#And we would just sigh in exasperation? Like it was SO OBVIOUS what we were saying‚ but they were just too 'out if touch' to understand us? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cafelattaes · 5 months ago

Text

afterglow | zcl

summary: in which you felt fed up with chenle and walked out after a fight, but you were uncertain whether he’d make an effort to save your relationship.

pairing: chenle x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 2.1k

you were having an argument with chenle. you tried to tell him that you felt a little uneasy about one of his female friends, but he downplayed your emotions and it irked you.

"don't you think you're being unfair?" you asked, frustration evident in your voice. "you're allowed to be jealous of every single person you think is hitting on me, but i'm not even allowed to feel upset that you have a close friend who obviously likes you?"

chenle responded dismissively. "it doesn't matter if someone likes me. all my friends know i'm head over heels for you. besides, none of my friends have openly told me they like me. i can't say the same to you and your so-called guy friends."

"i already rejected him," you countered, your voice rising. "how many times do i have to tell you that?"

"it doesn't look like you did because he's obviously still expecting something from you." he retorted, crossing his arms.

"i don't know how else to convince you. why do you always do this? every time i try to tell you how i feel, you always find a way to somehow turn it around on me, and it ends with you feeling more upset than i am."

"look, you don't need to worry about me. i couldn't care less about anyone who might like me. but you? you're too soft with that friend of yours. you might not see it, but it's obvious to everyone else how he hangs all over you. and you're not doing enough to stop it."

"but i don't like him, i never did and i never will. you also have nothing to worry about. why can't you let it go?"

chenle sighed, his eyes narrowing. "the same reason you can't let go of your concerns about my friend. no matter what i say, you're still upset and you're still jealous. that's exactly how i feel."

"so what do you want me to do?" you asked, exasperated.

"nothing. you can't do what i want."

"you want me to stop being friends with him? is that it?" you asked, incredulous. "will you do it for me if i ask you the same thing?" you challenged him. but chenle didn't respond; he just rolled his eyes and turned his back on you.

you felt so pissed off. chenle was always so unfair to you whenever you had a fight. you almost screamed at him to get out, but then you remembered you were at his house. you grabbed your things and turned to the door. you were about to leave when you heard chenle's voice.

"you're leaving because of something so petty? seriously?" he said with a scoff.

you gave him a dirty look, your hand on the doorknob. "you were about to storm off to your room and shut me out anyway. we obviously don't want to see each other right now, so what's the point of me staying?" you didn't wait for him to respond. you immediately left, slamming the door behind you.

you knew you were being immature, but so was chenle. you weren't about to let him slam the door on you again, making you feel shitty and guilty, when he clearly didn't feel the same remorse. somehow, even when the fight was his fault, you always ended up being the first one to apologize. that made your stomach churn with resentment.

you weren't always like this. during the first few months of your relationship, you and chenle rarely fought. even when you did, they were just small arguments and you would always make up immediately. but now, almost two years into the relationship, after the honeymoon phase had worn off, things had changed dramatically. you started getting into more frequent and intense fights, and the tolerance and understanding that you had at the start had also faded.

honestly, part of the reason why you're always the first one to give in is that, no matter how angry you get at your boyfriend, you can never stay mad at him for long. you fear that if both of you remain stubborn and no one's going to swallow their pride, the fight would escalate and break the two of you apart. chenle, on the other hand, always seems to have no problem ignoring you for a long time. it only intensifies your frustration and hurt, making you feel even more upset with him than you already are.

you've decided you won't give in this time, no matter what. you're scared that he might do the same, matching your stubbornness with his own. but if he can't even swallow his pride for you, the person he claims to love most, then maybe you're better off apart.

you don't want that though — not really. your relationship, despite its flaws, means too much to you. you just hope he does things differently this time.

after leaving chenle's house, you returned to your own place. you tried to sleep, but your anger and frustration had morphed into a gnawing worry that made your stomach tied up in knots. deep down, you weren't confident that he would do right by you this time. the realization made you feel conflicted. is it really worth staying with him if this is how he consistently makes you feel?

the thought sent a wave of sadness through you. despite everything, you loved him deeply. the idea of your relationship ending made your chest tighten with fear. you didn't want this to be the final straw.

tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over onto your pillow. as you cried silently in your room, a mix of emotions washed over you; love, frustration, hope and disappointment all tangled together. eventually, exhaustion took over, and you drifted off into a fitful sleep.

your last conscious thought was a small hope that when you woke up in the morning, you'd see his name on the screen accompanied by an apology you'd been waiting for.

chenle sat by the sofa, his eyes fixed on his phone, waiting for your call. since you had walked out after your fight the night before, you still hadn't come knocking on his door. this was the first time you hadn't talked for this long after an argument. fear started creeping up because of the prolonged silence from you. his chest tightened at the thought that you might have finally decided you'd had enough of him and realized you deserved better. he couldn't bear the thought of losing you. as the day was coming to an end, the setting sun cast long shadows across his room, signaling the passage of time and deepening his anxiety.

he could no longer sit still and wait for you to come to him. what was stopping him from coming after you anyway? he didn't know. but he realized he had been selfish for always waiting for you to mend things all this time. chenle felt like he could lose you easily to other people; you were surrounded by many who liked you and wanted to be with you. because of that, he always felt threatened. letting you come to him first after a fight somehow gave him a sense of security that you loved him enough not to let others steal you away from him.

but he realized now how dumb that was. instead, he could end up losing you because of his inaction. he snapped out of his reverie and grabbed his car keys, walking hastily through the door.

you heard someone ring your doorbell, and you checked to see who it was. your heart leaped in both happiness and relief at the sight of chenle standing outside your door.

if you weren't in a fight with him, you would laugh at how ridiculous he looked wearing sunglasses. you were pretty sure the sun had already set and it was dark outside.

you were feeling different kinds of emotions as you stood there. relief that he had come, nervousness about what he might say, and a stubborn remnant of hurt from your fight. you took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for whatever was to come as you opened the door, finally seeing him up close.

"can i come in?" chenle asked quietly. you didn't respond verbally, but opened the door wider, allowing him to enter.

you closed the door slowly before turning around to face him. chenle stood in the middle of your living room, looking uncharacteristically uncertain.

you leaned back against the door, arms crossed protectively over your chest, waiting expectantly for him to speak.

"i'm sorry," he said, his voice was soft and sounded a bit tired. "i'm sorry about everything. i was only thinking about myself and took your words lightly. i kept dismissing your feelings because i was blinded by my own jealousy. i didn't realize i was hurting you." he stepped closer, gently cradling your face in his hands. "please, forgive me. i don't want to lose you over some stupid fight. i know i haven't been the best at showing it, but i love you so much."

his words caused tears to well up in your eyes. for the past 24 hours, you had felt an uncomfortable tightness in your chest, each second away from him making you fear you were closer to losing him. you knew you both had much to discuss, and the way you communicated with each other needed improvement. but at that moment, you felt a surge of relief knowing that despite all the fights, chenle still loved you.

"thank you for coming to me, and i'm sorry too," you said, holding the hand that was caressing your face. "i have so many things to say... but first, can i take off your sunglasses? they're distracting." as you removed them, you felt your heart clenched at the sight. chenle's eyes were red and puffy, evidence of hours spent crying. the thought of him crying by himself made your sadness deepen, triggering your own tears as you immediately embraced him. "i'm so sorry for leaving you alone last night."

you didn't usually walk out during your fights, and your departure likely made chenle realize that this argument was unlike any other. he must have thought you had reached your limit. you now understood the depth of his fear of losing you, mirroring your own fear of losing him.

chenle encircled you in his arms, resting his head on your shoulder and burying his face in the crook of your neck. his embrace conveyed how much he had missed you.

"no, i am sorry. i deserved it," he murmured against your skin. "if you hadn't left, i probably would've done the same thing as before and not realized what i'd done wrong. you've been patient with me all this time. i'm sorry for all the times i ignored how you feel. i'll be better for you, i promise." he said, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead.

as you stood there in each other's arms, you both silently acknowledged the work ahead to strengthen your relationship. the warmth of your reconciliation filled the room, replacing the tension that had hung between you just moments before.

you and chenle were now cuddling on your bed. your chin rested on top of his head while gently running your fingers through his hair. the simple gesture made his heart flutter. his arm draped comfortably around your waist as he nestled against you, closing his eyes and basking in the peaceful aftermath.

as you lay there, feeling warm and loved, you felt so relieved. the tension from your fight completely melted away, and you felt even more in love.

chenle shifted slightly, tilting his head to look up at you. "i think i've figured out the secret to never fighting again."

you raised an eyebrow. "huh? what's that?"

"we just stay like this forever." he replied with a grin. "can't argue if we're too busy cuddling."

"tempting offer, but we'll get hungry eventually." chenle pretended to consider this seriously.

"then we take turns getting snacks while the other one guards the cuddle spot."

"guard it from what exactly?" he shrugged, snuggling closer.

"i don't know. cuddle thieves? it's a very coveted position, you know." you rolled your eyes in amusement.

"you're ridiculous."

"yeah," he leaned up to place a gentle kiss on your lips. "but you love me." he whispered against your mouth. you couldn't help but smile and steal another kiss from him.

as you snuggled back together, you felt calm and happy. in that moment, holding each other close, you both silently promised to stick together. you knew your love hadn't just survived, it had grown even stronger.

954 notes · View notes

someonexsomeone · 2 months ago

Text

Sweetness

Title: Sweetness

Author: SomeonexSomeone

Word Count: 3.3k

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader, James Potter x Lily Evans

Summary: The Marauders LOVED to watch you with Remus.

Authors Note: this was actually born from another fic i was writing that i hated scrapped and kept one sentence from lmao

“What are you idiots up to now?”

There was very little that could rattle Lily Evans. Her sister, Severus Snape, and, as reluctant as she wanted to admit it, James Potter, were just a few people, not to mention the very Gryffindor nature she adopted over the years making her susceptible to reckless actions, but she was getting the hang of it, honest! It was just that stupid Potter that set her on edge without having to do anything, and then he’d bat his pretty eyelashes at her and--

Ugh. Thinking about him made her feel nauseous.

She’d done her best to avoid Potter as much as possible, not that Dumbledore made it any easier assigning them as Head Girl and Boy (despite her many protests), but he seemed adamant on sticking by her side. Or, as Marlene suggested, not that Lily believed it anyway, that Potter was simply going about his day to day life and they just happened to share a few classes together and of course he would sit near her in the Great Hall since it was practically commonplace to sit near your yearmates, and why was she paying so close attention to him anyway?

“Because he’s so annoying it's impossible to ignore. Like a moldy cheese, his stink of annoyance just fills a room.”

“You know, Lily,” Marlene teased, drawing out every word. “Some people think smelly cheese is irresistible.”

She stormed away before she could think that her red face was attributed to anything but anger.

So, imagine her surprise when, the very person she was trying to avoid, was acting more a fool than usual, his butt hanging out of a classroom door with none of the decorum required of a Head Boy. Though, she mused, why did she expect anything different from him, even if he’d been acting more mature this term.

His goofy shocked face caused her heart to flutter, another symptom of her annoyance.

“Lily!” Potter whisper-shouted, somehow being incapable of speaking quietly even when it was so obvious he was trying. Sirius Black, used to his antics, knocked a knobby elbow into his side from his position on the floor, playful glare on his face as he shushed his better half.

“Quiet!” Black hissed, voice just as loud. Potter didn’t seem to notice, sending him a sheeping smile.

“Sorry!” he said, though his voice was only lower in pitch, not volume. Lily rolled her eyes. “What are you doing here? I thought you were studying with Marlene?”

“Stalking me now, Potter?” She was shocked, however, when Potter flushed red instead of his flirty remark.

“I-I would never! You know that, don’t you?” And then, as if he realized how pathetic he sounded, his mouth twitched into a grimace. “Unless, you--…you want me to?”

“Oh Merlin,” Black sighed, shaking his head, voice exasperated. “Marlene told us in case Dorcas finished her meeting with Professor Gropmorph early.”

