her breath stutters every time the movie picks up.

It seems that Feli scares easily and you find that adorable.

******

Twice a week dinners at Feli’s apartment become a nightly occurrence.

One evening when it’s her turn to host team bonding, you answer the door.

Jill smirks.

You roll your eyes.

She catches you alone, in Feli’s kitchen later on.

‘Whatever you two are, it’s not just friends.’

‘I know.’ You say softly and despite Jill’s excited follow up and slightly invasive questions, you don’t say anything else.

******

Despite how close you and Feli are, she’s not your bus buddy.

Your bus buddy is Jill and hers is Kathy.

Today though, Felicitas is having a hard time.

It didn’t matter that Wolfsburg had won the game. By her high standards, she had played an awful game and she’s just so tired. She is exhausted and furious at herself.

All she wants is to go back to her apartment and sleep. And maybe cuddle with Cinnamon a bit.

Feli is so out of it that she doesn’t notice Jill nudging you and not too quietly murmuring, ‘Go to her.’

Kathy switches with you easily once she sees you coming towards her.

It doesn’t occur to Feli that you have noticed her change in behaviour and would want to check in on her.

So when you slide into the seat beside her and reach out to hold her hand, she jumps with surprise.

‘I got you.’ You promise and guide her to lean against your shoulder.

Felicitas does so with a breath of relief.

When you carefully kiss her cheek and pull her even closer, Feli thinks that everything is going to be okay.

******

You’re more affectionate with her than ever and Feli loves it.

She loves how comfortable you are around her now, from holding her hand on team walks to cuddling with her on her couch.

Now, having traveled back to North London, for the Champions League, Feli is especially glad you’re letting your walls down.

She knows it would be hard for you to be back in your old home so she wants to be there for you, as best as she can.

Svenja had given out the room assignments and you had eagerly pressed a kiss onto Feli’s cheek when you found out she would be with you.

‘Hi roomie.’ You’d teased and she had held out her hand to you.

‘Hello.’ Feli murmurs, smiling when you take her hand.

As she follows you into the elevator, she makes a mental note to thank her captain.

******

You’re so excited to be back in North London. You’ve missed the city and your friends.

You’re even more excited to take Felicitas to your favourite cafe.

She loves coffee more than anyone you have ever known and you hope that she likes the coffee there.

Unfortunately that has to wait till after the game. You will have a chance to do that tomorrow, before you fly back to Germany.

First you have to play and hopefully win against your former team.

But for now, you’re content to watch Feli get ready for bed.

Felicitas who looks so cute with her glasses on.

So you tell her that and she blushes, making you laugh.

******

Feli squeezes your hand in hers as you line up in the tunnel. The Arsenal players aren’t here yet so the defender takes a moment to check on you.

‘You okay?’ She asks and you nod, wrapping your arms around her waist and burying your face into her neck.

You take a deep breath in and Felicitas rubs your back soothingly.

She smells nice and you allow her to calm you down.

Feli places a brief kiss onto your forehead and then steps back as the Arsenal players join your team in the tunnel.

‘Lia!’

The Swiss player hugs you immediately. Lia’s eyes meet Feli’s and she mouths, ‘Thank you.’

******

Your game ends as a draw.

As you go around shaking hands and sharing hugs with your former teammates, there’s a lot of laughter.

But when you’ve made your rounds, you’re back at Feli’s side, slipping your hand into hers as she walks back towards the tunnel.

Feli looks at you in surprise.

‘Don’t you want to spend time with your old teammates?’

‘I have.’ You answer but Felicitas squeezes your hand.

‘Don’t you want to spend more time with them?’

‘Nope. I want to spend time with you now.’

‘Oh.’ Felicitas’ cheeks turn a bright pink and she brings your joined hands up to her lips so that she can kiss the back of your palm.

If Lia or your ex sees the short moment, they don’t say anything.

If your ex-girlfriend glances at Lia, the Swiss woman’s only response is to shrug as if to say, ‘You’ve lost her.’

******

‘To go or having here?’ The barista asks.

Feli eyes you in question and you say, ‘To go please.’

As you wait for your coffees to be ready, you explain, ‘There’s somewhere I want you to see. It meant a lot to me when I was growing up here.’

Felicitas simply holds your hand and smiles at you reassuringly in answer.

When you leave the cafe, she deposits your joined hands in her jacket pocket for warmth. In doing so, she catches the expression of complete adoration on your face and feels the familiar butterflies in her stomach flutter around.

‘How’s your coffee?’ You ask, as you lead her down the street.

Feli grins, ‘It’s good. I understand why this is your favourite coffee.’

‘It isn’t anymore.’ You whisper.

‘It isn’t?’

‘Yours is.’

Felicitas visibly tries and fails to fight back her smile.

‘It’s the cinnamon I put inside isn’t it? I told you it would grow on you.’

‘You were right.’ You admit and Feli laughs. Her thumb brushes over the back of your hand and you duck your head to hide the way your cheeks burn.

‘Come on. We’re almost there.’

‘Okay.’ Feli murmurs.

******

It’s only a short walk from there and it’s spent in comfortable silence.

When you reach a small side street, you gently tug Felicitas with you, into a park just beside it.

‘It’s beautiful here.’ Feli quietly says.

‘It is. But you should see it in the summer. There’s so many flowers then.’

You and Feli sit down beside each other on the bench. You rest your head on her shoulder and Felicitas exhales.

She finishes her cup of coffee and then sets it aside.

‘Why’d you bring me here? Not that I don’t want to spend time with you but why?’

Sitting up properly, you look at Feli for a long moment.

Her eyes are so pretty you think.

Gingerly, you reach out to trace the contours of her jaw. Felicitas melts, leaning into your touch.

Very very slowly, you begin to close the gap.

Feli catches on immediately and she gently stops you.

Your eyes widen with hurt and you pull away, making the German player rush to stop you.

‘Liebling I want this. I really really do. I just need to make sure that it’s what you want too.’ She softly says.

‘Felicitas…’

Feli tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. It’s an infinitely sweet gesture that has your breath catching.

‘You met your ex-girlfriend last night and I know you’re saying you’re okay but that couldn’t possibly have been easy for you.’

‘It wasn’t. But I am okay Felicitas.’

‘But you-’

‘Feli I don’t care about her. I care about you!’

Felicitas stares at you wordlessly.

‘I never brought her here, I’ve never brought anyone here except for you. This is the park where I first learnt to play football.

Your voice is barely audible when you say, ‘It means the world to me and so do you Felicitas.’

This time, when you try to kiss her, Feli doesn’t stop you. She meets you halfway instead.

Dutch Translation:

schat - darling

German Translation:

liebling - love

599 notes · View notes

goldennikko · 1 year

Text

【 1 】 the tutor

summary : as part of the tutor club, you were tasked with dealing with a not-so-minor issue with your cousin's grades, which led you to meet four women connected to her. with their curiosity piqued, the four women compete against one another in an attempt to woo you and win your heart. which of the four will most impress you?

word count : 7.1k

series : heavenly

chapters : 【 1 】【 2 】

when the professor announced an early dismissal, the room was filled with loud chatter from the students, accompanied by a series of laughs as they said their goodbyes and the annoying screeching of chairs that caused everyone to cover their ears as some of the other chaotic students dashed for the door. yells of complaint and concern filled the room, but the boys were too busy pushing each other to hear them.

"children."

you sighed with furrowed brows as you packed your belongings, glancing up from your bag before shaking your head. you were so focused that you didn't notice your best friend approaching you, and you jumped in surprise when a deep voice sounded from next to you.

"y/n."

"oh my fucking god."

your wide eyes met your best friend's blinking eyes, watching as he raised a questioning brow at you, albeit a little judgmentally as usual.

"the hell is wrong with you?"

you irked. "stop doing that."

lee heeseung simply smirked at you, and you knew what was coming next, causing you to roll your eyes.

"what? are you blind now, too?" the varsity basketball player teased and raised his hand above his head, subtly demonstrating the height difference between the two of you. "i'm this tall and you still failed to see me?"

"shut up."

you left him behind, his evil laugh echoing in your ears. well, you tried to. because it didn't take him long to catch up to you with his long limbs, an arm thrown around your shoulders. heeseung decided to stop teasing you after noticing the corridor you were both taking.

"from what i remember, the gate is on the other side, y/n."

"i know that, hee."

you glanced up at him, catching the silent query in his bambi eyes.

so, with a sigh of frustration, you went on to explain.

"mr. kim said he'd like to meet with me after class to discuss my cousin's grades."

"maybe to praise her?" heeseung said, trying to make you feel better as he felt your tense shoulder under his palm.

even though the varsity was unconcerned about his own grades, he understood your frustrations because he knew how much you cared about your cousin despite the fact that your interactions with her were limited.

besides, he grew to adore your cousin, too, so hearing the worry in your tone and seeing the frustration on your face naturally made him worry as well.

you shook your head. "his tone and facial expression indicate otherwise."

your brow furrowed as you remembered your brief interaction with him earlier.

his tone was pity-filled as he spoke to you, his brow furrowed worriedly as lines formed on his forehead and you could tell he was stressed, and his eyes shone with genuine concern for his student while looking into yours.

that was more than enough for you to assume the worst.

heeseung sighed. "well, let's hope it's not that bad."

"i hope so."

after that, you fell silent, hurrying down the corridor to the professor's office. the pleasant atmosphere was only shattered when heeseung made stupid remarks about random people he saw who irritated him. you were used to his jerkish demeanor, so you simply rolled your eyes whenever a foul word or comment slipped out of his mouth so easily.

quite a judgmental best friend you got.

you arrived at the office, and heeseung gave you one last pat, the gesture serving as his silent support and comfort. you gave him a strained smile and knocked, entering only after confirmation from the other side of the door. your gaze landed on the man sitting behind the table, who was currently occupied with papers, ignoring the freezing temperature of the office, which caused goosebumps to rise all over your skin.

"ms. hong, good afternoon." mr. kim smiled and pointed to the seat across from him. as you took the empty seat, you returned the greeting meekly and thanked him. "so, your cousin…"

you watched as he averted his gaze from you to scan the papers in his hand, which you assumed was your cousin's. he sighed and handed you the papers with a small disappointed head shake that was almost unnoticeable if you weren't looking.

"miss hong is doing horribly in the subject i'm teaching, mathematics. while she is a good student, a sweetheart as everyone has said, her grades in this subject are the problem."

while you shuffled through the papers with an unreadable expression, your ears paid attention to the professor as he continued to talk about your cousin, even though you were dying inside as your eyes caught red marks that indicated failing marks on almost every paper, as well as scores that passed but were still very close to failing.

"i see her determination in my class; ms. hong is working her hardest and best. however, the results are unsatisfactory, and i am concerned that she will fail my subject."

feeling your soul leave your body, you lifted your gaze from eunchae's papers, which you wished you'd never see again, and met the professor's gentle eyes, who were obviously concerned about you as well because you had high expectations and were an overachiever.

"you're a member of the tutor club and ms. hong's cousin. so if i may ask you a favor, could you tutor her?"

"of course, mr. kim."

when the door swung open and you stepped out, heeseung raised his head. he knew mr. kim didn't praise your cousin because you wore a look that was far from satisfied. your best friend shivered because he'd seen that look before, the same one you'd give him whenever his grades disappointed you. you walked past him, and he knew where you were going, so he followed you.

"uh, how'd it go, y/n-ah?" heeseung inquired, his voice soft and sweet, as if it could help your anger and dissatisfaction fade.

however, your sidelong glance caused him to smile nervously.

you were not happy.

heeseung chose life over death, so he remained silent on the way to what he assumed was the cafeteria, because that's where your cousin's circle would usually be.

i pray for your safety, eunchae.

the cafeteria was packed with students, most of whom had just finished their classes and others who were waiting for their next period. eunchae, who was accompanied by one of her friends, was one of those waiting for the next subject.

the freshman was practically melting in her seat, replaying her conversation with her mathematics professor in her head. the sophomore in front of her looked at her with pitying eyes, brow furrowed in concern, having heard about her situation from the student council president.

"mr. kim suggested that i be tutored by one of the tutor club members." eunchae whined.

"isn't that good?" the sophomore replied.

eunchae hummed thoughtfully, her gaze sweeping across the ceiling. "well, i suppose. i hope i know the person so that adjusting to them isn't too difficult."

the sophomore was about to respond when she noticed a pair approaching from behind eunchae.

normally, the tall boy towering over almost everyone would catch a person's attention, primarily because of his height, which makes him easy to spot, but he was also attractive and familiar, but the sophomore couldn't even recall his name.

however, it wasn't him who piqued the sophomore's interest.

hong eunchae flinched when an arm shot past her, papers being slammed on the table. the poor freshman looked at the hand and immediately recognized the familiar rings that adorned the hand. eunchae gulped loudly and slowly threw her head back to confirm her suspicions, shivering as your frowning expression appeared from above her as you leaned over her.

the freshman wasn't sure whether she should be relieved that she now knew who would be tutoring her. it had completely slipped eunchae's mind that her cousin was currently a member of the tutor club.

"don't worry, sweetheart. it won't be too hard to adjust to my presence." you spoke a bit too darkly for comfort.