This time, it was Lily who flushed in embarrassment. Thankfully, Remus took the perfect moment to open the door to the classroom, unamusement clear, even as Potter and Black toppled like dominoes face first onto Remus’s shoes.

“What are you idiots doing now?” Lily felt her chest swell in kinship, even as Remus’s face dropped in shock at spotting her standing there. “Lily?”

“I promise,” she said quickly, “I have nothing to do with this!”

“What…what are you doing here? What are any of you doing here?”

“Well, you see--!” Black scrambled to his feet, knocking James over in his attempt to get up faster. “I was just--...we were just--...”

“Rounds!” James shouted, gracelessly, despite his usual athleticism, using the door frame to pull himself up. Once he was on his feet, he swung an arm around Lily. When she tried to sidestep away from him, he kept his arm firm, and she pretended to hate it. “We were just doing rounds, right, Evans?”

It was a miracle these marauders didn’t get into more trouble if this is what they were like when they were lying. James was staring down at her with his big brown eyes, twinkling with hope. Black was making a subtle motion to play along, though it was in clear view of Remus, who eyed them suspiciously.

Why me?, she thought, miserably.

“...Yeah,” she finally said, though the moment had stretched on for far too long to be convincing. Black face palmed.

“Rounds? But it’s not even dinner yet?”

James cursed under his breath. Lily rolled her eyes. How could he forget his best friend was a prefect?

“It’s those new Head rounds, right?” Black provided. James slumped in relief, immediately nodding along.

“Yep! Yeah, new rounds for Head Girl and Boy. Wouldn’t have taken the job if I knew there was so much to do!” James laughed too loud, then abruptly stopped, whipping his head down to look at Lily. “Not that I’m not responsible! I agreed, so I’ll follow through. Promise!”

“...okay,” Remus agreed, drawing out the sound to fill the sudden awkward silence. He eyes Black, almost looking like he was going to ask what he was doing there, then decided better and kept the question to himself. Lily didn’t blame him. “Well, have fun…?”

“Yes, yes! You as well, whatever mysterious thing you’re doing in there!” Black babbled, practically pushing Remus back into the room, throwing a glare over his shoulder.

Just before the door shut, Lily swore she saw a familiar silhouette.

With the door now closed, and Black assured that Remus was far enough away, he whipped around, voice exasperated as he said, “Way to go, Prongs.”

“What?” Lily shrugged off Potter’s arm, and he had the decency to look embarrassed. “Oh, sorry. I panicked.”

“I could tell.” She made a show of whipping off her shoulder, but made no move to walk away. “What were you even doing?”

Potter opened his mouth to respond, but Black launched himself, covering his mouth with both hands. Potter's eyes widened, grabbing Black’s arms to push him away.

“Why are you curious? We’re not breaking any rules,” Black said suspiciously, voice trembling as he held his hands still. Lily eyed the two, Potter obviously not putting all his strength into the fight, then looked at the door.

“Remus is allowed to be in there,” she said instead of responding. She turned to Black, crossing her arms and standing her ground. “You, however, are being incredibly rude by spying on him.”

“He’s our friend,” Black argued, as if that justified his actions.

“Friends don’t spy on each other.”

“Friends don’t keep secret lovers.”

Immediately, the two looked at each other in equal shock, eyes widening in unison. Potter used the distraction to finally free his mouth, playfully spitting on the floor.

“Ugh, wash your hands, Pads.”

Lily blinked owlishly at Black, who looked horrified at what he revealed.

“Remus is dating--”

“We don’t know for sure,” James said before she could continue, warily glancing at the closed door. Deciding it would be best to move away, he nodded his head at Black, then gestured Lily down the hall, an illusion of privacy she found she appreciated. Once they were a good ways down, where the door all but disappeared into the lopsided cobbled wall, James continued, “It’s just a hunch we’ve had.”

“A hunch?”

“Our Moony is very protective of his pack--” Potter coughed pointedly at Black, who just rolled his eyes, “--of friends.”

“What he means,” James cut in, “is that Moony is very selective of who he gets close to. Childhood trauma and all that. He just hasn’t gotten around to introducing us yet.”

Lily thought they were being very nonchalant for discussing childhood trauma, but she shrugged it off, reminding herself these were the boys who thought dungbombs were funny because they smelled like farts.

“And you were…what, trying to find a good time to introduce yourselves?” Potter turned sheepish while Black laughed.

“Not…not exactly.”

“Not that you would know, dear Evans, but our Moony is quite the romantic.”

“Remus? Remus Lupin?” Lily conjured the shy Remus she knew, the one who stuttered the first time they interacted, who she recalled being too quiet to stand up to his friends’ wrongdoings, but helped in every other instance. Remus, who she rarely saw with anyone but his roommates, despite the countless people throwing themselves at his feet for a date.

Black nodded, long hair swinging around his shoulders.

“The most. Would put Calyna Ollapianne to shame.” Although Lily was lost, no doubt one of many pop culture wizards she hadn’t had the time to discover, the way Potter was nodding his head made her inclined to believe it was a good thing. Maybe Mary would know, she wondered to herself, she’s always been into wizarding things.

“And, you see, he’s shy.” To this, Lily nodded. “So, when he does fancy someone, he doesn’t always have the courage to say something.”

“Except!” Black’s mischievous smile made her nervous. “Our dear Moony, who usually runs away tail between his legs when a pretty thing walks by, is currently locked in a room, far from other students or distractions, supposedly tutoring a very pretty thing.”

Lily stopped, her two companions falling in line to look at her, identical smiles on their faces. If she didn’t know Black had been staying with the Potter’s, she might have been weirded out. Instead, she only felt confusion, looking back over her shoulder to the hallway they just abandoned. Black was practically bouncing on his feet as he waited for her response.

“So…”

“Yes?”

“Remus is currently tutoring a fellow classmate and your…disrupting him?” Black sighed dramatically, obviously not what he was expecting to hear from her.

“Come on, Evans. You’re not the littlest bit curious?” He gestured down the hall. “We just let you in on one of our biggest secrets and you can’t even give me a dramatic gasp?”

“One of--?”

“We don’t bother them,” Potter reassured before she could continue, giving her a softer smile, one that relaxed her nerves, as much as she hated to admit it. “We just…want to make sure he’s doing alright. Provide emotional support, or whatever.”

Lily looked, really looked, at James as he stuttered over his words, pointedly avoiding her eyes. Even with his tanned skin, she could see the beginnings of a flush creeping up his neck, painting the tips of his ears rosy. The more she looked, the more he stammered, hands waving wildly, knocking into Black, though neither of them really acknowledged it, too busy studying her or too used to it, she didn’t know. She tucked away the knowledge that her stare made him stumble over her words.

By the time his voice was getting shrill, pathetically forming messy sentences that somehow implicated him and Black in a torrid affair with Remus, a familiar boy rounded the corner.

“Hey! Sorry, am I late?” Pettegrew called, face red and sweaty from no doubt running to meet up with his friends. “I got here as fast as I could.”

Though Remus was by far her favorite Seventh Year boy, Peter Pettigrew was high on her list, thanks to his inability to talk without his friends nearby. Lily hadn’t had many interactions with him, beyond the odd Gryffindor camaraderie at matches and being paired up in class, but there was something about the way he followed along behind his friends, as if he was completely spineless, set her on edge. Pathetic, she hated to admit, was one of the few words she associated with him, and she felt bad enough about it that she often went out of her way to be extra kind to him. Like now, as she gave him a small smile. Pettigrew gave her a toothy one in return when he spotted her.

“Oh, Evans! I didn’t know you liked watching Moony too!”

“Watching…?”

“Yeah!” He laughed, setting Black and Potter on edge. “These two are obsessed with watching Moony get all lovey--”

“You’re such a snitch!” Black yelped before he could continue, locking Pettigrew’s head in the crook of his arm, pushing his fist into the top of his head and rubbing until both of their hair was askew.

“I thought you were there to provide ‘moral support’?” Lily questioned, side eyeing Potter, who started to stutter again.

It should have been obvious, she mused, that they were lying about being there for his friend. As long as she’s known them, they were always up to something. Niceties hiding deception, innocence hiding trickery. Even if he’d matured in the past term, actually being a good Head Boy despite her reluctance to admit it, old habits die hard.

“We really are! It’s just--...It’s just…” Potter’s stutter, despite usually making her want to roll her eyes, made her feel a little bad. After all, they were a collection of contradictions. Who's to say he couldn't be spying for good and bad reasons? She nearly pinched herself at the thought.

Black, noticing his friend's dilemma, loosened his hold to step closer. Pettigrew used the distraction to pull his head away, surprisingly knocking a leg out to trip Black, sending him tumbling into Potter, and both of them onto the floor.

“They're looney,” Pettegrew rushed out, a mischievous smile on his face. Potter and Black wiggled against each other on the floor, untangling limbs to stop their friend from saying more. “Obsessed with how Moony gets all soft. Did they tell you their favorite thing is when he stands behind to guide wand movement with his whole body? ‘Oh, Prongs, hold me like Moony does!’, ‘Pads, Pads! Do you think they’ll kiss later?’!”

“Snitch!” Potter shouted this time, launching himself across the floor towards Pettigrew’s knees, knocking them down. The two grappled on the floor, Pettigrew laughing while Potter stuttered apologies towards Lily, swearing they weren’t creeps, while Black rose beside her, cackling and cheering them on, an annoying ‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’ that brought on a migraine she did not need to deal with right now.

“What are you doing?” All four of them froze, the unexpected stern voice rattling them to their bones.

Lily was the first to turn, wince pulling her eyebrows to her nose as she watched Remus hurry down the hall, obvious exasperation on his face. She felt even worse as she spotted you trailing behind him. It was obvious they weren’t as quiet as they hoped, pulling you from the tutoring session Remus had gone through the trouble of renting a room for.

“Lily?” You called, evidently more confused to see her than the two locked in a wrestle on the floor. “What are you doing here?”

“I was--...I was just--…” She felt foolish stumbling over her words like that. It was a public hallway, she had every right to be here just as the others did, and she wasn’t one of the bubbling fools getting their uniforms dirty while they rolled on the floor. Well, she wasn’t one of the fools, but she had to admit she was very much bumbling.

“Why are you two always on the floor?” Remus said, exasperated. He reached down, hauling Pettigrew to his feet, much to Potter’s dismay, who had to rise on his own, Black still too busy eyeing you up. She could have sworn she saw Remus send a sharp glare in Black’s direction, but the harshness completely vanished as he looked at you again. Instead of the mean look he reserved for his friends, his eyebrows relaxed, face going rosy as he apologized. “I’m sorry, we’re meant to be studying.”

“Yeah, studying…” Black murmured under his breath, much too loud to be a private thought. Lily stomped on his foot not too discreetly in retaliation. “Merlin’s beard--!”

She turned to stick her tongue out at him, a very irresponsible thing to do as Head Girl but there was something about these troublemakers that made her feel like a little kid again, but before she could do more, Potter elbowed her harshly in the side. When she whipped toward him, he had an embarrassed flush on his face, evidently not meaning to hit her so hard, but he gestured quickly back to you. Only curiosity had her pulling her eyes away from him.

“It’s alright, Rem.” Lily watched as Remus all but melted at the nickname, easily dodging around the group to return to your side. His hand hovered over your shoulder, then dropped, either too nervous or too aware of the watching eyes to actually touch you. It didn’t stop his fingers, however, from twitching towards you as you gave him a smile. “It’s getting close to dinner anyway.”

“Sorry about them.”

Black wiggled his eyebrows at Lily as Remus’s voice dropped to something sickly sweet, lower and smoother than she was used to hearing. However, as he flicked his eyes towards his friends, all in unison the boys whipped their heads away, whistling or otherwise pretending to not be paying attention. Lily flushed, then looked to her feet, disbelieving that she was following along. But, she hated to admit, this was much too good to walk away from.

“They're fun. And, we can always pick up where we left off tomorrow. No big deal.” You seemed to have no qualms touching him, your hand reaching out to squeeze one of his in reassurance. Lily lifted her eyes just in time to watch a scattering of goosebumps litter the back of his neck, just above the collar of his messy button up. “Same time?”

“Yeah, same time.” She could almost hear the sadness in his voice, easily picturing puppy ears sprouting from his head at how downtrodden he was at leaving you. You seemed to agree, laughing, and then reaching out to gently pat his face. “Have fun at dinner.”

“You could always join us, you know!” Black called out when you pulled away, surprising everyone by daring to speak out and break the gentle atmosphere that surrounded you two. Remus whipped his head around to glare, though he failed as his eyes widened in shock, motioning to cut it out. Potter hissed under his breath in tandem with Lily’s pinch to his side, but Black simply let a smooth smirk pull across his lips, ignoring everyone’s not so subtle hints. “Remus always talks about how much he misses you--”

In perfect unison, Lily stepped out of the way, latching onto your arm to pull you away, while James slapped one of his big hands across Black’s mouth, giving you a bright smile.

“--your tutoring lessons!” he gasped out, glancing at Remus quickly before returning his smile to you. “Loves--likes what a good student you are! Best one he’s ever had!”

“Potter was just telling me how good Remus was. Tell me about it?” Lily suggested, piggybacking off Potter’s obvious lie, tugging you down the hallway. You looked at her quizzically, obviously wondering why she suddenly was all buddy-buddy with you when you two hadn’t shared so much as a whole conversation before, but you didn’t press.

“Alright?” She felt giddy as a soft smile stretched across your lips, neck craned awkwardly so you could turn to look back at Remus, waving your hand. “Bye, Remus. Thanks again.”

“Yeah! Yes! Anytime!” Lily giggled to herself at the fumble, his hand waving a bit too frantically to be casual, but it seemed to only endear you more, nearly tripping over your feet so you could continue to look at him.

The two of you barely managed to round the corner before Black’s obnoxious voice rang out, “Way to go, Moony! You sly wolf!”

Yes, it seemed those marauding boys had a hobby of watching your interactions with Remus, somehow managing to do it in the creepiest, most intrusive way possible. But, she thought as you laughed, wistfully looking over your shoulder, she saw the appeal.

And, if she found herself in this hallway again tomorrow, now, that was surely just a coincidence.

______________________________________________________________

masterlist l hogwarts masterlist

#someonexsomeone #hogwarts one shot #harry potter imagine #marauders imagine #marauders one shot #remus x reader #remus lupin imagine #hogwarts imagines #hogwarts imagine #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff #marauders fluff

405 notes · View notes

qwimblenorrisstan · 3 months ago

Text

Lesson Learnt | John Price x Reader

Summary: Your good-for-nothing boyfriend won’t help you change out your flat tire in the cold, soaking rain, but luckily someone else comes along to assist, and teaches your boyfriend a lesson while he’s at it.

Word Count: ~ 1.6k

Warnings: annoying boyfriend, toxic relationship, platonic!gaz being a cutiepie, price being the greenest flag known to mankind, fem!reader, I’ve never changed a tire before in my life and it’s glaringly obvious…

A/N: been in a major writing slump lately+school kicking my butt+I think I’m getting sick, but full credit to @ceilidho for this idea, hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Masterlist | Next

Your day hadn’t been the shittiest so far, but it certainly hadn’t been great.

You’d been off that day, but your boyfriend had called, needing you to pick him up early from his job for whatever reason. He only worked at some little restaurant in town with a decent salary, enough to get food and rent paid for combined with your money anyway. Something about his shifts being moved or the schedule being off, but whatever it had been had been enough for you to hop into his truck, drive over to him, and pick him up.

“Did you cook for dinner tonight?”

He asked from the passenger seat, the seatbelt not even on, despite it already being dark because of the early winter months, and the rain coming down against the windshield. Your lights were on, but still.

“No, wasn’t thinkin’ about it.”

You replied with a small mumble, and he sighed. You were the one who cooked and kept the housework up, and he earned most of the money. It would be balanced, except for the fact that you earned almost the same amount of money as him, and also worked full-time. It barely left any time for meals, most just being pre-prepped on weekends, or thrown together.

“Guess we can just get takeout then.”

He said, tone holding a bit of disappointment. You sighed inwardly, turning your turn signal on as you went down the road to one of the nearest places there. It was a run-down chicken joint that you were pretty sure was a front for some sort of illegal activities, but they had delicious chicken at cheap prices, so you weren’t complaining.

Your mind began to wander when you thought about the restaurant, and what you’d order. You hoped your boyfriend had brought his card because you’d left your wallet at home, ID and license long forgotten. Well, I guess you were just hoping to not get pulled over tonight, or come in contact with any cops.

As if whatever gods there were had heard your thought process, a small ‘thump’ caught your attention, and then a light squeaking sound as the air pressure in your front right tire began rapidly decreasing. With a sigh, you pulled over onto the side of the not-too-busy road. Your boyfriend gave an exasperated exhale.

“We’re gonna have to change the tire.”

You said, and he gave you a withering glance, jerking his chin towards the back of the truck.

“Spare’s in the back. Got a few tools back there to get ‘er done.”

A small pause for a moment as your hand reached for the handle of the door, and he didn’t move at all. You just stared in pure shock.

“You aren’t going to help?”

He gave you a look as if to say you were being ridiculous and illogical right now. You hated that look.

“I just got off work. I’m tired and hungry, and your poor driving skills aren’t my problem.”

He said with a shrug like it was obvious. Your mind still reeling, you searched for the little umbrella you kept near the console, only to find it missing. Great, just great, you thought.

With no other option, you stepped outside, immediately being pelted by the cold raindrops, and skin being lashed at by the harsh wind. You walked around to the trunk, opening the back, and finding the spare tire there, and a toolbox as well. Your shivering hands sorted through the cold metal tools, eventually finding a lug wrench, and a screwdriver, and behind the toolbox you found a jack.

You advanced towards the flat tire, rolling the spare behind you, and you knelt, skirt already soaking wet, your white shirt soaked through and not leaving much to the imagination as it was practically see-through and sticking to your form. The lug nuts didn’t come off easily, but somehow, your fingers got them.

Right when you began using the screwdriver to try and get the hubcap off, something else caught your attention.

Another car, beat up, but well-loved on and taken care of pulled up behind you on the side of the road. It stopped, and two men stepped out. One was taller, with a beard, a thick cigar in his mouth, and a hat on. He might’ve been one of the owners of that chicken restaurant. Whatever it was, he looked familiar. The other man had pretty brown skin, was less tall but still had some muscle in him like the other man, and wore his hat.

The taller one strode up to you just as you managed to pry the hubcap off. His brows furrowed as he looked at your boyfriend sitting in the car, and you, drenched in rain, changing the flat tire of the truck he assumed probably wasn’t even yours.

“Gaz, come help ‘er out wit’ this.”

He said, his voice brusque but also warm at the same time. Realizing he hadn’t introduced himself yet, he gave a nod of his head to you.

“John Price, that there is Kyle, but we call ‘im Gaz.”

You blinked, and Kyle walked over, crouching down next to you and offering a polite smile. One that didn’t quite meet his eyes, but it wasn’t rude. Price must’ve noticed your shivering form or the sheer white shirt that was clear because of the rain because he took his brown jacket off and put it around your shoulders. The insides were fuzzy and warm, and it was oversized, but enough to keep the heat insulated and the wet cold out. A bit surprised, you simply said your name.

“Oh..thanks. Y/N.”

You offered, for some reason trusting these strangers enough to give them your real name. Something about them felt right. Price nodded, then raised a brow at your boyfriend in the car, who still hadn’t noticed them, too preoccupied with his phone.

“What’s a pretty birdie like you doin’ changin’ wheels out here?”

John asked, and you weren’t sure what overcame you, but you cast a glance up at the boy in the car.

“He wasn’t going to help.”

Gaz and Price both looked slightly taken aback by that, exchanging glances, as Price opened up the door where your boyfriend was (avoiding hitting you or his sergeant's heads with it, of course) and pulled him out by the collar.

“Hey—what-“

Price shut him up real quick, then moved to hold him by the scruff of his neck.

“Now you listen here, why’ve you got your girl ou’ here doing all this work in the soakin’ rain, when you should be the one doing this, yeah?”

He asked, and your boyfriend turned a light shade of pink that wasn’t fully visible in the dark of the night.

“Well, I..”

“I’ll show you how a real man provides for his partner. Garrick, move over.”

He shoved your boyfriend back into the grass, and Gaz scooted more to the right, letting Price take the left side. Price carefully grabbed you by the hips and moved you back, out of the way, but to where you could still watch and hear him talk.

“Can’t believe it, ‘at’s ridiculous.”

He muttered, and Kyle shook his head.

“Can’t help but agree, sir.”

They used the jack to jack the car up, strong arms easily placing the spare tire in place, Gaz holding it up while Price screwed the lugnuts back on. While putting the hubcap back on, John began talking to you.

“You oughta find you a man, someone that would provide for you, that lil’ boy you got isn’t it. We’d never treat a woman like that, now would we, Gaz?”

“Never, sir.”

“Look at ‘im, two complete strangers are here, changing out his tire, and he ain’t offered a lick o’ help.”

He said, shaking his head, not even glancing back at your boyfriend who still was sitting in the grass behind you all. The hubcap was put back into place, and they both stood, lowering the jack before removing it. Price offered you a hand up, and you took it, surprisingly enjoying how his burly callouses felt against your soft skin. Kyle put the tools and jack back in the trunk, before again being at Price’s side.

His eyes met Kyle’s, and Kyle took out a small notepad and pen, scribbling something down, before passing it to John who did the same. They tore the paper off, handing it to you. It was their numbers, Gas’s having a little smiley face next to it, and Price’s having a simple ‘Call me’.

“If you’re ever in trouble, give us a ring.”

Price said, and Gaz nodded as if to confirm this. You took the piece of paper and folded it in half, putting it in your pocket to protect it from the rain. Price gave you a little pat on the back, and Gaz brushed his hand ever so slightly against yours, before they both walked back to their car, getting in, and driving off with nothing more than a wave.

With a judgemental look down at your boyfriend, you got into the car, throwing his things that were still inside out at him where he was still sitting in the grass.

“We’re done.”

And with that, you drove off before his angry cussing started.

It was only when you got home that night (to the shared apartment, which you would very soon be leaving) that you noticed something. Price hadn’t ever taken his jacket back.

#john price #captain john price #john price x reader #writers on tumblr #price x reader #cod fanfic #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod

438 notes · View notes

heartseungs-archive · 4 months ago

Text

dance to this | l.hc

word count: 3.8k | genre: dancer! haechan x dancer! reader, university au, slight enemies to lovers | warnings: none

Donghyuck is an ace. He knows this from the way Taeyong chooses him to be the centre of too many of their performances, and the way too many of his clips have gone viral online.

Donghyuck is annoying. He knows this from the way Doyoung groans in exasperation at every one of his stupid pranks, or when Mark finally loses his patience and shouts across the room at the top of his voice.

But above all of that, Donghyuck is very, very competitive. He doesn’t make it obvious, but the need to win is always simmering beneath the surface, especially for the things that matter. He knows this because you are always there, in his peripheral vision, reminding Donghyuck that he needs to be better than you.

You’re an ace too, even if Donghyuck doesn’t want to admit it. The entirety of the Yonsei male student population is likely in love with you and has posters hung up in their room. You’re also annoying, or at least Donghyuck thinks so. He’s sure the rest of the team would disagree, but you’ve got them wrapped around your finger.

“I’m not partnering with someone who can’t even moonwalk properly,” he bites, and you glare back at him.

“Says the one who tore his jeans at rehearsal last year trying to do a split.”

“That was just because the jeans were too tight. I assure you I am fully capable of doing a split.”

“Oh yeah? Let’s see it then. See, you’re hesitating-”

“Guys! For the love of God, can the two of you cut it out? It’s like I’m dealing with two toddlers.” Taeyong stands in front of you and Donghyuck, looking frazzled as always. Next to him is Karina, who simply rolls her eyes. Taeyong is no stranger to you and Donghyuck bickering at all hours of the day, but he’s especially tired with the upcoming recital. For that sole reason, the both of you fall silent like sullen children, looking at him.