"unnie…"

of course, you immediately softened and sighed in defeat when you saw eunchae's terrified expression. you ruffled her hair with your free hand to show her you weren't mad at her, just at her grades. relieved, eunchae sighed, closing her eyes happily to enjoy your soft touch, her initial fear of you disappearing.

there was no way you could be mad with her. she was not only your cousin, but she was also hong eunchae.

everyone falls in love with eunchae.

of course, as her cousin, your love for her surpasses all others.

tearing your eyes away from your cousin, you then flushed lightly as your gaze landed at the elegant girl sitting in front of eunchae. her sole focus was on you. you noticed her as you stormed over, but you ignored it for the time being. you couldn't help but notice her rather dazed obvious staring at you now that you were this close to them.

even heeseung, who was standing behind you, noticed the girl's dazed expression and your blush, and he merely smirked and took note of it to tease you later.

"after class, go straight to the coffee shop; heeseung and i will meet you there."

you gave your cousin a tap on the cheek and quickly turned around, your blush worsening as you felt the girl's stare drilling holes into the back of your head. you noticed heeseung's teasing smile, which you ignored as you hurriedly walked out of there.

"bye bye, eunchae~!" heeseung gave eunchae a gentle smile, which she returned.

the varsity player turned around to pursue your evading figure, while the freshman and sophomore, the latter one mentioned still had no idea who the boy was, watched as heeseung wrapped his arm around you.

"now, now. what was that, y/n-ah?"

"please shut the fuck up, lee heeseung."

"who was that?"

eunchae shifted her gaze away from your arguing figures and toward the sophomore, who was still staring at the cafeteria doors, spilling students in and out, even though you had already disappeared into the hallway. oblivious as usual, eunchae beamed at her friend, drawing the other girl's attention to her.

"my tutor, apparently. she's—" eunchae's words were cut off by her own gasp as she realized the time and jumped out of her seat. "AH! i have to go, zuha unnie! my next class is gonna start in five!"

disappointed, nakamura kazuha watched eunchae sprint away, not wanting to miss her next class because she was on the verge of failing this one. the sophomore blinked as she moved her gaze to the empty table, alone with her buzzing thoughts. her mind was filled with you, knowing nothing other than you were eunchae's math tutor.

kazuha remembered how you melted to eunchae's scared puppy eyes. even if you were speaking to eunchae, the softness in your eyes and your warm voice caused comfort to spread within her. when your eyes met, kazuha's face burst into various shades of red, which you missed because you were too preoccupied with the spreading heat across your face. the embarrassment in your eyes made her feel embarrassed about being caught staring.

however, she couldn't help herself as she was drawn into your eyes even more after that.

sighing, she moved her gaze to her phone, which lit up as a notification from her club president flashed across her screen. sigh. kazuha moved quickly, gathering her belongings and exiting the cafeteria. with one final scan around the corridor, hoping to see you again, only to be disappointed as unfamiliar faces greeted her vision, kazuha left to take care of her own affairs.

reminder, everyone! ballet practice in 15!

"eunchae?"

the mentioned girl turned around quickly, beaming at the sight of the pair approaching. you skipped over to your cousin and wrapped her in a warm embrace, while heeseung calmly followed you with a large grin, ignoring the stares directed at you two.

as eunchae melted in your arms, she felt another hand on top of her head, giving her a quick pat, and with her usual cheerful grin, she peered over your shoulder to greet your best friend.

"how was math class today, hm?" you queried.

eunchae leapt from your arms and thrust her fist into your face, which was clutching the paper. you smiled proudly as your gaze was drawn to the green mark on the top right side of the paper.

even though you had only been tutoring your cousin for a few days, eunchae's scores and overall performance were improving. she wasn't difficult to teach, but she struggled with a few topics here and there, and she was grateful you were patient enough to repeat something for her to understand.

"oh?" heeseung towered over you, peering over your shoulder at the paper. "woah, that's a good one, eunchae."

"she's getting better marks than you, that's for sure." you irked, rolling your eyes at the boy, who shrugged nonchalantly.

eunchae's face emerged from behind the paper with a smile that grew larger as she noticed the proud glint in your eyes.

"you did so well, eunchae-ah!"

you squished her cheeks while scrunching your nose, a habit you knew would emerge whenever you found something cute—in this case, eunchae. she appeared to you to be a child who had successfully overcome their fear of heights at a playground slide and was waiting for their mother's praise and affection for it.

and you were clearly very proud of her.

while eunchae gathered all the necessary items from her locker, you reached for the paper and scanned the content, squinting your eyes at her mistakes.

"where will you be?" heeseung asked, glancing down at his phone. you cast a glance at the boy, whose eyes were scanning the message across the screen, which you assumed was from one of his teammates.

you hummed thoughtfully. "the library. you have training?"

your best friend gave you a curt nod. "yeah, so i'll be in the gym. what time will you be done?"

you shifted your gaze away from the tall boy and toward eunchae, who had come to stand in front of you, smiling quietly as she listened to the conversation.

"i think we'll be done in an hour or two. i'm not sure, it depends."

"just let me know then, y/n-ah." heeseung said, and when you nodded, he turned to look at the youngest, whose big doe eyes moved from you to him as the conversation progressed.

the boy smiled and patted the young girl on the head. "good luck, eunchae."

eunchae grinned. "thank you!"

you sat in the library with your cousin, twirling a pen between your fingers as you waited for her to complete the test you gave her. you spent an hour teaching eunchae about the subject and correcting her earlier math errors; now she's been answering your new exercise for fifteen minutes and counting.

"unnie?"

you were scanning the library as if it were your first time there when your gaze was drawn back to eunchae's troubled face, and you resisted the urge to squeal because of her cute pinched expression, completely forgetting that your cousin was struggling. you leaned in close, trying to see what eunchae was writing on the paper across from you.

"hm?"

eunchae shyly pointed at the equation. "am i doing this right?"

meanwhile, a fellow junior's curious yet intense eyes watched from a distance. the female stood in one of the library's many book aisles, one hand tracing the spine of an interesting book before her attention was stolen by none other than the familiar girl sitting in front of her friend.

even from afar, the junior could see how you stood out among the crowd. despite the fact that you were doing nothing but tutoring eunchae, her gaze had been fixed on you since she noticed your presence.

"huh. where did i see her again?"

the junior mindlessly took the book she had been touching for a few minutes, glancing at the cover to read the title before opening it, her gaze eventually returning to you. however, you had already left, leaving eunchae alone, just as she remembered where she had seen you.

"right, earlier in the hallway with that stupid varsity player."

you walked slowly through the aisle between large shelves, scanning the countless spines of books, quickly reading the titles of each one in the hopes of finding one that would help you with an assignment later. fortunately, you found it right away. before reaching for it, you double-checked that it was the correct book by reading the title again.

"fuck chemistry. i hate that shit." you grumbled in annoyance.

you froze, however, when a shadow came from behind you and another hand reached for the same book.

the long hair tickling your cheek, the perfume lingering beneath your nose, and the hand landing on top of yours, holding the spine of the book, all indicated that whoever was behind you was a woman.

as her hand gripped both yours and the book, you gulped. it wasn't so tight that it hurt, but it was enough to keep you in place for a while. you were irritated because you didn't want to let go of the book, but your face was flushed with embarrassment because of the situation you were both in.

"uh, miss? i got here first." you spoke with a shaky breath escaping your lips.

in response, the girl behind you hummed. "i know, i saw. i'm not here for the book though, you can have it."

she rolled her eyes, uninterested in the chemistry book, but you couldn't see the action.

you blinked, dunbfounded, the red on your face deepening the longer you stayed with her like that. "do you mind letting go, then?"

"hm? no."

you tried to ignore the hot breath hitting your ear as she spoke to you, concentrating on controlling your irritation at the amusement dripping from her unfortunately pretty voice. it sent shivers down your spine, and the female noticed, prompting her to laugh more in rhat same tone.

you resisted the urge to face her because if you did, you would have smacked her, which would put you in a bad light, or you would have panicked because you could tell this girl was already pretty just from the voice behind your ear.

"look, miss—"

"i'm just curious if you're interested in that stupid varsity player you were with."

the question caught you off guard, but the word used to describe your best friend didn't surprise you because you already knew he was stupid in more ways than one. however, the way she phrased the question made you shiver because she sounded like one of heeseung's many fans in this school out to get you.

it's not like you were attacked by his fans; your mind was just racing with all the possible outcomes because you were scared for your innocent life.

you gulped and quickly shook your head. "lee heeseung? no, i'm not dating that punk. he's my best friend. you can date him if you want."

despite the fact that you couldn't see her, the female raised a brow at the crown of your head.

huh. so that's his name? lee heeseung…

the girl dragged out the book you were both holding with a small shake of her head before pulling away from you, almost causing you to drop it. the light engulfed you again, almost blinding you, as the shadow and presence behind you disappeared, and you turned around quickly to catch whoever the person was, but the books on the other shelf greeted you instead.

you blinked. "what the fuck…?"

the female smiled softly, still amused, as the library doors closed, despite the fact that she was annoyed by your last statement that she almost puked just thinking about it.

date him? the fuck, she grumbled.

the girl walked down the corridor, holding the book she was interested in earlier, but she came to a halt when she heard a voice from behind her.

"yunjin."

huh yunjin turned around to face the president of the opera club with a tight-lipped smile, trying to keep the groan of annoyance from escaping her throat. she was met with a similarly irritated expression, but she didn't back down.

"you didn't attend rehearsals."

yunjin waved the male off. "i already know what i need to do."

"we would've still appreciated your presence, ms. huh."

yunjin, tired of hearing the same words like a broken record, turned around and left him standing there, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation.

"annoying little shit." they both murmured quietly once they were sure the other was out of earshot.

but yunjin wouldn't mind either if her club president heard it. to be honest, she would have preferred it that way. he ruined her afternoon, which was already going well because of her earlier encounter with a certain someone, and he appeared out of nowhere to be an asshole.

yunjin clicked her tongue in distaste and turned the corner, only to have another irk on her brow because another male appeared.

the fuck.

yunjin side-eyed the sweaty male as she walked past him, and the boy returned the same look, not liking the sight of the opera trained singer in his path, especially if she glared at him like that.

even so, they greeted each other.

"huh yunjin."

"lee heeseung."

back in the library, you'd returned to your table with a red face, and thankfully, eunchae was too preoccupied with answering the last question to notice. curses raced through your mind, all directed at the stranger you met in the aisle earlier.

that was one hell of an encounter, and you were certain you wouldn't be able to forget about it as soon as you hoped.

you sighed, annoyance written all over your face. "who the hell was that?"

"unnie, i did it!"

all around you, hushes were directed at you two, causing you to bow silently in apology. eunchae simply smiled at everyone and apologized, successfully enchanting them, as she handed you her worksheet. you gave your cousin a quick proud smile before moving on to check her answers, and she watched you with anticipation, her smile growing with each glance up at her with a raised brow.

eunchae, for once, was confident that her answers were correct.

"are you two not done yet?"

"patience, heeseung."

you didn't even bother looking up as your best friend slid into the empty seat next to you. eunchae smiled at the male, who returned the smile with a tired thumbs up, silently wondering how she could be so bright even after a long day.

"good job today, eunchae."

"you, too, oppa!"

eunchae bounced excitedly next to you, her eyes shining brightly, not taking her gaze away from the man making the ice cream, who smiled as he noticed the excited child. if it were possible, there would be sparkling stars all around your cousin as she waited patiently, or she might even be the sun herself given how bright she appeared right now.

you looked at her, amused. "you look like a kid."

eunchae gave you a brief pout before returning to bouncing on the tips of her toes, while you stood ready to catch the girl if she slipped.

"i am a kid, unnie. i'm younger than you."

you chuckled at her argument but didn't retaliate because it didn't matter if she was right or wrong right now; you'd always let the girl win.

earlier today, eunchae talked you out of a tutoring session that was supposed to start right now, but you had given in to your cousin's request for ice cream after she aced a certain math exercise. you couldn't even argue with her because your heart and mind were screaming at you to comply with her request.

therefore, after classes, you let eunchae drag you to an ice cream shop near the school, and here you were, watching your cousin bounce up and down with sparkles dancing around her.

"here you go, kids."

as you paid the man behind the counter, eunchae took your orders and quickly made her way to the table in the far right corner. the man's deep chuckle made you look back at him, and you whispered words of thanks as he handed you the change.

"sorry, it's just, that kid reminds me of my kid."

you smiled and said a few more words to the nice man before joining eunchae, who was halfway through her ice cream. you smiled in amusement as she appeared to have entered the gates of heaven after shoveling a spoonful of her ice cream into her mouth, sitting in front of the sunshine kid that was your cousin.

"slow down, eunchae-ah."

eunchae shook her head frantically. "this is so good, unnie."

"i can tell." you chuckled, amusement dripping from your voice, and resolved to find out for yourself whether the ice cream truly tasted that good.

it didn't disappoint, bringing justice to eunchae's exaggerated but endearing reactions to her own ice cream. you sighed, the dessert melting on your tongue and the heavenly taste spreading across your tongue, causing you to relax back in your seat.