“Sorry,” you mutter, and Taeyong smiles gently at you.

“It’s fine. We just really need this performance to go well, okay? And the both of you doing a duet will garner the most attention.”

Donghyuck sends a pointed look to Karina, who nods in assent. He sighs dramatically, enough for you to cast a sharp glance over. The dance studio is empty save for the four of them, everyone else not yet here. “Okay.”

“Me too. I’m in if Donghyuck cooperates,” you reply, and Taeyong breaks out in the most brilliant smile you’ve ever seen, lighting up his entire face.

“What do you mean if I cooperate? You’re literally the most argumentative person I’ve ever met-”

Taeyong's smile quickly disappears.

However, Karina puts a hand on the small of his back, guiding him out of the room, and the door slamming shut cuts Donghyuck’s spiel short. Just before you can send another jab Donghyuck’s way, however, Mark and Jaehyun come in, while Ningning and Giselle follow quickly after.

It’s time for practice, and you suppose there’s another thing Donghyuck can add to the list. That the both of you are professional enough to keep the childish comments outside of your actual work, and you suppose it’s the only reason Karina hasn’t bought duct tape to forcibly mute the both of you yet.

You’re sitting on the floor, out of breath and with a light sheen of sweat on your face when Donghyuck’s performance starts. Well, it’s a team performance, really, but your eyes are always on him. Compared to the majority of his audience, though, your gaze is always assessing, not admiring. His dynamics, control, sharpness, everything. You sear his image into your brain, just to compare it to your own movements in the mirror later.

Still, there’s a fluidity to Donghyuck that you’ve never been able to replicate perfectly, as much as you try. It’s something so distinct to him, the way he moves across the floor like he’s walking on water. It takes your breath away, but you’ll never tell him that. Just like how he’ll never admit that you’re much better than him at capturing details in dances, and the way you do it makes standing out effortless.

The way your sharp eyes follow Donghyuck as he moves seamlessly across the room makes him weirdly determined to make this the best performance yet. Your presence is a source of pressure, but Donghyuck performs well under pressure anyways.

The sky is quickly turning a midnight blue when Taeyong calls an end to the practice, and everyone’s made a temporary home on the wooden floor of the dance studio. It’s a familiar and comforting sight, seeing some of them on their phones, others lying on the couch, or going through their routines in the corner.

This is what makes up Donghyuck’s world. The four walls of the dance studio. Of course, he supposes his degree in Business is one integral part of his life, but it’s so much less exciting for him. Donghyuck derives an enormous amount of exhilaration from every minute, every second that he’s on the stage, spotlight shining.

He’s one of the last to leave, waving to Taeyong and Karina who give him a cursory greeting in return. They work so much harder than the rest of the team to perfect the formations, and Donghyuck’s sure that they’re both bound to get together at some point. He’s never seen two people more similar.

Other than you and him, maybe.

That’s the exact thought running through his head as he strolls past the exit of the building and turns a corner to the familiar alleyway. You’re leaning under a streetlight, phone in hand and earbuds plugged in. Your features are delicate, and the blue glare of the phone reflects off your face.

Besides being annoyingly talented and competitive, Donghyuck is also in love with you.

There was a time when he genuinely disliked you. Three years ago, when he couldn’t understand why someone new was being accepted into the dance team and was sharing the position of centre with him. If he looked back now, the Donghyuck back then would seem so very immature, nothing more than a boy afraid of being replaced.

It took him a while to realise that he didn’t mind. Enjoyed it, actually. The fact that someone else understood the burden of being under the spotlight, the responsibility of heightening the team’s energy and bringing out the very soul of the performance. You were also immensely capable and pushed Donghyuck to do better. Be better.

Somewhere along the line, dislike changed into grudging admiration, to a tentative friendship, and then into butterflies that fluttered wildly in Donghyuck’s stomach every time you looked at him.

And then one night, all it took was a few too many bottles of soju and the empty dance studio for him to take that very final leap. The both of you had stumbled out of the arts faculty building afterwards, tipsy and giggling. It’s still one of Donghyuck’s favourite memories that he has of you, clinging onto him and refusing to go into your dorm building.

There are very few feelings that surpass the pride that Donghyuck feels when he finishes a routine perfectly. However, one of them is the feeling of your lips on his. The other is the way you look when you wake in the morning, eyes half-lidded and hair messy.

And of course, like some cliche trope, the both of you had not yet told the rest of the team of these… not-so-recent developments. And the longer you went, the easier it was to just pretend there was no real need to tell them. After all, it’s not like you and Donghyuck didn’t argue anymore, if not made obvious by the events of the afternoon. It was just that the bickering was now purely for entertainment, and the both of you acted much sappier to make up for it when no one was watching.

There was a fear that the knowledge would just bewilder most of them, considering the fact that they thought the both of you disliked each other vehemently. Karina also did mention that workplace relationships were strictly not allowed, even though she technically had no right if 1. none of you were on her payroll and 2. she had the biggest crush on Taeyong.

“Hey there,” Donghyuck says, smiling, as he grabs an earbud and places it in his other ear so that he can still hear anything you say clearly.

“Hello. Tired?” You ask as you interlace your fingers with his, but not before casting a quick glance around your surroundings. He shakes his head, and the both of you remain in a comfortable silence until you’re seated comfortably in his car with the heater on at full blast. It’s the middle of winter, and as much as you enjoy the snow, the chill also gets bone-deep. You grab the blanket from its familiar spot in the back of the car, tugging it over your legs.

Donghyuck’s apartment is far enough from campus to not be crowded, but it’s not so isolated that it’s inconvenient. You find yourself spending a lot more time at his apartment these days, so much that you almost have an entire shelf in the closet that stores your clothes.

“You should move in,” he had said one day, after the both of you finished a movie. You definitely wouldn’t mind. After all, living with Donghyuck would be comfortable. He did have a tendency to scatter his clothes all over the room, but he was mostly tidy. He also didn’t mind doing the dishes, and the only real problem you would have would be him singing at the top of his voice at all hours of the day. Even that was more enjoyable than annoying.

“How can I move in if you have the guys over almost every week to game? We’d get found out in no time,” you replied from where you were standing at the fridge, and Donghyuck muttered something like we can just tell them, then, but you were unsure if you had heard him right.

“Did you say something?” You asked, looking at him expectantly. However, Donghyuck didn’t say anything, instead smiling at you, and you tried to hide the disappointment that welled up in you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Donghyuck’s question jolts you out of your recollections, and you shake your head. His hand is interlocked with yours and rests gently on your lap, even though you’ve told him before that he should try to keep both hands on the wheel. However, the roads are deserted this time of night, so you suppose you’ll let him have his way.

The moment you enter his house, you’re quick to collapse on his couch and close your eyes, but you’re immediately dragged off. “Ouch,” you mutter when you land unceremoniously on the carpet, but Donghyuck just grins. “You need to shower, and so do I. Unless you want to sleep on the couch tonight.”

“The both of us know you would be the one sleeping on the couch anyways,” you retort, and Donghyuck just rolls his eyes before he passes you a towel and extra clothes. His sweatpants, and a band tee that's a little too small on him.

You have five sets of your own clothing folded neatly on the second shelf of his closet on the right. Even then, you take his.

An hour later, you’re scrolling on your phone when Donghyuck comes out of the bathroom, towel round his neck. He’s quick to make his way over to the couch, and you move your phone out of the way before he can accidentally knock it over.

“You big baby,” you scold half-heartedly as he sprawls over you, legs tangled with yours. He hums contentedly from where his face is nestled into your shoulder, and you try not to smile.

“Donghyuck.”

“Hm?” He places a soft kiss on your neck, and your fingers fiddle with his hair. It’s getting longer, you realise, since the last time you cut it for him. It had taken a few too many video tutorials, but you were getting better at it. Not that a bad haircut would ruin Donghyuck’s looks anyways. However, when your first attempt had not been so ideal, he had taken it upon himself to be your personal make-up artist. Your relationship with Donghyuck has always been like that. Push-for-pull. Neither of you is the kind of person to back down, but you suppose that’s what makes being with him so exciting.

“Can you make me ramen?” You can feel it when Donghyuck huffs, and he raises his head to look at you. “Is that all I’m good for? I feel like I’m a personal chef instead of your boyfriend.”

You nod, making your expression as serious and earnest as possible. Still, he gives in and gets up, making his way over to the kitchen. You’re quick to follow him, however, grabbing everything he needs. It’s a routine at this point. You’re in charge of ingredients, Donghyuck overseeing cooking.

You grab a vinyl from the tall shelf next to the television, placing it gently into the gramophone. This is one of Donghyuck’s favourite records, and you find yourself humming to it as well as the music filters gently out. You remember his expression of awe when he had opened your present on his birthday.

“Y/N, you didn’t.”

“I did. You can’t possibly have that many records and no gramophone to play them.”

“But this is so expensive.”

“It was just a bunch of extra shifts at the cafe,” had been your nonchalant reply, and Donghyuck’s eyes were soft when he looked up at you, almost glistening. The both of you were seated on the floor, the cake half-eaten on Donghyuck's table that both functioned as a study area and a place to eat.

“Thank you, Y/N. But,” Donghyuck leans over, until he’s barely centimetres from you. His lips are next to your ear, and you can hear your breath hitch.

“I’ll get you an even better present next year. You know me. I can’t lose.” His grin is full of mirth now, and you scoff.

“Even for this?”

“Even for this.”

“It’s still in such good condition,” you mumble to yourself as your fingers brush over the lacquered wood.

“Of course it is. You gave it to me.” You didn’t realize Donghyuck had heard you, but his comment causes your heartbeat to speed up just slightly. The pot is simmering gently on the stove, and Donghyuck turns to look at you. Here, away from the glaring fluorescent lights of the studio, is your favourite version of Donghyuck. Not the dance team’s ace, the mini campus celebrity, but your Donghyuck.

Of course, you love the other versions of him too. But this, the Donghyuck standing under his kitchen lights with grey sweatpants and messy hair, is a sight that belongs to you and you only. And god forbid that he's not the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen in your life.

You make your way over to him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. Donghyuck isn’t that much taller than you, but in close proximity, he still cranes his neck down to meet your gaze directly. His arms wrap around your waist instinctively, and you can feel the warmth that radiates from his palms through the thin shirt you’re wearing.

“What’s with the sudden affection?” He asks, and you lean into his chest, eyes closed. “Nothing. I just like you. A lot.” The way his chest rumbles slightly tells you that he’s trying to hide a chuckle, but you know Donghyuck enjoys the sweet words, even if he teases you about it.

“Dance with me.” It’s an odd request, considering the both of you are tired out from practice, but you nod, and Donghyuck smiles.

“Wait, but the music. Shouldn’t we change it?”

“No, it’s fine. We can just dance to this.”

Donghyuck pulls you away from the stove and nearer to the couch, where there’s open space. It’s less dancing, and more of a poorly-imitated ballroom waltz. The both of you had only taken one waltz lesson during the team's annual retreat, when Taeyong had thought it a good idea to ‘diversify genres’. However, after Jaehyun had narrowly avoided crashing into a glass display and Chenle caused the team to receive a noise complaint, you suppose Taeyong had scrapped any further ideas of forcing everyone to take mandatory lessons.

It was memorable to you for an entirely different reason, however. It was the first time you began to see Donghyuck in a different light, being forced to partner with him for all three days. The both of you had quickly resolved to outdo everyone else, kickstarting a temporary truce which spiralled to well…this.

Donghyuck’s arms gently circle around your waist as the both of you take light footsteps from one end of the living room to the other. You’ve always found it easy to sync with him, and you’re guessing it just boils down to natural chemistry. That, and the fact that you’re so familiar with the way Donghyuck moves from watching him dance day in and day out.

There was a fascination with university that everyone else had, that you often failed to grasp. It had just seemed like a natural progression, rather than a hard-earned escape to a utopian place where you were an adult free to do what you wanted. The past three years had been some of the best in your life, mainly owing to the fact that you had a major you enjoyed and a dance team that simultaneously functioned as your closest group of friends.