"hey, y/n unnie."

you hummed and looked eunchae in the eyes. curiosity could be seen in her swirling orbs, causing you to raise a silent questioning brow. you listened intently as eunchae leaned forward eagerly as if whatever she was about to say or ask was top secret, but it was only her nature that you found adorable nonetheless.

"i heard there would be some sort of family gathering." she murmured against her spoon.

"oh, really? mom hasn't mentioned anything to me yet." you responded, interested in the topic.

"yeah! she told whoever that was on the phone it was going to be pretty big!" eunchae beamed as she excitedly threw her arms in the air to show you how big it was going to be. "that means…"

you happily returned her enthusiasm while holding back the laugh that bubbled up in your chest at the adorable kid in front of you. "...food!"

"exactly, unnie! i'm so excited!"

despite being hidden in the corner with your cousin, her enthusiasm drew everyone else's attention in the shop, and they unconsciously smiled at her, the biggest grin being worn by a certain girl from eunchae's friend group. she raised the camera in her hands and pointed it at the sparkling girl as she stood in line with her friends in front of the counter to get a few shots of their adorable youngest.

when she zoomed out, however, she noticed the girl sitting in front of runchae.

you.

the photographer drew the camera away from her face, blinking slowly as she watched you throw your head back in delight at whatever eunchae said. a joke, she assumed, but her mind wasn't functioning properly. it was as if seeing you laugh mentally broke her in a good way. your laugh, which she couldn't hear because it was buried beneath the chatterings of the other customers.

oh, how she wished she could hear your laugh right at that moment.

"sakura!"

when a hand was waved right in front of her face, miyawaki sakura snapped out of her daze and turned around to face her fellow photography club members, who were asking what ice cream she wanted, flushing red when she noticed the distance between her and them, indicating they had left her behind due to her dazed staring.

"what's got you spacing out?"

"we've been calling your name for minutes, unnie."

sakura turned even redder, bowing down in apology to the other customers in line who were delayed because of her before standing close to her fellow club members. her gaze landed on the table you were sitting at, catching you smiling kindly at eunchae as she excused herself for a moment.

you have such an impact on sakura, and she doesn't even know who you are.

"sorry, i just saw someone."

despite the barrage of questions, sakura raised her camera once more, this time pointing it at your helpless figure and snapping a perfect beautiful photo of you scrolling down your phone.

so simple, yet… sakura's thoughts wandered as she felt a hand on her arm, gently dragging her away and towards the table near you. the japanese wasn't sure whether she should be thankful that her fellow club members were assisting her or panic because you were so much closer to her than before.

"what are you guys doing?" sakura chose the latter, panicking as she tried to free herself from her short friend's rather tight grip, who had already predicted that the japanese would flee.

"trying to help you get a better view and shot, sakura." one of the boys teased with a large grin, holding both his and sakura's orders because the latter held her camera and was currently being dragged.

"unnie! i'm back!"

you raised your head from your phone, your face brightening as you noticed eunchae bounding over to your table. sakura, not wanting to waste the opportunity in front of her, quickly positioned her camera to take photos of both the stranger who had caught her eye and the adorable sunshine next to you.

"ready to go?"

when she first heard your voice, sakura melted. despite the fact that she couldn't hear it clearly due to the environment you were both in, she was able to pick up on the softness laced into the words spoken to eunchae, who beamed in response to your question. the japanese then couldn't help but be disappointed as she processed your words.

"yes, yes!" eunchae tugged on your arm, causing you to chuckle. "is heeseung oppa coming, too?"

you hummed as you rose to your feet, letting the younger girl lead the way out. "i don't think so, eunchae. he said he's going out with someone."

eunchae's eyes shone brightly as she gave you a curious head tilt, opening her mouth to ask you a few more questions about your best friend's shenanigans with someone, but she saw a familiar face.

"kkura unnie!"

you tore your gaze away from your cousin and followed her line of sight, confused by the familiar nickname slipping past her lips. there was a familiar girl sitting with her friends at a nearby table, a camera comfortably in her hands.

when eunchae yelled her name at an embarrassingly loud volume, sakura jumped, but even more so when your curious gaze fell on her. she could see the teasing look in the corner of her eyes, but she ignored it and focused on eunchae—at least, she tried to, because your slightly towering figure behind eunchae was distracting.

"i didn't know you'd be here, unnie!" eunchae shook the older girl's shoulders after giving the others a wide respectful smile, which they returned as they melted.

sakura tried not to look away from her friend, who was clearly influenced by sugar, and instead at you, but she couldn't help but catch a glance now and then, her face flushing red because your albeit amused attention was on her.

"we just stopped by to, uh, take a break." sakura stammered, fingers fiddling with the buttons on her camera as she returned her gaze to you.

you gave her a smile and a nod that she would have missed if she hadn't been looking so intently. sakura's smile widened in response, concealing her embarrassment, and she nodded as well, but more enthusiastically than yours, causing her to curse in her head.

get yourself together, sakura.

you, on the other hand, couldn't help but be flustered that a pretty girl noticed your presence. despite being taller, you stepped directly behind your cousin and merely listened to the ongoing conversation, finding the annoying dirt on your shoe more interesting.

sakura was disappointed she couldn't see you properly, but she couldn't focus on that any longer.

"and to get some inspiration." someone from the group interrupted the conversation, eliciting a few snickers. sakura sent a firm look in their direction, which they ignored.

"OH! then we'll leave you to it, kkura unnie!"

eunchae waved goodbye and began dragging you again, causing sakura to panic because she hadn't yet learned your name, but your back was already turned as you tried to keep up with your sugar-influenced cousin.

you wanted to return your gaze to kkura and bid her one last farewell, but your wide eyes were drawn to a child running up from the side.

"eunchae, stop!" you yelped, barely avoiding the child and yelling a halfhearted apology to the child's guardian and the child staring helplessly after you before being dragged out of the shop.

"you missed your chance!"

sakura sighed and leaned back in her seat, ignoring her fellow club members. ice cream on the table in front of her, her fingers fiddled with some camera buttons as a display of her habit of—well, was it excitement or anxiety? sakura wasn't sure which was which, so she pushed it deep down and went through her photos.

"she's so… pretty."

"are you sure you're not joining?"

as the two of you took the familiar corridor leading to eunchae's room, you cast a sidelong glance at your best friend. you had told him about the family gathering eunchae mentioned a few days ago at the ice cream shop, which had just been confirmed. heeseung shrugged his shoulders, his bambi eyes scanning the corridor for someone, causing you to raise a teasing brow at him, which he caught when he finally looked at you.

"not a word." heeseung grumbled, prompting a silent chuckle from you. "it's tomorrow, right?"

you hummed. "yeah, it'll be just a simple dinner."

"are you sure i won't interfere with your family if i join?" heeseung whispered.

you gave him another look, this time with a judging nature, blinking at his stupid question but understandable concern. heeseung raised an eyebrow at your gaze, but remained silent until you responded.

"my mom is personally asking for you." you replied with a small head shake.

when he opened his mouth to counter your statement, you beat him to it and added more arguments on your side, causing him to close his mouth and listen silently.

"eunchae's mom knows you, too, hee. you're basically family to us. i'm sure they wouldn't mind, it's not like it's your first time either." you argued to the tall bambi.

the pinched expression on his face screamed reluctance, and you sighed in slight annoyance and small adoration, deciding to pull one more trick out of your sleeve. you knew there was no way he'd refuse to attend the family gathering with it, and you didn't want to tell him, preferring to keep it a surprise, but he wouldn't go if you didn't tell him.

"he will be there, too, you know?"

heeseung's face flushed, and you laughed at this rare display of embarrassment from your usually cool and jerk best friend. heeseung whipped his head away from your gaze to hide the blush that was so visible that if they even glanced at them, they'd notice the red hue across his nose.

"shut up."

"hah! this is what i have to go through every single day, hee." you sneered at him, causing him to sassily roll his eyes at you, but his red face prevented you from taking it as a warning response.

"excuse me."

you came to a halt, your shoulders jumping in surprise at the coldness in the voice of an unknown person speaking to you. heeseung snapped out of his reverie, wishing the red would go away, and looked up.

"president?" heeseung queried in curiosity.

you blinked at the girl, who ignored the player next to you and instead approached you, her emotionless gaze fixed on your face. it was your turn to blush this time, and as much as heeseung wanted to tease you, he kept quiet because the only other person he didn't want to get in the way of was the president herself, who was now standing directly in front of you.

"y/n, right?" the president requested confirmation, but she already knew. she'd never admit it aloud, but she did it to prolong this nonsense interaction because someone pushed her to.

"yes, miss president." you swallowed your embarrassment as you watched her eyes scan every inch of your face up close.

"eunchae's tutor?" she asked again and you simply nodded, suddenly losing your voice.

the girl then took a step away from you, finally acknowledging her intrusion into your personal space, and gave you a brief bow. you hurriedly went to return it, but she was already walking past you, so you only stood there waiting for her next words.

"thank you for taking care of our eunchae."

heeseung watched the girl round the corner as you stared ahead, unsure whether to wonder what the hell happened just now or to question your existence because you got the president herself to acknowledge you. your best friend shook you like a random doll he found, a large teasing grin plastered on his face as he looked down on your now red face.

"now, now. what was that, y/n?"

"shut the fuck up, lee heeseung."

you ignored the grinning boy in front of you and turned around to see if you could catch a glimpse of the president before she vanished, but all you saw were students slowly filling the previously almost deserted hallway, indicating the dismissal of a few more freshmen classes.

"come on, eunchae's probably waiting."

you continued on your way without waiting for your best friend's response, ignoring his annoying chirp of teasing all the way there, weirded out by the interaction but flustered at the same time because the president stood a little too close to you.

"hey, hey. it's rude to ignore your best friend, you know?"

"please shut it, heeseung."

"y/n unnie! heeseung oppa!"

the president walked down the hall, ignoring the stares she received from her classmates. it was common for students to stare at a student council body while they were out and about, and while it bothered the members at first, they eventually got used to it.

on the outside, the president appeared calm and collected, but her thoughts were racing as she resisted the urge to turn red right then and there.

why the hell did i do that? the president would have cringed if she hadn't been in public, not because she regretted the entire interaction with you, but because the way she chose to approach you was embarrassing. getting in someone's face… who the hell does that?

"so? she's pretty, right?" as a shadow covered her entire being, a new voice sounded from next to her. "chaewon unnie."

kim chaewon cast a glance at the taller girl, who had managed to catch up to her. chaewon wondered how she did it as the other girl went to check on her friend, who was in the same class as eunchae. the smiling girl, on the other hand, was pretty quick with her duties, so she didn't bother asking.

"yujin." chaewon simply greeted the vice president. "she's… interesting."

an yujin raised an eyebrow at that, finding the response lacking because the vice president knew there was more to it, but still surprised that the ever so cold student council president openly, outspokenly, and outwardly admitted to liking someone.

"i definitely found her gorgeous. i saw her on the way actually!" yujin teased as she pretended to be enchanted, not missing the subtle glare chaewon hid in the sidelong glance she sent her way.

yujin, on the other hand, thought you were stunning. the vice president had seen you around before and was the one who pushed chaewon to introduce herself to you, but that's not what exactly happened.

chaewon remained silent, ignoring the blossoming sensation on her chest. it wasn't uncomfortable, but it bothered her that she felt some sort of excitement or thrill at the prospect of seeing you soon, perhaps to fix the first impression she left you because she knew damn well it was a bad one.

only the grinning vice president next to her would do something like that.

"oh! i think you broke her though." yujin mentioned, causing the shorter girl to look at her in a curious query, which yujin caught. "she was quite kinda out of it. what'd you do, president?"

chaewon's brows knitted in irritation, concealing her genuine concern in her chest. shit, did i make her uncomfortable? the president groaned in her head, noting that she shouldn't spend too much time with yujin in the meantime because she was going to be a lot like her, albeit a colder version of yujin's smug and outgoing self.

"nothing. i did nothing."

"uhuh. sure, unnie."

"eunchae! ready to go?"

the mentioned girl turned around to see you and heeseung, smiling with delight as she noticed her classmates literally gawking at the two of you, not bothering to hide it. it was as if they were seeing third-year students for the first time—a basketball player, varsity at that, and a tutor club member, also one of the smartest.

"yes, unnie!"

eunchae quickly joined you, and the three of you made your way to a nearby coffee shop, heeseung letting you two lead the way while he watched the boring math conversation taking place right in front of him. nonetheless, he listened to eunchae's stories with exaggerated actions, and you both responded with the same amount of enthusiasm as you flipped the notebook she handed you open.

the past few weeks were quite… eventful, for you at least.

your cousin, eunchae, was failing mr. kim's math class, and as a member of the tutor club and her precious cousin, you were tasked by none other than mr. kim himself with dealing with the not-so-minor issue with your cousin's grades, which led you to meet the four women who you found pretty regardless of how strange your interactions with some of them were.

you would never admit it in front of heeseung though.

speaking of which, your best friend was also involved in some shenanigans from the sidelines, which piqued your interest.

well, it was fun.

weird, but fun nevertheless.

if you thought the previous weeks were eventful, how would you describe the upcoming weeks? if only you knew. well, you'd find out soon enough.