You realise that Donghyuck has been present for its entirety. He had been there when you were accepted to the dance team, and then made centre alongside him a year later. He had been there when you did your first showcase and solo act, running down from the stage breathless afterwards. When you got your first injury, he was the one who told Taeyong for you, and convinced him that you could still fill the role with enough rest. Donghyuck was the one who found you crying in the studio when you got a failing grade on one of your exams, and who sat with you silently until your eyes were no longer red.

There’s only one year until you graduate, but Donghyuck’s presence in your life is as constant as the air you need to breathe.

It was easy to say farewell to your friends from high school, with an easy promise to maintain contact. But it’s so very different with Donghyuck, who fills up every crevice of your life effortlessly with his little habits.

You had wondered if you had fallen too fast for Donghyuck. After all, the change from rivals to friends to romantic feelings had been alarming, because you could rarely think straight when it came to him. Yet, looking at him now, you’re convinced that you want to spend as much time with Donghyuck as possible, before the worries of adulthood start creeping in.

Call it young ambition, but something about Donghyuck just makes you want to take chances. To let loose and live a little easier. Maybe it’s because he’s able to make you happy with the simplest things, and he’s so easy to love. Which is why you suppose you can finally make a decision, even though your heart has probably been silently waiting to say yes.

“If I move in, I want counter space. And also half of the closet space. And you have to promise to not scatter your clothes around our room,” you say, so abruptly that Donghyuck stops moving entirely, and you have to pause to prevent yourself from tripping over his feet. He bends down, until he’s eye level with you. His eyes are hopeful, questioning, as if he’s not entirely believing of what you’re implying.

“You’re not kidding, right?” It’s so easy for a smile to make its way onto your face, as you shake your head and Donghyuck’s grip on your waist gets a little bit tighter.

“You’ll get all the counter space you want. I’ll even let you bring your stupid potted plants.” Your nose scrunches at his remark, and Donghyuck has to stop himself from cooing at your expression.

“For the record, I think my potted plants are adorable. And once I bring them here, they’ll be yours too. So don’t speak of our potted plants that way.”

Ours. Donghyuck thinks he likes the sound of that.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

A week later, you’re standing outside the dance studio with Donghyuck, when you grab his hand. He looks down sharply at you, mouthing a ‘what?’, and then angling his chin urgently back in the direction of the studio. However, you just flash a grin at him. “Open the door, Donghyuck. We’re already late.” He narrows his eyes, but the playful grin tugging on his mouth shows that he already understands what you’re aiming at.

When the both of you walk in, there’s a mixed range of reactions. There’s Jisung and Shotaro, whose mouths are wide open. Doyoung and Mark’s eyebrows are raised, but they don’t show any other expression. Ningning, Renjun and Chenle are in a corner, knowing smiles on their faces. Taeyong and Karina just look like they’ve always known, and are honestly more miffed at the lack of punctuality from the both of you.

“I think Karina’s going to kill us for breaking her no relationships rule,” Donghyuck mutters worriedly in your ear.

“If you forget, I’m her favourite child. I think she’s more likely to murder you for getting with me,” you respond sweetly, and Donghyuck simply stares, speechless, as you let go and walk over to where Giselle and Winter are warming up. He scoffs, shaking his head, and walks over to Jaemin and Jeno, who are already ready to tease him for being a lovesick fool.

The four walls of the dance studio make up so much of Donghyuck’s life, but so do you.

451 notes · View notes

snailpebbles · 20 days ago

Text

longtime love - OP81

summary: oscar is oblivious, cannot word sentences, and is hit hard.

tags: accidental confession, angst then fluff ig, idiots.

⋅˚₊‧𐙚‧₊🍊˚ 🧡୨♡୧ ⋅🔸˚₊‧꒰ა🟠໒꒱ 🍊‧₊˚

"C'mon, it's just one little favor!" Oscar sighs in exasperation, tossing his hands up before resting them on his hips. You turn away from him, hand up to your lips as if chewing your nails when in actuality, you're trying to not cry. By any means you aren't a crybaby, but in this case you think the reaction is valid. Oscar continues to plead - an out of character move by him - as your defenses start to wear down, leaving you with a choice. Relent and suffer, or say no and suffer.

"It's just one date alright? One night with me is all I ask." He sighs, gently grabbing your bicep. The apartment should feel warm and cozy as it typically does, but now all you feel is cold; the comfort stripped away as the realization of just how wrong this could all go hits you. Yes, it is just one fake double date to appease some friends, and yes, you are also madly in love with him. What could go wrong?

Oscar moves into the kitchen as you stay in the living room, the open space still allowing his pleading and your silent panic. You can keep it together for one night. Definitely. Sure he'd be dressed all nice, calling you his girlfriend, maybe even kiss-

Yeah no, you have to do this.

Just as you make up your mind to help him out, completely unselfishly of course, Oscar opens his mouth once more in the midst of his rambles. He's still in the kitchen and you're still in the living room, that distance seeming to grow wider as he doesn't notice the way your face falls.

"We wouldn't actually be dating- I mean could you imagine?" Oscar laughs, shaking his head. He laughs at the idea of being together, being with you. Finally he must gain awareness since his face drops upon looking at you, noticing how hurt you appear. It's like your heart has split in two and the air has been punched out of your lungs. "Hey- hey wait no I didn't mean it like that-" He starts, realizing his mistake as he rounds the kitchen bar to reach you.

You're already gone though, pulling on your shoes as the urge to leave and wallow in your bed hits you. Oscar doesn't understand why exactly you're reacting this way until it all hits him at once. The lingering looks he just assumed were you zoning out, the affection he now realizes no one else gets, and why no one you've dated has ever seemed to like him. You're heading towards the door as his world spins on its axis, but those reflexes still allow him to catch you by the arms and make you at least look at him.

"Oscar let me go." You whisper, head bowed as you can't stand to look at him. You know that he knows; it's obvious in the way he's shaking and how he isn't smiling like you would at such a revelation. "I know, so please.. let me go." Oscar shakes his head at your words, an unreasonable guilt swelling in his chance the moment he comes to terms with the fact that.. he doesn't feel the same. He loves you, adores you even, but is it romantic? Has it ever been romantic?

He's left to grapple with many new emotions as you leave, the door clicking shut as his apartment goes silent. You love him. This whole time you've loved him. Him? The idea seems impossible, someone as amazing as you loving him. Oscar sits down on his couch, head in his hands and groans in frustration at his own feelings. He doesn't love you like that, surely he doesn't. But he could try, couldn't he? It all feels stupid so he pours himself a drink and decides to sleep on this.. but does end up staring at pictures of you two together. Which could mean nothing.

⋅˚₊‧𐙚‧₊🍊˚ 🧡୨♡୧ ⋅🔸˚₊‧꒰ა🟠໒꒱ 🍊‧₊˚

It's been two weeks, bordering on three, since you've talked. Life feels stale and quiet, no one is there to listen to you complain about professor so and so, and you don't hear anything about Lando making some silly joke. All in all, it sucks and getting over your best friend is not for the weak. He probably isn't even struggling as hard as you!

Oscar's life feels as though it's ending.

Two weeks. Two weeks!

How can he go on? He isn't hearing anything about some dumb professor and has no one to tell Lando's stupid jokes to. Hattie is urging him to talk to you but I'd course he chickens out, it's you. The woman he maybe, possibly, is wildly in love with. He doesn't know! If he could just see you and stop sitting around his apartment moping like he is now, maybe that could be remedied. His nonsensical praying seems to have worked since his phone dings, the notification the one he has just for you. You want him to come over to talk.

He's never gotten up so fast in his life.

⋅˚₊‧𐙚‧₊🍊˚ 🧡୨♡୧ ⋅🔸˚₊‧꒰ა🟠໒꒱ 🍊‧₊˚

Why? Why did you send that text? After stumbling into your bathroom and realizing you look like shit personified, you decide to rip the bandaid off and get the horrendous rejection over. All you want is your best friend back, even at the expense of your feelings.

Maybe two hours pass and then your doorbell is ringing, a look through the peephole showing a very nervous looking Oscar. Okay, alright, you can do this. You smooth down your shirt pointlessly, dust off invisible dirt, and open the door.

Oscar stares. He stares until you clear your throat and do that cute little shuffle on your feet to relieve some nerves- wait cute?

"Hey." That was awkward. Too awkward. It seems to be fine though since you let him in and both of you sit on your - much comfier - couch. "So uhm.." He presses his lips together while you stare at your hands, practically miles apart from one another when usually you'd be cuddled up watching a movie by this point.

"I'm sorry about uhm.. well everything. I overreacted." You say quietly, picking at the hem of your shirt. Oscar stalls for a moment, not at all expecting you to apologize.

"What? No you didn't-" He struggles to get the words out, turning to face you properly and grab your hands to stop your picking. "You didn't do anything wrong or whatever you're thinking." It's hard to believe what he's saying, but his hands warming yours is a nice distraction. You lift your head to finally look at him, a bit surprised by his concerned expression. He shifts nervously and his eyes can't seem to meet yours, the tension in the air rising tenfold.

"So.. you know?" The question has to be asked and you need to know if you can salvage this, no matter how insistent he is that it's fine. Oscar nods, muttering a quiet 'I know' as heat creeps up his cheeks. A sigh escapes you but Oscar knows you just as well, squeezing your hands before your thoughts run wild.

"Can we figure this out? Please?" He asks softly, eyebrows furrowed upwards and shoulders tense. His grip on your hands is tight yet it steadies you, the tension easing ever so slightly the moment you nod 'yes'.

"You don't feel the same." It's more of a statement, an acceptance, rather than a question. Oscar doesn't respond - better than the immediate yes you expected - and instead moves closer, his knees now pressed to yours.

"I don't know." He starts, his heart fluttering anxiously about his chest. The response confuses you yet you don't pull away, that tiny bit of hope nudging its way into your brain against your better judgement. His eyes lift to yours before he begins to speak again, forgetting just for a second what he was going to say as he looks at you.

"I've never seen you in this way, y'know? But now.." His face goes from pink to red, lifting a hand to scratch the back of his neck in that endearing way you love.

"Now?" You edge him on, lacing your fingers through his in a bold move. Thankfully he accepts and a small smile tugs at his lips, making your heart speed up slightly.

"Well you- you're making me feel all nervous, and I don't know how to uh.. how to handle it?" He shrugs helplessly, looking conflicted. The feelings have been coming to the surface in the past two weeks, ones he'd unknowingly been pushing down for some stupid reason he couldn't fathom. In his vision you appear radiant, a warmth he craves and wants to love but doesn't know how. The idea that you've always felt this strongly for him only fuels his guilt.

"Welcome to my life." You mutter without really thinking, but he laughs so it's okay. He looks relieved as the tension shifts entirely, more giddy like a stupid highschool romance than anything else. "So.. now what?" Oscar shrugs in response, hesitant to ask what he might ruin things again. Then he looks at you and your beautiful smile, the way you seem to light up just with him, and knows he won't be able to handle it if he doesn't ask.

"Can we try this? Us?" It comes out as a whisper, the words you've dreamt of hearing these past few years, but they still feel unreal. He takes your shock as the beginning of a rejection, his face falling momentarily before he fixes it into his usual relatively calm expression. You snap out of it though when he tries to pull his hands away, catching and holding tight.

"We can." You whisper, trying to fight off the grin you feel coming. His arms come around you tight, hair tickling your neck where he hides his face. Oscar hasn't felt joy like this for quite some time and neither did he expect to be this excited; maybe he really, really likes you.

"I'm sorry for what I said that day, it really came out wrong and you should know the idea of being with you.. it's an amazing one." He says quietly, not even able to imagine how badly it must have hurt to hear him say such a thing. Even as you try to brush it off he continues apologizing, freeing up one hand to cup your cheek. He's tempted to laugh at how warm your skin feels knowing he's the cause, but he doesn't. The moment feels too serious and you look too fragile to do such a thing.