"can we get ice cream, unnie?"

"hee will treat us." you stated, but glanced back at your best friend for confirmation.

the boy merely rolled his eyes. "yeah, yeah. whatever."

"yay!"

series : heavenly

chapters : 【 1 】【 2 】

nikko note: this chapter has been sitting in my drafts for weeks, and it's about damn time i published it. this was supposed to be posted on or before my birthday, but it slipped my mind ahehe. and we happened to reach 1k followers, so here you go! again, happy 1k! anyway, thank you and i hope you liked this! have a great day!

422 notes · View notes

zuhuan · 7 months

Text

BSD men x S/O after an exhausting day •ू♡ (pt.1)

Characters: Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky

Summary: The reader starts to get completely exhausted from the everyday trials and the following characters help s/o through it all.

Genre: fluffy comfort

COMISSIONS -> open

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Dazai Osamu:

You have a balanced relationship with your adorable boyfriend, Dazai. But there's still something wrong with you right now. During school time, a lot of bad thoughts go through your mind and you feel like you can't handle them all on your own. You don't dare ask for help because you don't want to bother Dazai, as you know how busy he is at the agency.

Your boyfriend saw that something was wrong with you, but he didn't dare to ask directly what was wrong. He always tried to cheer you up with his stupid jokes, but it only helped for those moment.

When you got home, you immediately ran to your shared bedroom with Dazai. This was unusual for your boyfriend because you usually give each other a big hug at the door and walk into your living room talking to each other. He knew something was wrong with you. You closed the door on yourself, and this scared your belove even more. You were so exhausted and upset, you ran your fingers through your hair and started to cry.

When Dazai heard this, his heart broke. A lot of thoughts ran through him. "Did someone hurt you?" "If that's true, are you injured?" or "Did he do something that hurt you?". But he quickly dismissed those thoughts and focused on you. Dazai somehow opened the door and slowly began to approach you. He wasn't sure if you wanted to talk to him, so he sat next to you on the edge of the bed. "Belladona, look at me. Sweetheart, can you take a few deep breaths for me?" Dazai gently tries to get your to look at him while also rubbing your head. "It will be fine, you're safe, alright? Nothing can hurt us. We're just gonna sit here for as long as you want and you can cry as much as you need to. You're safe with me honey...".

Dazai successfully calmed you down enough that you were able to tell him what happened to you. He listened carefully and together you looked for a solution to your problems. He could see that you were very exhausted. "I want to spend more time with you.. Dazai." Dazai chuckles. "Well, I was hoping to ask you that, love. What would you like to do with me?~" he leans back a little bit and puts one of his hands on your leg while the other is gently stroking you back.

You were a little embarrassed by the question, you blushed. After a while, you mutter to Dazai "I want to cuddle with you.. and watch a movie." He smiles and brings his hand up your leg. "That sounds lovely, darling." "I have the perfect movie for us. It's my favorite, actually. But only if you're comfortable with it. You don't have to watch it if you don't want to, my precious~ ". He seems eager to cuddle and watch the movie with you. "I'll keep you safe, alright? Nothing bad is going to happen, I promise." Your adorable boyfriend suddenly picked you up and headed towards the living room. He placed you on the sofa and kissed your forehead. He walked towards the door, put on his long brown coat and left. You stared at the door in surprise, wondering why he could have left.

After about 20 minutes, your loving boyfriend appeared at the door, holding your favorite snack, flowers and lots of soft toys. Your eyes widened and you immediately ran to him and hugged him. Dazai almost dropped his gifts for you. He put a smile on your face with that. "Thank you, Dazai!" He smiled. "Anything for my Belladona~". You helped him unpack and looked at everything he bought for you with sparkling eyes. While Dazai looked for the movie you two were going to watch, you prepared the snacks. You made yourself comfortable on the sofa in the living room, resting your head on his chest as he stroked your head. You started watching the movie and he kissed your cheek, you buried your head in his chest. Dazai chuckled. "I love you so much, my love." You spoke up angrily. "I love you too you idiot!"

The two of you enjoyed the movie while hugging each other. You felt carefree around him and you always reassured each other.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Fyodor Dostoevsky:

You and Fyodor have been in a relationship for a very long time, but you don't understand each other very well. Perhaps because it is difficult for him to understand other people's emotions and to express his own.

When he picked you up from school you felt very bad, but you tried not to show it, because you know that Fyodor is not the ace of emotions. One of his servants drove the car while the two of you got into the back seat. Your boyfriend placed one hand on your thigh and began stroking. You slapped his hand aggressively before turning away and staring out the window. "What did I get this for?" You didn't answer for a while, then muttered to him. "Don't touch me, anyway I didn't ask you to come for me!". For the rest of the way home, the two of you sat next to each other in silence, only the classical music playing on the radio broke the silence.

When you got home, Fyodor would have tried to talk to you, but instead you closed the door on yourself and hid in your book. He didn't really know what to do now. You read your book with sadness and after a while you got bored of it. You laid down in the bed you shared with Fyodor and pressed the pillow to your face and started sobbing. You tried quietly, but it's quite difficult to hide anything from him, he'll find out soon anyway. You heard his footsteps approaching the door, so you quickly tried to wipe away your tears so it wouldn't look like you were crying. He stopped in the doorway and just stared at you. "You don't want to talk to me about what happened, milaya?". You buried your head in the pillow and turned away from him. Fyodor laid down on the bed and hugged your waist from behind. You felt an unexpected warmth and comfort emanating from him. You turned around and buried your head in his chest so he wouldn't see your teary face. You've never felt this way before. Your mind was filled with many thoughts "Why does it make me feel like this?" "Why have I never experienced anything like this before?" "It is so comforting and makes me feel safe..." A sense of calm permeated your entire body.

You felt guilty about the way you spoke to him earlier, so you mumbled to him "Don't be angry with the way I treated you earlier, I didn't mean it, I'm just going through a hard time." You start to sob. Fyodor strokes your hair and smiles gently. "My love, don't cry-" He kisses your forehead and gently pulls you close, whispering - "It's alright, I'm here to tell you that everything is okay". Your boyfriend puts a finger over your lips. "I know... I know you didn't mean it". You know how difficult it is for him to understand other people's feelings. But now it was somehow different, it seemed that he was trying very hard to please you and help you through this difficult time. "I'm here for you whenever you need me, okay?" You also hug him while he caresses your face and sings you his favorite Russian nursery rhyme. You slowly fall asleep and your boyfriend stares at you admiringly until his eyes close from exhaustion.

The two of you clear things up the next morning. Your days were average, Fyodor did office work, in which you also helped him. He prepared a surprise for you for the evening. Book a table for the two of you in a really classy and rich restaurant, where your favorite food and drinks will be served to you. If he's not good with emotions, he can really spoil you with his money. "Thank you Fyodor for bringing me to such a beautiful place." He looked amused. "Of course, milaya. I only want the best for you."

All in all, Fyodor is a very caring and protective boyfriend who tries his best to spoil his one precious darling.

You liked it? Check this out! Click

319 notes · View notes

megu-meow · 10 days

Text

take my breath - sukuna

Part 4 of my Hockey Player Sukuna Series - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Lmk if you want to be added to the tag list! :D

This part is shit, I'm sorry. After TTPD I found myself unable to write fluff, but I've kept people waiting, so I had to force myself to write this.

When Sukuna says soon, he means the next Thursday. He calls you on Wednesday after practice to ask you formally whether you could keep your schedule open for the next evening and you agree, because you have been waiting for your date for a few days now. However, you find yourself frustratedly trying on every piece of clothing you own, being indecisive about what to wear. You want to look good for him, because as you shyly admitted to your brother, you really like Sukuna. He's rough around the edges, but he seems like a good guy, unlike all the other people you've dated before. You contemplate calling one of the girls, but Senna and Akane love to gossip, and for the time being, you'd like to keep this little date with Sukuna a secret. So you call the only person you can trust in this situation.

Sophia arrives ten minutes after calling her saying you need help getting dressed for a date. She's the only one of the girls who knows that you have something going on with Sukuna, it makes total sense to reach out to her in your current circumstance. You already made her swear on your brother's life that she's not going to say anything about it to the girls, so you're safe in that regard. Plus, she has a keen sense of style, which comes in handy considering you want to impress the pink-haired centerman with your looks. You noticed already how many pretty girls were wearing his jersey to games, you know that he could have any of them at his disposal in a second. It still seems sketchy that he became so fond of you in such a short period of time, but you're not complaining.

"He was so nervous when I left, Kento thought he was going to explode." Sophia says as you try to put socks on, balancing on one foot.

"Who was?" you look at her and you nearly kiss the ground, regaining your balance at the last second.

"Sukuna, of course. He's been pacing around the apartment like a maniac all day."

"Really?" you ask timidly.

"Yeah. Kento said he had never seen him so stressed." for some reason hearing this makes you smile and your heart warm. Sukuna doesn't strike you as someone who would be nervous about dates, but you already learned not to assume anything about him, because he always surprises you with the way he acts.

"I'm kinda nervous too. I want this to go well." you explain and you try to put your earrings in. As you look at yourself in the mirror, wearing the outfit your sister-in-law put together, you're content with your reflection. You look amazing and you feel confident in the pieces you're wearing. Your makeup and hair are done in your usual way, you don't want to look like a completely different person. Apparently, Sukuna agrees that you look good. Because the moment you open your door for him, he freezes in place, with his eyes wide and glimmering. For a second you think something is wrong, but those thoughts are quickly dismissed as he speaks.

"You look beautiful, y/n." he states, his voice softer than you've ever heard. He is wearing a burgundy suit, one that complements his skin tone. His hair is sleeked back, but it still looks effortless in a way. You can smell his usual cologne, the musky scent that lingers. It suits him.

"Says you, handsome." you compliment him back and you swear a blush appears on his cheek. Suddenly, he remembers something, and he gives you the flowers he was hiding behind his back all this time. "Thank you! What happened to all flowers are stupid?" you ask as you smell the peonies in your hand.

"Well I got you some sunflowers, but your brother told me I was insane, so he dragged me to a florist to get 'ones that girls actually like'." he explains.

"He's right, you know? You made me wait four days for this date, the least you can do is give me some girly flowers." you joke and he rolls his eyes. Nonetheless, he reaches out for your hand. You slip it in his palm, which is calloused from holding a hockey stick most hours of a day, but very warm.

"Listen, woman, I made you wait because I wanted to take you to a 3 Michelin Star restaurant that specializes in your favorite food." he explains as he opens the door of his car for you to hop in.

"What?" you ask in shock before he closes the door after you. He leans down, looking into your eyes with a smirk across his face.

"You heard me, y/n. Now, don't be so shocked, I told you I would go all out for our date."

"You didn't have to though. You could have taken me to a hole-in-the-wall ramen place and I would have liked it." you say, slightly feeling bad "How did you manage to get a table anyway? These places are booked months ahead."

"The owner is a huge Wizards fan and apparently I'm his kid's favorite player. I had the team sign a jersey and got them season tickets, so they were glad to do me a small favor in return." he explains like it is nothing, but it means the world to you. No one has ever done something so grand for a date with you. It makes your heartbeat go nuts and you can't help but stare at him as he drives. You observe his tattooed hand that is on the armrest, shaking slightly. You smile and instinctively take it in yours, laying your intertwined hands in your lap. He turns his head towards you in shock, but he quickly looks back to the road. The blush from before returns, even his neck turns pink, and you smile, adoring his reactions.

The dinner goes by fast, despite lasting for hours. The food is exquisite, as expected. Most importantly, there's not one dull moment. You and Sukuna talk like you've known each other your whole lives. He asks about your interests, what you like to do in your free time, where you went to school, and about your friends. He seems interested in everything you talk about, he listens with an intensity you find rare. He drinks up every single word that leaves your mouth, he asks questions, and he's genuinely curious about how you perceive the world. You ask him plenty of questions yourself and he answers them gladly. He seems very fond of his brothers, he shows you pictures of them and you observe how Yuji has the same color hair as him and Choso has a very similar line tattooed on his nose as Sukuna's.

"They're coming to town soon, by the way." he comments and your eyes light up.

"How come?"

"It's Yuji's draft year and it's held here in Tokyo. Choso just tags along because he clings to that brat like a leech."

"That's so rude!" you exclaim, but you're smiling. You're aware that Sukuna probably shows his love towards his brothers a little bit peculiarly.

"Well, it's true."

"Do you see a chance of Yuji being drafted by the wizards?" you ask.

"Not really. He is prospected to be in the top three of the draft and we are clinching the playoffs this next game as number one in the league. We probably won't have a pick in the top ten."

"I'm sorry to hear that. It would have been cool for him to have you on the team he's drafted to."

"I don't think so. If I'm being honest, I'm glad there is little to no chance for that to happen as of now."

"Why is that?"

"He won't have a target on his back. Otherwise, people would be mean to him and would rough him up with the sole purpose of pissing me off. This way he can become a professional player without being concussed every game."

"You're very protective of your brothers, huh?" you ask and he smiles.