"So you like me and it's not some.. some laughable idea?" You raise an eyebrow, unconsciously leaning into his hand. Oscar nods eagerly, thumb rubbing your cheek with an affection you didn't honestly know he had. While it's hard to reconcile in your mind, the look in his eyes seems to be proof enough of his feelings. It's a look you've seen before when watching videos of you two, your own eyes easily a window into the love you hold.

"I'm an idiot for not seeing it, not seeing you sooner." He says softly, the space between you slowly becoming less and less. Soon his nose is bumping yours, lips melding into one another until he's holding your jaw and your hands have woven into his hair. His heart is racing, as is yours, and he doesn't know how he's managed to live without this for so long.

Surprisingly you pull away first, leaving your forehead to rest against his as both of you catch your breath. He kissed you. kissed. you. The world could end right now and you'd still be just as happy. His hair is soft as usual but his lips.. it's like they fit perfectly on your own.

"Okay, yeah. I like you." He mutters, making you snort in laughter. Oscar laughs with you, wanting to kiss you again but struggling to keep his smile down enough to do so. You feel almost lightheaded with happiness, yet doubt still nags at you.

"Are you sure..? I've never wanted anything more than this but no matter how bad I want you, I'm not going in if you aren't sure." You say firmly, leaning back just enough to properly see his face.

"I swear to you, I'm serious. I've never been more serious in my life okay?" Oscar murmurs, kissing your cheek to solidify his words. "I'll spend forever making up lost time with you."

"Forevers a long time.. sure you can deal with me?" You ask jokingly, trying to play off how his words make you feel all teary. Oscar picks up on this and pecks you on the lips, then repeatedly all over your face until you're giggling.

"There is no other way I'd like to spend forever than with you." He kisses you then, drawing you closer until you're borderline in his lap. It makes your heart burn almost, the excitement you feel, mixing in with love and relief. Oscar knows he'll never recover from you - not like he'd want to - even as he is still actively figuring out how he feels.

"You're mine now, hm?" He murmurs against your lips, coaxing your mouth open wider as he kisses you. All you can do is nod slightly, too lost in him to think of even daring to pull away.

Eventually you do break apart, cuddling up like you always would and putting on a movie you've both seen a hundred times. Comfortable. Familiar. Just as loving as before, but now it's expressed.

⋅˚₊‧𐙚‧₊🍊˚ 🧡୨♡୧ ⋅🔸˚₊‧꒰ა🟠໒꒱ 🍊‧₊˚

#oscar piastri fanfiction #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #formula 1 fanfiction

172 notes · View notes

sukirichi · 4 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 (𝐔𝐍)𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐉𝐎

+ contains fluff, banters, choji kinda chokes sakura, and cursing. fluff !! fem reader. shy! togame (divider from @/enchanthings)

+ wc. 1.5k

Togame sat in the bustling café with Sakura and Choji on his sides. They’d gathered around the small, circular table cluttered with coffee cups and dessert plates. Outside, the early evening lights of the city flickered to life, highlighting their faces as they all sat – hunched, heads nearly bumping into each other and speaking with hushed voices. They were talking about an issue of most importance, after all. Extremely confidential, according to Sakura, but more like extremely impossible, according to Togame.

“So, Togame,” Choji started, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “We’ve been talking, and we think YN likes you.”

Togame, who had been sipping his latte, nearly choked. He coughed, setting the cup down hastily. “What? No way,” he said, shaking his head with a nervous chuckle. “She doesn’t like me like that.”

Sure, you looked at him often, and even rewarded him with the prettiest smiles, but Togame wasn’t stupid. You were just nice like that – smiling and waving at everyone.

He wasn’t special… right?

Sakura rolled his eyes, exasperated. Choji had been the one insisting that you liked him back, but Sakura had been the greatest ‘witness.’ Said he would dye his hair completely black if Togame remained blind to the way you stumbled over your words whenever Togame was involved. “Come on, Togame. She’s always laughing at your jokes, even the terrible ones. And she goes out of her way to spend time with you. It’s pretty obvious. Plus, you’re not that fucking funny, y’know?”

“Right,” Choji nods his agreement. “You don’t laugh at someone’s shitty jokes unless you like them.”

Togame felt a blush creeping up his neck, thankful that the collar of his jacket hid it. “That doesn’t mean anything,” he protested. “She’s just nice to everyone. Besides, I’m sure she’s not interested in me that way.”

Unbeknownst to Togame, you had just entered the café with the plans to join them. Choji had sent you a quick text half an hour ago that he needed your help with something, but never specified with. Still, you came as fast as you could. It wasn’t every day that Choji requested for anything, and honestly, after introducing you to Togame – your crush – you kind of owed him a favor.

Until you heard bits and pieces of their conversation, your name thrown in, and you stopped short in your tracks. You quickly stepped back and hid behind a nearby plant. Your heart raced as you listened it, uncaring of the ache in your thighs at the uncomfortable squatting position. There was just no way you’d miss a word of what they said.

“Togame, you’re clueless,” Choji laughed. “She’s always finding excuses to be near you. Remember that time she showed up at the park, ‘coincidentally’ when you were there? And the countless study sessions she insists on having, even though she’s a total genius and doesn’t need help? Hell, she’s smarter than you. The hell does she need you to tutor her on?”

Togame scratched the back of his head, feeling increasingly embarrassed. He did remember that. There were times you came up to him, a pout on your pretty face as you told him your struggles on math problems. Not that Jo could count for shit, but he didn’t want to turn you down. Or worse, to appear stupid in front of you. “I thought she just wanted to hang out. We’re friends, that’s all.”

Sakura sighed, a hint of frustration in his voice. “You’re so dense, Togame. It’s obvious to everyone but you. She’s into you, trust me.”

Still hidden behind the plant, you felt your heart swell. You bite your lip to suppress your smile, a whirlwind of happiness and nervous swirling in your belly. You’d liked Togame for a long time, but you’d always been too shy to say anything. He was the Togame Jo, second of Shishitoren. Talks of his strength and greatness were shared across the streets. Compared to him, you weren’t particularly special. You had always assumed he only treated you kindly because you were Choji’s friend, and whoever Choji liked, Togame did, too.

It just never would’ve occurred in your wildest dreams that he liked you like that. So hearing his friends insist that Togame was so oblivious to your feelings were both amusing and endearing.

Togame shook his head, trying to stay composed. “Even if that were true, which I doubt, why would she like me? I’m just... me.”

“Exactly,” Choji said, as if that explained everything. “You’re funny, kind, and you’ve got that whole devil-may-care attitude going on. Girls dig that. I know she does.”

Sakura hums in agreement. “Plus, you’re always there for her. You care about her, and she knows it. Maybe she’s waiting for you to make the first move.”

Togame felt his face grow hot, his mind racing with the implications of what they were saying. Could it be true? Did you actually like him? He shook his head again, more to clear his thoughts than to disagree. As much as he fancied (he dreamt of it happening everyday) the idea of having his feelings reciprocated, he didn’t want to get his hopes up. Besides, you had a great friendship with one another. He couldn’t – didn’t want – to ruin that.

“I just... I don’t see it. I mean, she’s amazing, but I’m not sure she feels the same way.”

Hearing the hesitance and self-doubt in his voice made your heart ache.

You couldn’t stay hidden any longer. With your heart pounding in your chest, you stepped out from behind the plant, your eyes fixed on Togame’s fresh undercut. Sakura and Choji were the ones to find you, the former’s eyes widening, while Choji’s face lit up in a mischievous smirk.

“Oh shit–” Sakura exclaimed, nudging Togame in what was a failed attempt of being discreet.

Togame turned to see you standing there, looking both nervous and determined. He felt his stomach drop, a mixture of panic and anticipation swirling within him. You didn’t hear what they were talking about, did you? At least he hoped you didn’t, because he could barely muster a genuine smile right now.

“Oh... hey,” he stammered, his voice betraying his surprise. Underneath the table, Togame kicked Choji in the shin when the shorter man giggled.

You took a deep breath, your gaze. “I heard what you were talking about,” you begin, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. “And I just wanted to say... your friends are right, Togame.”

Togame blinked, his mind struggling to catch up. “What?”

You smiled softly, stepping closer. “I like you, Togame. I’ve liked you for a while now, but I didn’t know if you felt the same way. I was too scared to tell you.”

The café seemed to fall silent around the two of you, the moment stretching into eternity. Togame’s face flushed a deep red, his heart racing as your words sank in. Sakura and Choji watched with bated breath, their eyes wide with anticipation. They’d made a bet before arriving at the café on who would confess first – a bet Sakura was losing miserably. With a low groan, he fisted his five hundred yen and shoved it to Choji’s waiting hands.

“You... you like me? Is that right?” Togame repeated, hardly daring to believe it.

You nodded, you smile widening. “Yes, I do. A lot.”

Togame’s mind raced, replaying every interaction you’d ever had, seeing them in a new light. The times you laughed at his jokes, the study sessions, the ‘coincidental’ meetings – all of it made sense now. He felt a rush of emotions – relief, joy, disbelief – overwhelm him.

“I’ll be damned,” he finally managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. “I really thought these two–” he gestured to his friends, “–were messing with me.”

Your smile brightened. “Well, now you know,” you said softly.

Before they could say more, Choji erupted into cheers, breaking the spell. He nearly knocked over Sakura when he slung an arm around his neck, dragging him down to mockingly point a finger in Togame’s direction. “We told you!” he exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. “Finally, you both admit it! I thought my hair would turn grey before either of you said a thing!”

Sakura sighed, and fought against Choji’s choking hold. “Yes, yes, we get it. They’re perfect for each other. Now stop lying and admit you’re just happy because you won the bet.”

“Of course I would,” Choji scoffed, “I’ve known Togame a long time. You really think that cool bravado of his means he actually has the balls to confess? Nah, it’s all for show. I knew YN had more guts than him.”

You and Togame were both flustered, but you couldn’t stop smiling. The café buzzed with excitement as the four of you celebrated the not-so unexpected confessions. And Togame? A sense of warmth settled over him, knowing that the person he’d secretly admired for so long felt the same way about him.

As Choji and Sakura bantered back and forth, Togame dared to reach out and slip his hands into yours under the table. The first contact made you jolt, heat creeping up your neck. It takes a few moments, and Togame’s equally shy smile, before you squeezed his hand in return. And for the first time in a long while, Togame felt like everything was exactly as it should be.

#wind breaker scenarios #wind breaker imagines #togame jo x reader #togame x reader #togame jo x you #wind breaker fluff #togame x reader fluff #togame jo x reader fluff #togame x reader imagines #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker x reader imagines #wind breaker x reader scenarios #togame jo x you imagines #togame jo scenarios #togame jo imagines

297 notes · View notes

ninguitar · 17 days ago

Text

୨୧　𝓘MPERFECT FOR YOU　˒˒　JY

─── ﹙🎧﹚who knew a school project could lead to a start of something new?

pairing. jeong yoonchae x f!r genre. fluff wc. 1k notes. love w2e and yoonchae ohjygof req here ( MASTERLIST )

now playing ⋆ bad by wave to earth

HIGHSCHOOL WAS A CONFUSING TIME, especially with navigating through all of its complexities, and amidst those complexities, was you.

for the past year, yoonchae had been secretly harboring "unrequited" feelings for you, unable to fully profess them. to her, it seemed like a major challenge to express all her emotions, and so, instead she made teasing, snide remarks towards you, which to her disdain, you reciprocated.

and now, graduation was approaching rather rapidly yet, you two were still never meeting eye-to-eye. from paper airplanes thrown at you from afar during a lecture, to snarky comments made by the two of you, tension bled between the two of you.

were you two academic rivals, or just rivals? that was a lasting question in your head.

yet, beneath the facade of jeong yoonchae and her quips towards you, it was obvious to everybody else, that there was a fond connection waiting to be sparked between the two of you.

and it was more so of a question of when, where, and if.

having grown tired of yoonchae's relentless teasing towards you, alongside how hopelessly enamored she was of you, her friends began to urge her to take a different approach. and today was her lucky day; you two had been assigned a group project together, that would give the korean girl a chance with you.