"You could say that." he smirks "I'm protective of everything I own, you know." he adds looking into your eyes deeply. You know there is a deeper meaning behind his words. He's implying that he would be just as safeguarding about you if you were his girlfriend. You find it hard to believe that a guy like him exists. He is so charming but respectful. He is attentive, you mentioned one time what your favorite food was and he remembered, moreover, he went out of his way to get you the best version available of it.

"Where were you my whole life?" you ask, not realizing that you blurted out your thoughts just like that. You feel embarrassed as your hands fly to your runny mouth, covering it. However, Sukuna just laughs. He rarely laughs like this. It comes deep from within, the type that shakes your whole body and you're sure you're red like a lobster as you observe him.

"Sweetheart, I've been asking that question about you since December." he answers, his charming smile never fading.

"December?" you question.

"Oh, I thought your brother told you about that too." he seems shocked, but he continues "I've spotted you in the crowd at the Family Game in Kyoto. I was mesmerized, I even ran into one of my teammates on accident, I was too preoccupied with looking at the angel in the Wizards jersey."

"Oh, I remember that. I was laughing about that with Akane." you recall and Sukuna frowns "So you've had your eyes sat on me since then?"

"Well, I didn't know I was going to meet you on my first day in Tokyo while I was shirtless, but destiny has its way, I guess."

"You believe we were destined to meet?"

"I told you before, sweetheart, I am superstitious. Take that as you want, but I do think we are here having dinner for a reason." he explains.

Your date ends when the restaurant staff asks you nicely to leave because they've been closed for two hours already. You didn't even realize that all the other customers had left and the staff was ready to close. Sukuna pays for the bill and he sends you a death glare when you offer to pay for your part. "Woman, you won't have to pay for anything while you are out with me." he states, irritation evident in his tone. He also drives you home and walks you to your door. You're wearing his suit jacket, because you were a bit cold, although he turned the heater on in the car.

"Thank you for tonight! I had a lot of fun." you smile up at him, as you're trying to say goodbye on your doorstep.

"There is nothing to be thankful for, you got what you deserve, princess." he says and he seems a little bit disappointed, but you're not able to determine why. Maybe the date didn't go as well in his perspective as you thought.

"Is something wrong? Did I say something to offend you?" you ask in panic and he quickly shakes his head, dismissing it. Suddenly the redness returns to hiss tattooed cheeks and he suddenly seems nervous.

"I just thought I deserved a kiss after that." he whispers shyly, his face down, gaze locked on the tip of his shoes.

It's your turn to laugh at his awkwardness, but you still cup his cheeks in your hands and pull him in for a kiss. You don't quite understand where all this fearlessness came into you from, but you're glad it did because the kiss is magical. It's soft but eager and you can feel him smiling into it as his large hands find their destined spot in your hips. You're the one to break the kiss, but Sukuna pulls you in closer, resting his forehead on yours, and looking deeply into your eyes. His smile reaches his ears and he whispers to you softly:

"I hate to break it to you princess, but I don't think I can go on with my life without doing that every day."

You smile, and respond with a smile just as wide as his "Good, because I don't think I can either."

The next day is game day and you arrive at your brother's apartment beforehand. You usually drive with them to the arena. Sukuna emerges from his room in his game-day suit, his eyes glowing up the moment he sees you there.

"We're gonna be down at the car, Bambi." Sophia says as she and Kento leave in a hurry.

Sukuna steps closer to you, embracing you, his muscular arms around your shoulders.

"Hello, princess! How are you?"

"I'm great, Sukuna. Thank you for asking! How are you?"

"Better now that I know you're coming to the game to cheer me on." you smile, stepping away from the embrace, and you look into his eyes. "Are you gonna give me a good luck kiss or what?"

You're surprised by his boldness, but you leave a peck on his lips nonetheless.

"If I do good today, you're gonna have to do that before every game." he states.

"Alright. You've got yourself a deal." you smile and you urge him out the door, before your brother and his wife could start thinking that you're doing something inappropriate in their home.

Good does not describe the way Sukuna plays that night. He has one of the best games of his life and after the first goal, as his celebration, he looks towards where you're standing and points at you with a wide smile on his face. This is your sign that from now on, you're gonna have to keep your promise of giving him a good luck kiss before every game.

🩵 Tag list: @ichorstainedskin @ureuphoriasworld @new-weather47 @deepchromatose @cvr2mya @janrcrosssing @bakuhoes-bxtch @deluluforcarlos55 @stainednailpolishremover @thejujvtsupost @bleachisfood @dorck26 @chilichopsticks @when-worlds-end 🩵

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna fluff #sukuna ryomen #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #sukuna #sukuna imagine #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagines #Ren Writes - Sukuna ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

96 notes · View notes

s7-evermore · 1 month

Text

Ch. 4 - Tender Performance

Sorry this took a while to get out. I was busy af with college and everything lol. I haven’t edited this one yet, so I’m sorry in advance for the mistakes. I just wanted to get this one out of the way before finals take over my body and kill me—

The Boyfriend Contract Masterlist

Ch. 3 | Next Chapter

The Tender Performance of a contract means to offer or attempt to perform the agreement… and damn did he deliver.

It was fake-breakfast-date Tuesday. But Yuu’s nervousness was anything but fake.

She didn’t want to leave Grim behind on his own, so she made sure to text Azul ahead of time if it would be alright to bring him along.

“But of course,” he replied. You know, in the most unshady way he can via text.

“This better be worth it, Yuu,” Grim deadpanned as he slumped over her shoulder, “Seriously? You’re actually dating this guy?”

“Didn’t Ace and Deuce already tell you?”

“They did! And I thought they were messing with me!” He exclaimed with a prominent frown.

“And what would they gain from lying about this?” It was another stupid question from her, given that Ace would probably pull this type of prank on Grim.

“Because this is absurd!! It sounds like a lie! It sounds fake!!” He exclaimed louder, practically yelling into her ear. “Azul?! Seriously?! You’re dating him?? You agreed to date him?!”

She sighed, “Grim…”

“No— not even that! I can’t believe I had to hear this from Ace and Deuce first! We literally live together! How come I never heard about it?”

She felt guilty, but Grim was Grim. He’ll come around eventually.

“We tried to be discrete,” she simply replied.

“Man…” he sighed, “whatever, it’s probably none of my business who you date. Wish it was a better person though.”

“What’s wrong with Azul?”

“That’s such a stupid question,” he rolled his eyes, “like you weren’t there when he scammed us, or when he overblotted.”

Despite how he normally was, Grim knew Yuu well. They both knew each other well. Which was why she didn’t know whether to reveal to him her contract with Azul. However…

One of the terms stated in her contract with Azul was that only the two of them were to know the complete and clear details of their contract, and under no circumstances are they to tell anyone else.

The Leech twins probably already knew. While she knew that Azul wouldn’t tell them due to their contract’s terms, the twins were smart enough to know what had conspired between them. They didn’t need details to know everything when they were involved behind the scenes.

It took the whole night for her to process the fact that she would be fake-dating Azul for a while. It was Monday yesterday, and she was now on her way (with Grim) to one of her breakfast dates with Azul. One out of…well, many. Maybe.

She didn’t exactly discuss an expiration date, but Yuu had a feeling that things would calm down a bit when Azul’s end of the contract would be fulfilled.

That being said, she didn’t exactly have enough time to psychologically prepare for the experience of having breakfast with Azul as his…partner. Will the Leech twins be there as bodyguards? Will it just be the two of them with Grim third wheeling???

She hoped she was keeping a good exterior, because her mind was a train wreck.

Yuu didn’t expect much from the breakfast date aside from the subtle awkwardness between them. But for some reason, she didn’t expect him to be early…

Really early. He looked like he had been there for a good several minutes before she arrived.

“He’s early,” Grim said, speaking exactly what was on her mind.

She approached the Octavinelle Housewarden, who was seated at one of the empty tables. He was looking at his watch when she tapped his shoulder.

“Hey,” she greeted him with a small smile, “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Yuu,” he stood up from his seat with a polite smile before turning to the cat-like monster on her shoulder, “To you as well, Grim. Good morning.”

“Yeah yeah mornin’,” Grim said rather dismissively. “Didn’t think you’d actually be here.”

“Who do you think I am?” Azul frowned, dismayed by Grim’s remark, “I’m not one to ditch on dates, you know?”

“Don’t go thinkin’ you can drag my hench-human around just ‘cuz she agreed to go out with you!”

“Why, I would never think of doing such a thing!” Azul exclaimed, “Courtship is a consensual agreement. I asked for her consent and she agreed.”

Yuu sighed and looked down at Grim, “Come on now, Grim. Enough of that, didn’t you say you were hungry?”

“We should get some breakfast now,” Azul looked over at the buffet. “It’s still early, but the cafeteria will get filled up by students soon, so we should hurry up.”

“Sounds good to me!” Grim suddenly cheered, his mood lifting up at the sound of food.

She noticed the small quirk of Azul’s lips as they ordered their food.

“What will you two be having?” Asked one of the chefs.

“I’ll have two pieces of buttered toast and black coffee,” Azul replied.

Her eyes scanned the food at the cafeteria concessionaire before adding, “I’ll just have some Omurice, a glass of water, and a carton of chocolate milk.”

“I’ll have this, and this, and that grilled fish over there, and—“ Grim got off her shoulder and suddenly started pointing at a bunch of dishes.

“Hey! Calm down that’s too much!” Yuu scolded him, “Just limit it to two dishes!”

“We’re gonna have a full day today! I gotta make sure I don’t go hungry in between you know!”

“We still have lunch, you’ll be fine!” She stressed. “Ugh… seriously.”

“Why do you have to worry? Isn’t Azul paying for all this?” Grim asked, looking genuinely confused.

What?

“Huh?” She gaped at him, “What?! No! That’s not how it works!”

She looked over at Azul, only to find him already pulling out enough thaumarks from his wallet to pay for their meals.

“Woah—“ she placed a hand on his and stopped him, “what are you doing? You can’t pay for my stuff.”

“I can’t?” He blinked, looking just as confused as Grim.

“No!” She retaliated, “just ‘cause you’re a dude it doesn’t mean you have to pay for my meal.”

“And why not?” Azul asked.

“Well… it’s just… you don’t have to, okay?” She then leaned closer to him to whisper, “that’s not the kind of fake-dating relationship that I want.”

“Yuu,” he said, rather seriously, “this isn’t about me being a… ‘dude’—“ he cringed slightly at the word, “—you’re saving money aren’t you? It’s also part of our contract’s terms.”

“But you don’t have to pay for everything,” she said with a groan. It’s precisely because of this kind of thing that I’m saving money.”

“What do you mean?”

“Listen, just…don’t, okay?” She fiddled at her own sleeve, “it’s just, I don’t like relying on people when it comes to simple things like this. I definitely don’t want to become indebted to you more than I already have…”

Azul stared at her for a moment, making her more nervous. She hoped that she wasn’t breaching anything in their contract.

Yuu found it hard to rely on others, even when it comes to things as simple as paying for her food. She didn’t want to come off as helpless, or as someone who couldn’t provide for herself. Even before she came to NRC, she was used to getting by on her own, and she didn’t really need anyone’s help. She’d rather be the helper than the helpee… y’know?

“Then… just think of it as proof.”

“Huh?”

“Grim doesn’t seem to believe that we’re together. A lot of your friends don’t seem to believe us either,” he explained, “If I do this for you, then they won’t question the credibility of our relationship.”

“But—“ she paused for a moment, realizing that she hadn’t exactly told most of her friends the “status” of her relationship with Azul. Most of them (like Leona, Vil, and Riddle, for example) probably wouldn’t believe them, they knew Azul well enough after all.

They weren’t close, but they knew Azul and his tendencies.

I wouldn’t peg Azul for the type to blackmail a girl into being in a fake-relationship though… she thought.

“Do— do you think they’ll believe it?” she hesitantly asked.

He moved…closer, his breath tickling her cheek, “Do you think I would give just anyone anything without a price?”

Right. They don’t know their act. If they simply see Azul being generous to her, like a boyfriend would be, it would be believable enough. He wasn’t that kind after all.

He’s a little complicated, though.

“I wouldn’t be a good boyfriend if I didn’t at least try to pay for our meal,” he said, louder this time, enough for Grim and anyone nearby to hear.

“Come on, Yuu!” Grim encouraged her with a mischievous smile as he stood on the concessionaire counter. “Just let your boyfriend treat ya!”

She bit her lip, still uncertain. Even back when she was in a relationship— a real relationship, she didn’t like leaving this kind of thing to her partner. Even more so with a guy she’s fake-dating now.

“Is there a catch though?” She asked him quietly.

“None,” he replied, leaning down to whisper again, “this is just to honor our contract. We must look convincing enough, especially to your dorm mate.”

She bit her lip and hesitated. Grim ate a lot, and just while they were talking, he not-so-secretly added a cookie and a piece of coffee bread to Azul’s tray.

“…alright,” she finally relented before nodding over to Grim, who cheered.

After that whole back and forth (and the whispers), they sat at an empty table, Azul sliding next to Yuu, while Grim ate happily across them.

“Eat slowly, you’ll choke,” she warned him.