"operation: initiate a conversation with y/n!" one of yoonchae's friends chirps out, making the korean girl's cheeks and ears flare. she meekly sighs, huffing out, "what- what if it goes wrong!" to which most of her friends snort, dismissing the worry lines creasing the korean girl's forehead.

"i'm serious, c'mon!"

with a book cradling in your lap, you lean against the backing of the library chair. you run a hand through your hair, as you check the time, huffing at yoonchae's blunt lateness.

you two had begrudgingly scheduled to meet up at the library for an hour or two, mainly to get ahead of the project—just so the two of you could get it over with. you knew you weren't on good terms with one-another, but nonetheless, you were irritated at how late she could be, especially on a project worth more than half your grade.

the korean girl swipes her id card into the entrance of the school library, her eyes scanning for you. she bites the inside of her cheek, afraid she was too late for the meet-up. as her eyes lock onto yours, yoonchae notices the hint of frustration etched across your face, as you already began to jot down notes in a frenzy.

despite yoonchae approaching you with a nervous expression playing on her face, she couldn't help but play it off as casual, acting like the usual snarky person she was towards you.

"working hard, aren't you?" yoonchae drawls, her voice smooth and teasing, as she saunters over to you. her hips lean against the table you occupied, as a sudden warmth spreads around her cheeks.

her eyes dart elsewhere, as she murmurs curses under her breaths upon realizing her friends were tucked away in a corner, watching you and yoonchae. her confident demeanor slowly slips, as she tries to depict out what her friends were trying to communicate through their dramatic, animated arm movements.

"'course i am, especially when you're late," you quip back, your brows slightly furrowing, as you watch yoonchae pull up a chair to the table, your expression a mix of weariness and irritation.

the korean girl meekly pulls the chair closer to you, her elbows perpendicular to the wooden table. she fixes her collar, her eyes observing your movements, before she clears her throat, her eyes softening at the sight of the exasperation painting your face.

"look—i just wanna finish this project, and before we can have it go smoothly, i wanted to apologize to you," yoonchae pauses, a gentle smile tugging at her lips, "i just wanted to say, i'm sorry for being rude to you; i know 's really annoying or whatever."

your mouth holds slightly agape, as you nod, almost in disbelief at the girl genuinely apologizing. a hint of skepticism is present in your gaze, as your eyes scan the people in the library, barely missing yoonchae's group of friends pretending to busy themselves with a stack of random books.

"really?"

"yes, really," a slight giggle escapes the korean girl's throat at your disbelief, her tone tinging with sincerity, "i think we could be a good team with the arguments put aside, and i need a good grade anyway."

yoonchae's comment makes you scoff, as a smile tugs at the corners of your lips, your stubbornness crumbling. you look over the syllabus to review the instructions and criteria of the project, while yoonchae's hand creeps closer to yours, as you barely notice it.

and god, the korean girl couldn't help but swoon at the way your eyes are intently boring into the laptop screen, your brows slightly furrowing. as time passes by, the two of your guys' hands inch closer to one-another's, as in an hour, yoonchae's hands are hovering over yours, her nails tracing over your knuckles.

in between the time you two spent together working on the project, your guys' defensive layers begin to shed rather rapidly, the arguments sparked previously now replaced by laughter and sarcastic, light-hearted comments. maybe the project wasn't as bad as you thought it would be.

her hand rests on your hand, as they tenderly rub your knuckles unconsciously, neither of you pointing it out at all. flushed cheeks play on the two of your guys' face at the warmth between the two of you, as you try to dismiss it, avoiding eye-contact with yoonchae.

in celebration of getting full marks on the project, the korean girl suggested a day out—just the two of you—which was really, an excuse for her to take you out on a "date" to her.

the clouds glide across the sky, as her head rests against your shoulder, making you hum quietly. beneath you was a bamboo mat accompanied by a basket of snacks on top of it, to keep the two of you from starving.

you sigh heavenly, "you're better than how i thought you were," your giggles float through the air, the sun illuminating yoonchae's features. a rosy blush tints your skin at the beauty of the korean girl, your eyes tracing over her lips unconsciously.

yoonchae nudges you playfully, a huff escaping her lips, "shut up!" she rolls her eyes, as her hand instinctively hovers over yours, "i have somethin' to tell you anyway."

"yeah?" she earns a hum of acknowledgment from you, as you tilt your head, your thumb rubbing against her knuckles gently.

"yeah," the korean girl nods, as she hesitates for a moment; the weight of the words waiting to be escaping the tip of her tongue.

"i have liked you," she pauses, "for a while now."

your eyes widen in disbelief once again, as your eyebrows furrow, a mixture of shock and confusion dancing on your features.

yoonchae clears her throat, her heart heavy, "i know i was an ass to you, so 'm not gonna blame you if you aren't into me or anything."

"—but i do like you, a lot."

at her confession, you remain silent, your gaze locking onto the korean girl's, as you nod, trying to process all the information coming at you. a smile creeps across your face, as a giggle escapes your breath at her agitation.

"me too—i like you too, a lot," you murmur, as you inch yourself closer to yoonchae, your lips making ways against hers hastily. her hands rest on your hips, as she presses kisses against your lips feverishly.

a grin plays on her face at your faint blush. "couldn't get you out of my head, y'know that," she whispers against your lips, her words taking your breath away.

there's a brown hue in your eyes

how pretty it is

i think i'm in love

taglist. ୨ৎ @lararajjj @kisshae @sed7ction

@jellaaa @yeetaberry127 @angelixstorm

#fics 　.#kpop imagines #kpop x reader #katseye x reader #katseye imagines #katseye yoonchae #katseye jeong yoonchae #katseye yoonchae x reader #katseye jeong yoonchae x reader #jeong yoonchae x reader #yoonchae x reader

136 notes · View notes

chiyuuchu · 4 months ago

Note

i loved so close yet so far a lot 🥰🥰 it was so cute, would you consider writing a part 2?

II. so close yet so far <3 (9th August 2024)

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Prompt! Everyone can see it but them.

first part here!

You and Katsuki had always been close—closer than most. From the outside, your bond was something everyone admired, even envied. But as time went on, something began to shift between you two.

You started noticing the small things more—how his hand lingered a little longer on yours, how his gaze softened when he thought you weren’t looking, and how your heart raced whenever he was near. But no matter how much you tried to push these feelings down, they only seemed to grow stronger.

Katsuki noticed it too. He’d never been one to shy away from his emotions, but when it came to you, it was different. You were his best friend, the one constant in his life, and the idea of messing that up terrified him. So, he kept his feelings buried, pretending that everything was normal even when it was anything but.

It wasn’t long before your friends started to notice. Kirishima, Mina, Sero, and Kaminari would give you knowing looks whenever Katsuki did something sweet for you—something that was becoming more and more frequent. You’d hear them whispering when they thought you weren’t listening, talking about how “the whole world can see it” except for the two of you.

“Seriously, Y/N,” Mina said one day during lunch, leaning across the table with a smirk.

“You and Katsuki are like, the most obvious couple ever. Just admit it already.”

You laughed it off, trying to hide how her words made your heart race. “We’re just friends, Mina.”

Mina rolled her eyes. “Sure, and I’m a pro hero already. Come on, Y/N, it’s so obvious you’re both into each other. What’s stopping you?”

You hesitated, glancing over at Katsuki, who was sitting a few tables away with Kirishima. “What if I’m wrong? What if he doesn’t feel the same way and I ruin everything?”

Mina’s expression softened. “I get it, but you have to ask yourself if staying in this weird limbo is really better than taking a chance.

The way you two are going, it’s only a matter of time before one of you slips up.”

Across the cafeteria, Katsuki was having a similar conversation with Kirishima.

“Come on, man, it’s obvious how you feel about her,” Kirishima said, nudging Katsuki’s shoulder. “Why not just tell her?”

Katsuki scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. “And what if she doesn’t feel the same way? What then, huh? You expect me to just act like everything’s fine after that?”

Kirishima sighed, shaking his head.

“You’re both so stubborn. But, Katsuki, you can’t keep pretending forever. Eventually, it’s gonna hurt more to keep it in than to just say it.”

For the next few days, you and Katsuki danced around each other, both too afraid to make the first move. Your friends watched in exasperation as you continued to deny what was so obvious to everyone else.

It all came to a head one evening when you found yourself alone with Katsuki in his room, studying for an upcoming exam. The tension in the air was palpable, and every time your hands brushed or your eyes met, it felt like the world was holding its breath.

“Katsuki…” you started, breaking the silence. “Do you ever feel like… there’s something we’re not saying?”

Katsuki froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew exactly what you were implying.

“I..umm..” He started. And before he could open his mouth once more Kaminari and Sero barges in the room. “Guys! You have to see this! We just found out that— oh.. are we interrupting something.” Kaminari trails off.

The days continued in their hesitant rhythm. Katsuki and you maintained your usual routine—training together, hanging out, sharing late-night talks—but with a layer of unspoken tension simmering beneath the surface.

One evening, after a particularly intense training session, you both found yourselves alone in the common room. Katsuki sat on the couch, his usual scowl softened as he watched you. You were curled up in a chair, trying to read a book but clearly distracted.

Katsuki’s mind raced as he watched you, the same thoughts swirling around: how close you were, how comfortable and yet distant you both felt. He knew his friends were right. They could see it, but he was too afraid to act on it. His internal battle raged until he couldn’t take it any longer.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” he finally asked, breaking the silence.

You looked up, startled by the question. “Like what?”

“Like you’re trying to figure something out,” he said gruffly, though his tone lacked its usual harshness.

You hesitated, then sighed. “Maybe because I am trying to figure something out.”

Katsuki’s heart skipped a beat, but he quickly masked his surprise with a snort. “Hmph. What’s there to figure out? It’s not like anything’s changed.”

“That’s the problem,” you said quietly. “Things have changed. I feel like… like something’s different, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

Katsuki’s chest tightened. He knew what was different but couldn’t bring himself to say it. Instead, he tried to play it off. “Maybe you’re just imagining things. You’re always overthinking.”

“Maybe,” you said, looking away. “Or maybe it’s just hard to ignore what’s right in front of me.”

Katsuki’s heart pounded in his chest. He wanted to tell you so badly, but the fear of ruining everything kept him silent. He stood abruptly, trying to hide his emotions. “Whatever. I’m heading to bed.”

You watched him leave, feeling a pang of sadness. It was clear that the feelings were there, but neither of you were willing to take that leap. As you lay in bed that night, the familiar sense of longing mixed with frustration settled over you.

The next day, during training, your friends noticed the lingering tension and decided to take matters into their own hands. Kirishima and Mina cornered Katsuki after practice, their faces serious but determined.

“Listen, Bakugou,” Kirishima said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve got to do something. You can’t keep dancing around this.”

Mina nodded. “Yeah. It’s obvious that you both care about each other. If you don’t act soon, you might lose your chance.”

Katsuki’s face reddened. “I know, damn it. But it’s not that simple.”

Mina crossed her arms. “It is that simple. You both clearly like each other. Just talk to her.”

Katsuki sighed, feeling the weight of their words. “Fine. I’ll talk to her.”

That evening, after another training session, Katsuki found you alone in the common room. He took a deep breath, trying to muster the courage he had been lacking.

“You still figuring things out?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

You looked up, a mixture of hope and nervousness in your eyes. “Maybe. Or maybe I just need to hear it from you.”

Katsuki’s heart raced. He swallowed hard, the words caught in his throat. “Look, Y/N… I don’t want to mess things up. We’ve been friends for so long, and I don’t want to ruin that.”

You stepped closer, your gaze softening. “Katsuki, if there’s something more between us, I’d rather know than live with the uncertainty.”

Katsuki met your eyes, the walls he had built up slowly crumbling. “I… I care about you, a lot. More than just a friend.”

Your heart soared, and a relieved smile spread across your face. “I care about you too, Katsuki. I was just too afraid to say it.”