“Yeah yeah,” she lost him. He was too busy munching on his free meal to pay attention to whatever she was saying.

“Watching him eat all this gives me heartburn,” Azul said with a sigh, picking on his own food.

She shook her head before turning to him, “Grim tunes out the whole world when he’s this hungry.”

“I can only imagine how much you go through to feed this…creature.”

She shrugged, “I’m used to it. Anyway…” she leaned in closer to him, letting Grim wander off into his own world as she said in a low voice, “So, where were you born? Did you live in the Coral Sea your whole life or…?”

He raised a brow after taking a sip of his drink, “Is this one of your green-card marriage interview questions?”

His lips quirk up when she giggled, seemingly pleased with himself for making her laugh.

“I’ve lived in the Coral sea my whole life,” he replied, “The Atlantica Memorial Museum is but only a quarter of the whole area. There’s much to see there, but I’m not sure if it’s something you’ll enjoy.”

“Why not? I happen to like the sea.”

“I recall you saying that the sea is scary.”

“But it’s interesting,” she shifted on her seat to get comfortable. “Back in my world, more than 80% of the ocean has never been explored, mapped, or even seen by humans. Literally a great number of stars and planets has been explored more than the ocean floor! Isn’t that insane?”

“Hard to imagine, as a merfolk, that is,” he said. “If you’re so interested, then perhaps I should take you on a date somewhere in the Coral Sea someday…”

With the way he spoke, Yuu almost thought he was serious. But Grim was right next to them, and, with the cafeteria slowly filling up, who knows who could be listening in on them.

“That would be nice,” she said softly, feeling kind of shy all of a sudden.

He smirked, sensing her shyness, “Perhaps I can take you to my mother’s restaurant.”

Okay, now she was sure he was teasing her. Yuu didn’t want to go as far as to meet his mother. This was only a one-time fake-dating thing, and the last thing she wants is to extend the lie to Azul’s parents.

She rolled her eyes before saying, “I did hear from Jade that your mother runs a restaurant in the Coral Sea…”

“Yes, it’s a very popular restaurant. If you ask any local for directions, they would probably take you there themselves,” he spoke with a hint of pride.

She giggled, “I see where you get your business side from. Does your mother know you’re running mostro lounge here at school?”

“She invested in it,” he smiled, “and of course, every time I visit I show her documents of our profit— to show her its success.”

Wow. It was kind of weird to imagine that he had— or has, she’s clearly still alive— a mother. A family. You know… all those warm homey stuff before he became a tall, (handsome) intimidating, infamous cafe manager.

“She must be really proud of you,” she said.

“Naturally.”

“And your father?”

“Which one?”

She blinked, “Shit, you have two?”

“My biological father and my stepfather,” he answered, “both of my biological parents got divorced when I was young, and my stepfather was my mom’s divorce lawyer. Well… you can imagine what happens next.”

“Huh… I actually didn’t expect that,” she muttered, “Did you learn contracts and stuff from your stepfather then?”

“You’re smart. Yes, he taught me all about them,” he replied.

“I don’t know if I should thank him or not,” she sighed, “do you see your biological father often?”

“He calls every now and then to see how I’m doing, but other than that, very rarely,” he replied. Yuu wondered if it was a sensitive topic, but Azul didn’t seem bothered by it at all.

She looked over at Grim, who was now chugging on a mug of water. He inhaled his food like it was nothing.

“Well that was fun,” she said when she finished the last of her food.

“Does breakfast end here?” Azul asked as he watched her clean up her plate.

“Well I wouldn’t want to be late, and Grim might insist on more food if we don’t leave soon.”

Azul checked his watch, “We still have lots of time.”

She stabbed her straw into the carton of milk before taking a small sip, “Yeah but our classrooms—“

“Where were you born?”

She blinked at him. Oh, did he want to get to know her too?

Knowing Azul, it was likely for the sake of getting information about her, but truthfully, she would have to disappoint him. There was nothing remarkable about her, after all.

“In another world.”

He rolled his eyes, “I knew that, but where?”

“You wouldn’t know either way.”

“It would still be nice to know,” He insisted.

She pursed her lips, “Yokohama, Japan. I moved to Tokyo for college though.”

“Tokyo? Is it another city?”

“It’s the capital of Japan, my home country,” she replied.

“And why Tokyo?”

“My dream college is in Tokyo. It’s a little difficult to get in it, but I got a scholarship in the end, so all is good.”

His eyes widened slightly, “A scholarship? You must have worked really hard.”

“Not having a social life helps sometimes.”

He chuckled, “And what were you going to take?”

“Visual Communication,” she said, “there’s a master’s degree program too, so if I do exceptionally well in my undergraduate degree then I’ll hopefully be chosen for another scholarship for the masters program. Which I REALLY hope I get.”

She internally groaned at the thought of all those sleepless nights in high school, trying to keep her grades up while balancing odd jobs. She knew she would have to work twice as hard in college, given that college means more work, more brain power, and more money. Next time she would have to work night shifts more often.

“Your parents must be quite proud of you for getting that far, right?”

Yuu froze for a moment before giving him a stiff smile, she didn’t really want to think about it too deeply. It had already been years, after all. No use on dwelling in the past.

“Speaking of, what are your parents like?”

“Dead.”

Azul nearly choked on his black coffee. “I’m—“ he coughed a couple of times and composed himself, “I’m sorry—“

She smiled and shook her head, “It’s fine.”

It wasn’t that much of a sensitive topic to her anymore, honestly. In fact, the way she responded to him so bluntly was kind of funny. Like an incorrect tumblr meme or something.

“I…I see,” his face was in its neutral expression— the kind that often made her nervous. It wasn’t that he looked scary or anything, he actually looked somewhat professional.

He really is handsome… she thought shamelessly. Honestly, he looks like one of those serious-looking CEOs from one of those K-dramas or manhwas.

She studied his face as he silently stared at her. It made her a little uncomfortable, both his silence and the fact that he looked so focused on her face as if he was trying to unearth every single little secret of hers.

“Prefect?”

She flinched at the sudden voice as she looked away from Azul.

“Riddle!”

Standing before their table was the Heartslabyul Housewarden, accompanied by his usual retinue, that being Trey, Cater, Ace, and Deuce.

“Woah! So the rumors were true!” Cater beamed at the sight of the unexpected couple, “You guys really are dating.”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” She asked him, “Weren’t you the one who took a photo of us?”

Cater raised both his hands in mock surrender, “Hey now, don’t get mad at me! How could I not when it was the most ridiculous thing I’ve seen that day?”

Ace made a disgusted look, “Ugh, seeing you two make those googly eyes at each other is so cringey. Glad I’m not Grim.”

“Hey, don’t be mean!” Deuce elbowed Ace before smiling down at the Prefect. “But…Ace is kind of right though. You guys look really close.”

“It’s only natural,” Azul spoke up first as he pushed his glasses up, “She’s my girlfriend after all.”

Riddle made a funny face at the word “girlfriend”, and yet he remained strangely quiet.

“Wow, I really didn’t expect this from you, Azul,” Trey chuckled, albeit rather awkwardly, “Then again, you’re always ambitious— I guess it’s no different when it comes to love, huh?”

“Speaking of, how long has this thing been goin’ on?” Cater asked. “It’s kind of sudden. I can’t tell if you guys are just that good at hiding it or you had to blackmail Grim to keep it under wraps.”

“Hey!” Grim pouted, “For the record, I didn’t know about it either until Ace and Deuce told me!”

“What?! For real?!” Cater looked quite appalled at the revelation. “Dang! No wonder we didn’t know about it… Grim isn’t exactly the best at keeping secrets, you know?”

Grim snarled at Cater’s remark.

“How long have you two been… seeing each other?” Riddle asked reluctantly as he eyed them.

Riddle always remained suspicious when it involved Azul and the twins, that was the only reason Yuu could come up with when she saw the scrutiny in his eyes as he looked at the two of them.

It made Yuu quite nervous. She had been friends with Riddle for quite some time now, and it made her feel just as guilty to lie to him like this. Aside from that, however, Riddle also had an acute sense of responsibility and justice. If he felt something was amiss, he would surely look into it, just as he did during the incident with Savanaclaw.

As though sensing her apprehension, Azul placed his hand on top of hers, and it was…weirdly warm. He was always warm, and it was comfortable…for some reason.

Damn, leave it to a touchstarved girl to feel warm about Azul.

“For a while,” Azul replied with an amiable smile as he held her hand on top of the table— a sign of their relationship. “But if you’re curious of the specifics, we’ve been seeing each other for over a month and a half.”

Azul gave her a look and a soft smile.

Right, okay. So that’s their story. A month and a half of “secretly dating”.

“I’m sorry we kept it from you guys…” She suddenly said, “We just… wanted a little privacy, you know?”

Riddle stared at their intertwined hands without a word.

“Why apologize?” Trey spoke up instead, “you guys did nothing wrong. Besides, it’s probably Cater’s fault that your peace was interrupted.”

“Hey!” Cater looked at Trey in horror, “how come I’m the only one to blame here?! You were there too!”

Azul chuckled, “It’s not a problem at all. In fact, I think it was a good thing, for the both of us. We don’t have to keep hiding it any longer.”

He turned to her, “Are you finished eating?”

“Huh?” She looked down at her now empty plate, “Uh, yeah…”

“It seems that Grim has finished as well,” He stood up and stretched his hand out in front of her.

“Shall I walk you to your classroom?”

She ignored the stares of disbelief from her friends as she took his hand, “Of course.“

“We’ll be off now,” Azul looked at the five Heartslabyul students with his signature smile, “I hope you have a good morning.”

“I’ll see you guys later!” She exclaimed, “let’s go, Grim!”

Her furry companion hopped off his seat and followed the couple as they walked hand-in-hand out of the cafeteria, leaving behind several stunned students in their wake.

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst yuu #disney twst #azul ashengrotto #Azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #Azul ashengrotto x Yuu #azul x yuu #The Boyfriend Contract - TWST fanfic

59 notes · View notes

the-final-sif · 4 months

Note

Sixteenth Day Event Prompt:

Dream and Ponk discuss their experiences with Sam

@sixteenth-day-event "What happened to your arm?"

The question came out of nowhere. It was an impulse. A stupid one. Dream wasn't really expecting a response.

Surprisingly, Ponk's eyes blinked open. They weren't red anymore (thank god), but they were fuzzy and unfocused still. Several seconds ticked by before Ponk managed to rasp out a response.

"Sam."

It was just one word, but it was the most that Dream had gotten out of him so far. He would dismiss it as a quirk of timing, but from Punz's recounting, talking about shit had helped ground him and pull him back from the Egg. Alright. So Dream just needed to keep this going.

"Weren't you two dating?" He could swear he remembered that. Ponk huffed a dry laugh.

"Were. Broke up af'er he cut m' fuckin' arm 'ff."

"That uh- makes sense." Great. A+ conversation. God fucking dammit. Okay, refocus here.

"Was there like, a reason? Or did he just get bored?" That sounded harsher than he meant for it to, but too late now.

Ponk's gaze went hazy for a moment, too far maybe? Before he managed to shake his head, bringing himself back down.

"Stole the prison keys. Wasn't eve' tryin' to do much. He'd been ignorin' me. Thought it was funny. Thought I might go visit you or somethin'. He freaked out. Never thought- Never thought he'd do something like this." As he finished speaking, Ponk managed to lift his good hand just barely and gesture at his stump.

Ah. Dream wasn't sure how he felt about that. Was it better? That it hadn't been just him. Who thought Sam could be trusted and was wrong? Or was it worse? That it all came back to Dream himself in the end. Something corrupting, corroding, ruining everything he came into contact with?

A question for another time maybe.

"That sucks." Okay, he winced at that one. "Sorry- uh, I didn't. I didn't think he'd do something like that either. Before."

It said a little more than he wanted to say. Ponk, of course, had recovered enough to catch on. Eyes now focusing in on him. Taking him in and judging. Dream clenched his jaw and tried to ignore the weight of an old friend's gaze. Tried to change the subject.

"You feel up for some water?"

Thankfully, Ponk let the topic drop in favor of nodding. Probably parched by now. Dream pushed himself to his feet and grabbed the spill proof bottle that Punz had left. They were ready for this.

He held it out carefully, trying his best to control the shaking in his own hands. From how Ponk's eyes narrowed, he didn't quite manage it.

The light in here was soft, and Dream had been hoping that would hide his scarred hands. Not from Ponk's eyes though, as the other carefully took the water bottle, drinking from it in long gulps.

By the time it was finished, Dream had returned to his spot on the far side of the room, right by the door so he could get out if he needed to. Not that he would need to. Ponk wasn't infected anymore, the guy could hardly lift a bottle.

The silence stretched out between them, until finally, Ponk spoke again, eyes watching Dream's hands far too closely.

"Is it fucked up if I'm glad it wasn't just me? That he- It was him. I mean, I knew he was the one that fucked up. He cut my fucking arm off over some fucking keycards. But- I mean- He kept trying to act like it wasn't a big deal. Like I should just ignore what he did to me. Like it was all my fault. I didn't buy it- but- I mean- God, I'm not sure what I mean."

Something inside Dream wanted to break. Wanted to shatter apart. Wanted to scream and cry and-

"It's okay." Dream replied, his voice far more shaky than he would've liked. "I get it." That might be a lie. Both statements might be lies.

"I'm glad it wasn't just me either." Dream said, because it was what he needed to say.

Maybe one day he'd be able to figure out if he meant it.

#sif answers #sixteenth-day-event #c!dream #dreblr #sixteenthdayevent #c!ponk #dsmp #dream smp #sif speaks #sif writes #c!sam #c!awesamdude #dropsbyponk

111 notes · View notes

shoddynomenclature · 2 months

Text

Minthara’s New Dialogue

I’m pissed about Minthara’s new dialogue when Durge chooses to deny Bhaal, and I’m making it everyone problem.

Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.

———————————————————

Minthara stood outside the door to Durge’s new room at the Elfsong Tavern. Up until that night, they’d been sharing the room that now belonged only to Minthara.

It was late, but she’d found herself completely unable to relax. She didn’t sleep, but even her attempts to trance were only filled with regret of what had happened the previous day. Durge, lying dead on an alter of Bhaal before her. The rage that clawed its way up her throat. The way that rage shot out of her when Durge’s body had come back to life.

Her words had been cruel; hypocritical, even. But even that did not explain the regret and remorse that plagued her now. She didn’t know why, but it possessed her entire being. She was able to think of nothing else but that moment, played over and over in her mind.

She had never been one to hand out apologies. Even when she knew she was in the wrong she never sought to “make it right”. Why should she care if someone was pissed with her? Everyone in her life had been disposable. Everyone except Durge.

That is why, she supposed, she had come in the dead of night to darken her former lover’s doorstep.

She lightly tapped the door with two knuckles before cracking it open to checking to see if Durge was still awake.

They were, as she suspected they would be. Sleep was a rarity for them even on the best of days. Minthara stepped into the room without awaiting further invitation.

“What do you want? Have you come to berate me further?” The words came like a spit of acid. “Perhaps you have come to cull the weakest soldier from your ranks. Well I think I’ve had quite enough of your commentary for one day. Leave me.”

Minthara stood, rigid and unmoving. She has expected nothing short of fury from Durge, and yet she was still taken off guard.

“I have come to offer an apology,” she swallowed. “My behavior today was unacceptable, regardless of the circumstances and for that I apologize.”

Durge laughed. “When Scratch gets into the camp supplies and eats all the salami, it is ‘unacceptable behavior.’ What you have done to today is nothing short of monstrous.”

Minthara shifted slightly. She didn’t have a response prepared.

Durge broke the silence. “I thought you, of all people would understand. A deserter of both the spider queen and the absolute who found her power in godlessness. A lost child of House Baenre, the most powerful house in the underdark. And yet you see fit to lecture me about inheritance and power that I failed to collect at the cost of my own freedom. I thought maybe after all the nights you spent with me, sobbing against my urge to spill your blood you might understand why I must be rid of him. But I see now you’d rather have me a powerful slave than as I am.”

The room was silent again. Durge did not look at her, settling instead for continuing to arrange the room that would now belong to them alone.

“You know, perhaps if it had just been an unjustified outburst, I could have forgiven you. I could have looked past the hypocrisy, the accusations that defying my father made weak and unworthy,” they spoke again. “Perhaps if you had only called me stupid and weak, we could be allies once more. But you couldn’t stop there, could you? You couldn’t just insult what you perceived to be a lack of power, you had to make me feel used. As if this entire relationship was purely a tactical ruse.”

Minthara’s mouth worked faster than her mind. Before she could even think it through she blurted, “even now you cannot deny what a powerful force we were together.”

The words made Tav snap their head around to look Minthara in the eyes. “Don’t you dare try and dismiss my feelings with talk of strategy. I will not deny I was that I was drawn to you for the same reason you were drawn to me: because I thought you a powerful ally. But I do not share my bed with people just because they are ‘powerful allies.’ I do not learn about their favorite dishes and go out of my way to gather rare ingredients. I do not black out my own windows just so our home can be an oasis of darkness in this all too bright world. I do not rub their back and whisper sweet words to them as I hold them through nightmares. And I sure as hell don’t risk my own life in 1 on 1 duels with my own sister just for the sliver of hope that they could walk through this world a little less scared!” Durge’s eyes brimmed with tears and their bottom lip quivered. “You were so much more than a ‘powerful ally’ to me, Minthara. I did not love you because you were a matron of house Baenre. I did not love you because you were on the council of the dead three. I did not love you for the power I sought to gain from you. I loved you because you were my Minthara. My love for you may not have been a force that would save the world, but it did not make it less real or important. Power is not the only thing worth having. I would have gladly died by your side if it meant I could do so knowing that you loved me as I have loved you. If death was the only place we could be together, my dedication to you would not have faltered.”

Minthara stood in shock. She couldn’t not bring herself to move for fear that she may collapse onto the floor in a pathetic pile of tears.

“You will go to bed alone tonight, the bed we once shared, and you will sleep by yourself. And when you long for the comforts of home, you will not wake to find arrangements of mushrooms at your bedside. When forgotten moments of the past creep into your mind, and you reach for someone to hold you, you will find nothing but empty air. You will be alone and you will find it is not my ‘power’ that you truly miss.”

#I know deep in my heart she loves durge regardless of their choices #I’m gonna stay pissed about it #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 tav #bg3 minthara #minthara #minthara x tav #minthara x durge #bg3 durge #durge #dark urge #bg3 dark urge #minthara baenre #minthara x dark urge #bg3 spoilers

133 notes · View notes

sentinelpri · 3 months

Text

Just A Prank

James Wilson finds himself flustered as he leans against the wall of the diagnostics conference room with two pairs of eyes piercing right through him; one dark blue and one dark brown. Chase sits on the edge of the large table while Foreman sits in House’s spinning chair. Cameron, who would usually put a stop to what is currently going on, is out sick with a stomach bug she caught from a patient, and House is… Well, House. It’s over half past noon but Wilson figures House will show up some time in the next hour

With the rare dynamic of just Chase, Foreman, and Wilson, odd things are bound to happen; such as Chase suggesting that Wilson randomly kiss House as some sort of… Prank. Were it anyone else being asked to do this, Wilson might encourage it. House isn’t used to any displays of affection these days, let alone used to being caught off guard by them, so someone walking up and kissing the guy without any warning would elicit a pretty good reaction. But Chase is insisting that he, James Wilson, be the one to do it- not Cameron or Foreman or Chase himself, because apparently, that would be wrong. No, it just has to be Wilson.

“And I have to be the one to do this because…?”

“Kissing someone without their consent isn’t something that most people take kindly to,” Foreman points out.

“And you think he would take kindly to me doing it?” Wilson asks. “Also, I have to point out that it’s really not fair or correct to lump House into the category of ‘most people’.”

“I don’t think he’d ‘take kindly’ to it, per se, but you two already treat each other like that all the time,” Chase argues with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Weird pranks, crossing boundaries, doing things to each other that would normally be friendship ending… It’d just be a normal Tuesday for the two of you.”

“That… Is still totally inappropriate. I mean, romantic fraternization with other hospital employees. It’s technically against hospital policy. Everyone might’ve encouraged the date with Cameron, but that’s a little different than me just going up to the guy and kissing him,” Wilson continues, his face burning bright red.

On a normal day, he’s not so easy to read or so easy to embarrass, but he’s never been able to help it when it comes to House. The thought of kissing the man he’s been in love with since 1999 makes his head spin. He shouldn’t even entertain the thought, but with the ‘prank’ that Chase is suggesting, he does sort of have an excuse…

“What, like he’s gonna report you to Cuddy? If you don’t wanna do it, that’s fine, but at least make your excuse a believable one,” Foreman scoffs. “You know as well as we do that the man wouldn’t report someone to her unless they stole his Vicodin. Anything else is fair game to House.”

At that, Wilson stumbles over himself and nearly hits the floor. He doesn’t know what to say. With a sharp breath, he sits in the chair across from where Chase is on the tabletop and crosses his arms over his chest.

“That may be true, but-”

“And c’mon, it’ll be priceless!” Chase laughs with a mischievous grin. Part of Wilson wants to laugh along with him. The other half of him wants to reach across the conference room table and smack Chase in the head for coming up with something so stupid (and so tempting). “Don’t you want to see his face?”

“I can’t imagine how pissed he would be, so no, not really,” Wilson crosses his arms. He can feel his own gaze darting around the room, probably to avoid making eye contact with Foreman and Chase. “Where the hell did you two even get this idea?”

Wilson nervously paces the room, running his hands through his wavy brown hair.

“It wasn’t my idea,” Foreman quickly spits out, dark brown eyes shooting to Chase, who offers a shrug in return.

“What can I say? I was thinking of more ways to screw with House and it was something that came to mind. I’d argue it’s one of my best ones yet.”

Wilson wants to do it. He’s been looking for an excuse to cross that line with House for years. He shouldn’t, because once he does it, there’s a chance he’ll never be able to go back. Better yet, there’s a chance Wilson will kiss House only for the older man not to give a shit anyways. That’s arguably the worst case scenario. Wilson knows that, if it were to happen, he wouldn’t be able to look House in the eye afterwards. Then, House would know. It would be a nightmare.

No matter how badly Wilson wants to grasp at this opportunity, he’s well aware it could backfire. He gathers what’s left of his willpower to refuse.

“No,” Wilson says, shaking his head.

He hopes that’ll be the end of it. Chase, however, remains persistent.

“Look, if Foreman and I aren’t enough to convince you, how about this? I’ll cover your clinic hours for a month.”

“I’m not House- I don’t mind working in the clinic and I’m caught up on my hours. It’s actually a nice reprieve from my day to day.”

With a sigh, Chase reaches into his wallet and pulls out two bills. He holds them out to Wilson. Foreman holds his head in his hands with an exasperated expression.

“...If covering your clinic hours isn’t enough to convince you, how about two hundred dollars?”

Wilson is an oncologist who makes hundreds of thousands of dollars a year. His debt from medical school is already paid off and he lives a comfortable life despite the three divorces and subsequent alimony payments he’s wracked up. Yet, with Chase so determined to convince him… No one can say he jumped at the opportunity to do this. House will probably just laugh it off- find it hilarious- love that someone was playing him at his own game by pulling a prank so inappropriate and controversial. It’ll be fine, and if it does go to shit, he can just pin the blame on Chase for coming up with the idea in the first place.

So, against his better judgment, Wilson agrees.

“Fine.”

He reaches out to take the money from Chase’s hand and shoves it into the front pocket of his white coat.

“Where do you think he’s at, anyway? He’s usually late, but not this late,” Foreman stands and gestures to the clock on the wall. It’s already almost one in the afternoon.

Knowing him, he’s probably in the cafeteria. He doesn’t have any cases today, so he showed up late to avoid clinic duty and made sure to time it so he wouldn’t get here until the start of his lunch break. He’s just using it to find out where Cuddy is so he can avoid her for the rest of his shift since she can’t make him work during his scheduled break,” Wilson explains. “If I were you guys, I wouldn’t count on seeing him much today.”

“Oh, I know we don’t have any cases, I didn't want to see him for work purposes. I’ve just gotta be there for the big moment,” Chase says while excitedly gathering his things so he can stand and head towards the door. “Well? What are we standing here for? Let’s go; to the cafeteria!”

“You know if he figures out you’re behind this, he’s going to have you covering his clinic hours and shining his shoes for the next year, right?” Foreman chuckles.

“Wait,” Wilson’s eyes flicker between Foreman and Chase, who are now standing by the door and peering back as if they’re waiting for him to join them. “You- you want me to go do this right now?”

“Yeah, duh,” Chase answers. “Now let’s go!”

Chase and Foreman both leave the conference room. Wilson, too stunned to respond, takes a moment to catch up and follow them to the cafeteria. When they arrive, it’s easy to spot House. The man is six foot two and gorgeous, so Wilson manages to pick him out of the crowd in seconds.

House walks by himself in the middle of the cafeteria with a tray of food lazily held in one hand and his cane in the other. His narrow shoulders are adorned with one of the many t-shirts he’s stolen from Wilson and his favorite leather jacket. Wilson’s heart skips a beat when House smiles. The man is probably thinking about some interaction he’s had today where he’s fucked with someone- just for the fun of it. Wilson hates that he’s so in love with that antagonistic side of House, hates that he’s head over heels for House despite years of the older man meddling in his personal life, pulling shitty pranks on him, teasing him, and generally screwing with him at each and every turn.

Maybe this prank isn’t such a good idea. But, as nervous as Wilson is, even he can admit that House deserves to be the one being messed with for once.

“Oh, do you see him?” Foreman says.

“I do,” Chase pipes up and nudges Wilson’s side with his elbow. “Well, what are you waiting for? That money wasn’t for nothing- go for it!”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. You owe me twice as much if he starts beating me with his cane for pulling this crap while we’re at work,” Wilson grumbles.

He breaks away from Chase and Foreman and goes up to House, who catches his eye and offers a smile. Wilson forces himself to smile back as House meets him in the middle of the cafeteria with his tray still in hand.

“Hey, Wilson,” House greets, a twinkle in his icy blue eyes. Wilson swallows the lump in his throat and stares back at his friend, who shamelessly eyes him up and down. “What, cat got your tongue? Or did you swallow sandpaper? Seriously, the face you’re making right now makes you look like a constipated-!”

Before House can finish, Wilson goes for it. He places his hands on House’s shoulders, screws his eyes shut, and gently presses his lips into House’s. The other man’s mouth tastes like coffee and Vicodin. It’s a bitter and terrible combination, but it’s House, and Wilson realizes that this may be the only chance he gets to experience it. He commits it to memory, savors it, loves it as if it’s the man himself.

Wilson expects House to pull away. It doesn’t happen.

Fine enough- he figures it’s out of shock, and that House will pull away in a few moments. Wilson is proven wrong when he hears House’s lunch tray clatter to the floor. Surely then, House should retract to pick up the mess. Again, it doesn’t happen.

His cane falls right after the tray, and Wilson gets ready to move, but he finds himself frozen in place when House grips him by the collar and drags him in to deepen the kiss. He moves his mouth against Wilson’s, chapped lips consuming the oncologist’s softer ones.

Wilson is snapped out of it when he hears gasps and whispers in the cafeteria. He jerks back so he can look up at House. There’s no mirror around, but if there were, Wilson is sure he would see that his face has paled with horror. He can’t so much as make eye contact with House.

And for a moment, House appears smug; shit-eating grin, raised eyebrows, and that familiar darkness that takes over his gaze when he feels like he’s won something. However, that smugness is quickly washed away when House scans Wilson’s face.

“It-” Wilson stutters, unsure of how to explain what he was doing or why he was doing it. Unsure of how to react to House kissing him. Unsure of why House kissed him back at all, but especially unsure of why House kissed him back so fast. He barely manages to force out the breathless words his brain jumbles together in its panicked state. “It was just a prank. Chase, he- he thought it would be a good way to mess with you, paid me two hundred dollars. I’ll give you the money, if you want…?”

The initial disappointment that laced House’s expression just seconds before transitions into hardened anger; the kind of ice-cold rage that he so brilliantly displays whenever he feels like he’s been betrayed by someone he trusted. It makes sense. Even in his anxious state, Wilson is thinking rationally enough to know he deserves it and should’ve expected it. After all, House has never taken well to any form of embarrassment.

Without saying so much as a word, House retrieves his cane and swiftly turns to exit the cafeteria, leaving Wilson to pick up the mess of his lunch tray while everyone else stares holes into him.

The next day, Wilson is an anxious mess. He went to House’s office multiple times after lunch yesterday and couldn’t find the man. He called and sent multiple texts, and each and every one was ignored whether it was to House’s office phone, flip phone, or pager. He hasn’t been able to find House in any of the clinic rooms, in the conference room that the diagnostics team uses, or in any of the staff offices including his own, but he knows House is there as the team is apparently working on a new case. House has just done a masterful job of avoiding him specifically.

Wilson quickly comes to the conclusion that House is angry; justifiably so. On top of being kissed in a group full of their patients and colleagues, Wilson also accidentally rejected him in front of said people by jerking away from House’s kiss as if it were the plague and loudly announcing that his initiating of the kiss was just a prank. It’s a miracle the man didn’t quit on the spot and move across the country following that kind of humiliation, because Wilson knows he would have if it were him.

Wilson feels awful about it. All he wants to do is get a hold of House so they can talk in person and clear up this misunderstanding. House put himself out there by kissing Wilson back, pretty much confessed his feelings as eloquently as he could without using actual words, and Wilson went and fucked it up with his panicked response.

The brunette is sitting in his office stewing about the kiss; partially wishing he hadn’t done it in the first place, partially praying for it to happen again. He has a thousand things he should be doing instead; writing a speech for an upcoming conference, emailing patients, looking at lab results for said patients, scheduling consults. Sadly, all he can focus on is House and how badly he wants to find the diagnostician and confess his feelings before this situation can get any worse.

Poor Cameron returned to work today and is clearly uncomfortable with the tension, Chase is amused by the whole thing to an annoying degree, and Foreman is so clearly fed up with all of them. Wilson wishes things would go back to normal- or at least not be like this any longer. It’s only been one day and he’s already exhausted by it.

He has a lunch tray sitting in front of him with a bag of chips and a scrambled egg bowl that he’s hardly picked at. In front of him also sits his laptop, which is opened to show his emai inbox. Before Wilson can start sifting through said emails, the glass door to his office is slammed open so hard he’s surprised it doesn’t shatter and break. He looks up to see House, who angrily hobbles in.

If the situation weren’t so tense, he’d find the whole thing comical; House’s evident anger, House’s childish avoidance of him, the fact that they kissed in the middle of the cafeteria.

“So, it was just a prank,” House says, his tone accusatory.

“Uh,” Wilson nods, takes a sip from his water bottle, and clears his throat. “Yeah. Why did you kiss me back?”

“Well,” House scoffs, eyes darting around the room. He stands in front of Wilson’s desk and impatiently taps his cane against the floor; something he does when he’s trying to come up with an excuse for something. As per usual when he’s been rejected or perceives a discussion as a conflict, he goes on the defensive. “Obviously, I was just playing into the bit. That’s all it was, right? A joke?”

“House, you don’t have to lie. The cat’s out of the bag for both of us now so it’s honestly kind of embarrassing for you to-”

“Now give me the chips on your tray,” House huffs and walks behind Wilson’s desk to stand right next to where he’s sitting. He snatches the chip bag off of the lunch tray in front of Wilson but remains standing so close that Wilson can smell the sandalwood laundry detergent he uses wafting off of his outfit. “I’ve got a case to work on, and this one isn’t a cancer patient, so it has nothing to do with you.”

“But I-” Wilson objects in hopes that House will listen to him enough for them to talk this through, only to quickly be interrupted.

“One more thing,” House pauses.

Wilson is optimistic that they’ll finally get to talk like he’s been wanting. Instead, House puts the chips down, grabs Wilson by the tie, and yanks him up for a kiss. Wilson barely has the time to register the taste of toothpaste and breath mints prior to House pulling away and taking the chip bag back from the desk.

“What the hell-”

“Oh, sorry about that! Try not to get your hopes up or anything,” House says in a mocking tone and feigns a pitying expression as he briskly heads towards the glass door with his cane in one hand and Wilson’s stolen chip bag in the other. “After all, it was just a prank.”

And then, House is gone.

Wilson slumps down into his office chair and lets out a long, heavy sigh. As tempting as it is, it’s best not to chase after House in the middle of the hospital- the jackass will embarrass him someway, somehow. His dark brown eyes land on his now half-empty lunch tray, and then on his open laptop.

“Fucking breath mints… He planned to catch me off guard by coming in here and pulling that, didn’t he? …God, I’ve got so much to do.”

Another day passes with no progress. Wilson was hoping the situation would smooth itself out naturally, but it seems as if House is still equally as pissed as he was the afternoon Wilson kissed him in the cafeteria, so he decides he’ll simply have to find House and sort it out himself.

Wilson knows better than to try and do this honestly. House raged and ran out on him at the hospital the other day, and then avoided him and treated him like shit yesterday. Every call and every text from Wilson has been ignored while House’s team says he’s still responding to them as usual.

So, Wilson brings a box with him to House’s apartment complex. He knocks on House’s door, sets the box down, and quickly hides a few feet away to avoid being seen through House’s peephole. The moment House opens the door to retrieve the surprise ‘package’, Wilson approaches. House quickly scoffs and tries to retreat inside to shut the door, but before he can pull it all the way closed, Wilson blocks it with his foot.

“Nice trick, Jimmy. If I weren’t filled with such unbridled rage and disdain for you right now, I might be impressed. Did you forget you have a spare key?”

“Okay, House,” Wilson starts. He doesn’t bother acknowledging House’s quip about the spare key that was, in fact, forgotten on his keychain. “You’ve been avoiding me and I think we’re just a tad overdue for a nice, long talk about this.”

“What’s there to talk about? You kissed me and I kissed you back. You’re not stupid, Wilson,” House rolls his eyes. Realizing that Wilson isn’t going to give up, House swings the door open and stares down at him. Wilson shrinks into himself. While House’s face doesn’t betray his emotions, his hands certainly do. One of them is gripping the doorknob so hard that his knuckles are burning white, while the other is braced against the wall his cane is propped up on. He’s upset; angry, still. “You know how I feel now. There’s no need for an exchange of words.”

“W-Well, I-”

“I can’t even be mad at you, you know. That’s the worst part,” House rambles. Without any indication that he’s going to do so, he storms into his living room, leaving the door wide open. Wilson takes it as an invitation and slinks into the apartment where he shuts the door behind him and takes his shoes off at the entryway. House continues his rant and plops down onto his brown leather couch. “Going and kissing someone as a prank- if I would’ve been in your shoes with Chase telling me to do something like that, I would’ve done it to fuck with you without getting paid. I would’ve jumped at the idea, reveled in it, found it fucking hilarious!”

Wilson blinks, still standing awkwardly in the middle of House’s entryway.

“Then why are you so mad?”

“Because I loved it! I stood there and made out with you like a teenager in the middle of the cafeteria,” House pauses, shakes his head, and pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and finger. “...And I loved it. You know I haven’t been able to solve the case we got yesterday morning because of you? Chase solved it before I did! All because I’ve been letting my brain rot by using it to replay that moment over and over again, thinking of what I could’ve done differently to save myself that kind of embarrassment. I kissed you back, only for the whole thing to be a fucked up joke. Do you know how that feels?”

“You’re saying all of this as if I didn’t also enjoy it,” Wilson spits. To his utter dismay and frustration, House’s icy blue eyes narrow in suspicion. The damn idiot doesn’t believe a word he’s saying; the kiss, the prank, it’s broken the trust that they so blindly had in each other before it happened. It’s turned their entire world upside down. “Seriously, House, you think I would’ve kissed you for enough money even if I really didn’t want to do it?”

“I don’t know what to think,” House whispers, low, almost as if he’s talking to himself. He crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at the ground. His cane is haphazardly dropped on the floor in front of his bare feet. “I never thought you’d kiss someone at your job like that, much less me, and yet…”

“I’d kiss you in front of just about anyone if you’d let me. Maybe I just like you that much,” Wilson offers. He manages to muster up a smile along with the courage to look House in the eye again. As House stops to process what he’s just said, Wilson slowly walks over and sits next to him on the couch. “And… Maybe the prank was an excuse to kiss you, just to see what it’d be like. I never imagined you’d reciprocate. I panicked and didn’t know what to do because I was caught off guard. Before I did it, I mulled it over and came to the conclusion you’d find the whole thing hilariously disgusting, assume it was just for the money, and we’d never talk about it again. I guess I only got one of those things right.”

“Your deduction skills aren’t the best. They never have been,” House snarks. The anger seems to leave his body as he deeply inhales and exhales. His arms fall into his lap, and much to Wilson’s relief, he smiles back. “At first, I hoped it was a genuine gesture. It’s out of character for you to act out something so dramatic in public, but I’ve felt this way for such a long time that I got my hopes up, so when you panicked… Well, I’m sure you get it.”

“Yeah,” Wilson nods and reaches out to hold one of House’s hands. Surprisingly, it’s the first time they’ve done this, but House intertwines their fingers as if it’s natural for them. Wilson could get used to the warmth that comes from House’s calloused thumb gently stroking the back of his hand. “I think I do, but… It was wrong of me to agree to do that in the middle of the cafeteria for my own selfish reasons. I should’ve manned up and told you how I felt on my own instead of using that stupid prank Chase came up with as an excuse to kiss you and gauge your reaction.”

“I’m not going to deny that. Still, though, are we going to sit here and pretend like I didn’t deserve it to some extent? I know I’ve run you through the wringer for a long time, Wilson,” House laughs and leans back into the couch, eyes now trained on the ceiling above them. “I’m sure the sadistic part of you that you refuse to admit is there got some sort of satisfaction out of making me miserable for a day or two.”

“Not really,” Wilson chuckles. House is staring at him now. It looks like he wants something- maybe like he wants Wilson to say something specific- but Wilson isn’t sure what it is. “I wanted to shock you, maybe, not make you scorch-the-earth pissed for two days. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

“Well,” House smirks, icy blue eyes flickering to Wilson’s lips and then back up to meet the brunette’s gaze. “I do have one idea, but I’m afraid you may not be comfortable doing it without an audience; say, a cafeteria full of our patients and coworkers.”

Wilson scoffs and rolls his eyes, a fond smile taking over his face. He scoots closer to House and places his spare hand on the man’s thigh.

“Fortunately for you, I’m afraid you’re wrong- and yes, you are capable of being wrong.”

“Really? Then prove it.”

“Fine.”

With that, Wilson leans in and kisses House once again, the two men struggling not to grin against each other’s lips.

#james wilson #greg house x james wilson #gregory house #james wilson x gregory house #hilson fanfiction #hilson #house fanfiction #house x wilson #housemd #house md #oneshot #oneshots #drabble #drabbles

79 notes · View notes