For a moment, there was silence, but it was filled with a new understanding. Katsuki took your hand, his grip firm but gentle.

“Then let’s stop pretending,” he said quietly. “Let’s just be honest with each other.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. “Yes, let’s.”

In that moment, the fear and uncertainty melted away, replaced by a newfound clarity and connection. As you stood there, hand in hand, you both knew that the next step would be different, but it was a step you were both ready to take together.

#bnha x reader #bnha #bnha fluff #mha #bakugou fluff #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #todoroki fluff #katsuki bakugo x reader

163 notes · View notes

starsinmylatte · 11 months ago

Text

How to (not) Study for an Anatomy Exam

Pairing: Nanami Kento x afab!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+) Minors DNI

Length: 2.1k

You're in medical school with Shoko, but she's bailed on your group study session. Good thing an old friend turns up to help... Wait, what was the next chapter on, again?

Tags: Oral (m receiving), the awakening of a dom/sub dynamic, hair pulling, praise

Join my taglist here!

You pushed the eraser end of the pencil further into your brow, groaning as you forced yourself to read just one more page….. But, then again, this was also your fifth “last page” in a row. Shoko had abandoned your group study session hours ago to go out drinking, and your fatigue had finally set in.

“Ugh, maybe if I force myself to read it out loud,” you muttered, shifting restlessly.

“The amygdala is an integral part of the lim-” The door opened with a firm click, and you trailed off in surprise, dropping your head back against the couch pillow with an exasperated sigh.

“Satoru, I swear to god, if you interrupt me again, I will personally shove-”

A low chuckle interrupted your threat, “It’s just me. Please finish your sentence, though. That threat against Gojo did sound promising.”

You groaned, draping the heavy medical textbook over your face to hide the way your cheeks flushed at the sound. “Nanami, I thought you were working tonight.”

“I was,” he acknowledged. You could hear him walk across the room, and the couch cushion suddenly dipped with his additional weight. Nanami sighed and sat something down on the coffee table with an audible clink. You could hear the sound of a canned drink being opened, and the delicious, blessed scent of coffee filled the air.

Overly eager for the sweet, sweet hit of caffeine, you bolted upright fast enough to launch the textbook off your face. It fell and hit your thigh, drawing a slight whine from your lips as you snatched the coffee from Nanami’s outstretched hand. You raised it to your lips greedily, instantly downing most of it.

“I was working tonight, but I clocked out two hours ago,” he continued smoothly, “Do you know what time it is?”

You pressed the lip of the can to your chin, your expression mildly guilty as you purposefully avoided looking at your long-time friend. “I was only going to review one more chapter.”

Nanami simply picked his own can off the table and opened it. Your excuse had apparently fallen on deaf ears; he took a slow drink as you pouted, chuckling at the expression on your face. “Shoko texted me and asked me to come check on you. She hadn’t heard from you since she left.”

“We have an exam next week. I don’t know how she can be so carefree when there’s so much to learn,” you muttered. “I don’t need a babysitter just because I chose to study instead of going drinking.”

Slowly, Nanami reached out and placed his hand under your chin, tipping your head towards him. His expression was slightly cross, but you were preoccupied with much more important things. The dark suit your “long-time friend” wore fit him unfairly well, and seeing him dressed up only worsened the way you actually felt about him. You’d nursed a crush on him for years, and at this point, you were determined to take that secret to your grave.

The other glaringly obvious thing slipped out of your mouth before you could formulate a more intelligent sentence. “I… I can see your forehead now,” you stammered.

Nanami arched a single, golden eyebrow in mild amusement. “I got a haircut yesterday.”

You stared at him. The way his golden hair was swept back tugged at your already suffering heart; it was so mature, so achingly fitting for Nanami. It felt like a small eternity passed as your tired mind unraveled.

Were his shoulders always this broad? His eyes are such a beautiful color. Oh shit, his hand is under my chin still…. W-were they always this big? I wonder what they would feel like-

“One more chapter!” You squealed loudly, wishing you could trade your reverse curse technique in for the ability to phase through the floor. “One more chapter, and then I’ll take a break.”

“One more chapter, and then you’ll get some sleep,” Nanami corrected, removing his hand from your chin. You felt a small pang of disappointment at the loss of his touch, but you shrugged it off.

“Fine,” you conceded, mentally shoving the respectable, hard-working part of your brain back in charge.

Nanami settled back into his corner of the couch, taking another sip of his coffee. “Can I help you somehow? I have no idea how this type of studying works.”

He gestured vaguely at the stack of medical books, and you tried to stifle a giggle. “Here, you can quiz me using the pre-chapter questions.”

Nanami nodded, turning his focus to the textbook, and you flipped it open, happy to have him there to help you finish strong… until you were brutally reminded what the next chapter was. You blankly stared at the page titled “Male Reproductive Anatomy” until you closed the cover and stood without another word. Forget phasing through the floor; you wanted to teleport directly to the North Pole and never return.

“On second thought, I think I’ll just go to bed now,” You looked at the blank wall for moral support, face crimson red.

“I mean, I could still help you study… If you wanted..” He offered nonchalantly.

You whipped your head back around to look at Nanami, whose cheeks were dusted with pink. For a brief moment, he was blushing like the teenage boy you had once offered to share headphones with, but as he stood, his deep brown gaze locked into yours, and you could only see the calm, capable man he had grown into. “But I don’t think we will need the textbook.”

You nodded slowly, and Nanami wordlessly scooped all of your textbooks and study materials into his arms. The two of you made the trip up the stairs to your room in record time. He shoved everything onto your desk haphazardly, opting to take you into his arms instead.

“How long?” He murmured, his deep coffee-colored gaze full of warmth, a warmth you suddenly realized that Nanami had always reserved for you. “How long have we tip-toed around this?”

You shivered despite the heat of his body as the man you’d loved for years cradled you like a precious flower. His large hands gently rubbed your back, coaxing a sigh from your lips.

“Too long,” you whispered as you pressed your lips to his. It was gentle, almost reverent at first, and Nanami sighed, deep and rumbling, as he pulled you even closer. Your lips parted briefly before meeting again, the embrace growing more passionate by the second.

Nanami kissed you like he was trying to commit your taste to his memory like he’d simply die without your lips against his. You were no less eager, reaching up to cup his jaw and pressing your other hand against the swell of his bicep.

Growing bolder, you maneuvered him back until the back of his knees hit your desk chair. Nanami took the hint, parting from the embrace to undo his suit jacket and sit. He gazed up at you, eyes half-lidded and hazy with lust, and grinned lazily. “C’mere then.”

He reached out to pull you onto his lap, but you sidestepped with a wink. Instead, you opted to sink onto your knees, silently delighted by the way his eyes widened in surprise. Ever so slowly, you nudged his legs apart and crawled between them to rest your cheek against his knee. You hummed playfully, tilting your head up to smile at him innocently, “I thought you wanted to help me study… I think I can do that better from here.”

Nanami dropped his head back against the chair, swearing under his breath. He looped a finger into his tie and quickly ripped it off. It fell to the side unceremoniously, and your grin grew at his usual composure beginning to crack.

You stroked the inside of his leg with your nails, using just enough pressure for Nanami to feel the touch through his suit pants. He shuddered, and a wicked thought popped into your mind. You grinned again, “Or, if you’ve changed your mind, I could always ask Gojo. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

It was an incredibly empty threat; you both knew that, but it still served its intended purpose. The atmosphere in the room changed instantly. Nanami sat up, his gaze dark and intense as he leaned down to caress your jaw. The touch would’ve been warm and affectionate at any other time, but this one was slow, controlled, and achingly possessive.

“Should’ve known you’d be a fucking tease.” He growled, and the words shot straight to your core. Nanami slowly hooked his thumb over your kiss-swollen bottom lip, forcing them to part. You drew in a shaky breath, and it was his turn to smile.

“Is this what you wanted?” His voice was silken, dangerously quiet. Sparks of molten pleasure flooded your body, and your brain went fuzzy as you nodded. Nanami slipped the rough pad of his thumb over your tongue, slowly stroking it, toying with you as he thought for a moment. You whimpered involuntarily at the initial press of his thick finger, fighting off the urge to lave your tongue over it. He'd almost seem disinterested if you didn’t know him so well, but you could see his eyes glitter with a potent mix of approval and lust.

Nanami paused the movement of his thumb but left it in place to weigh down your tongue. He tenderly shushed your whine of protest and continued to speak, “If you’re good and finish your studying tonight, I’ll reward you….”

More white-hot pleasure coiled in your stomach, and your pussy throbbed in response. “Mmmmmhmmm,” you managed around his thumb, looking up at him with your best doe eyes.

He chuckled again, pulling his thumb out and smearing the leftover wetness across your lips. You eyed the obvious strain of his erection greedily, reaching forward to trace its outline. Nanami groaned, his cock twitching even with the slight pressure. “Eager for this, pretty girl?”

“You have no idea,” you murmured, quickly undoing his belt and pulling his clothing aside just enough to free his thick cock. You bit your lip as you watched the swollen, leaking tip brush against the material of his dress shirt, leaving a tiny smear of precum on the fabric. Nanami hissed at the sensation, tangling one of his large hands in your hair, partially to hold your hair back and partially desperate for something to ground him. You moved even closer to his lap, leaning down to lap at his cockhead.

He moaned outright at the first touch of your tongue; you began to explore every agonizingly beautiful inch of him, teasing his shaft with your fingers and plush lips. Nanami’s hand dug into your hair as you swirled your tongue around his tip and swiped it over the top to lap up his pre-cum. His hand clenched reflexively at the blinding pleasure, pulling your hair harshly without even meaning to.

Nanami froze, about to apologize profusely, but you moaned wantonly, plush lips still wrapped around the tip of his cock. He cursed and barked out a low laugh as the vibrations shot straight through him, “Fuck, I didn’t mean to…. Did you like that?”

You nodded as vigorously as you could manage, taking his cock even further into your mouth and nestling his swollen tip snugly into the pouch of your cheek. Drool fell from your lips, trailing down your chin as your tongue laved over his shaft, but you were far too gone to care. You cupped his heavy balls through the fabric of his expensive underwear, massaging them, and Nanami almost came on the spot.

He twitched and groaned, breath heavy and uneven as you utterly destroyed the normally stoic man. Nanami ran his other hand back through his hair, his breathing heavy as he took a minute to appreciate the sight of you drunk on his cock.

His balls tightened almost painfully, and Nanami moaned again, low and needy. “Need to stop…. Gonna cu-”

You shot him an incredibly devious, lust-filled look before pulling away and opening your mouth, sticking out your tongue to catch every drop. Nanami hissed at the sight, stroking his shaft furiously. It only took a few more seconds for him to fall apart with a strangled cry, his cum painting your mouth pearly white. His hands slowly pumped up and down, milking the remnants of his orgasm onto your pretty, pink tongue.

“You’re perfect…. gorgeous…. a goddess… mine now.” Nanami panted.

Your pussy fluttered as you watched him fall apart, and you ground your thighs together, desperate to find some relief from the ache in your core as you made a small show of swallowing. Nanami only took a few seconds to scoop you up from the floor and deposit you on the bed.

“Do I get my reward now?” You teased, voice slightly hoarse.

Nanami looked at you, his brown eyes filled with such sincerity that your heart fluttered. “I’m going to spoil you until you’re sick of me.”

Tagging some friends: @saradika @thefact0rygirl @babygirl-leon-kennedy @hereforthesunrise @ashotofspotchka @ironandglass @amyroswell @cassandrablacker @lady-valtieri @justanothersadperson93 @belle-smith07 @orangecremepuff @outspokenbrat @enchantedsylveon @khaleesihavilliard @spam-love @silverliningsandstorms @Msniks @panteramarron @eldritchbeauty

#nanami kento #kento nanami #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

479 notes · View notes

jadeylovesmarvelxo · 1 year ago

Text

Fated

Your soulmark has formed on your arm. The little bat was a mystery to you until you moved to Hawkins and met Eddie Munson...

Too bad he has a girlfriend and wants nothing to do with this "soulmate shit"

Or so he says anyway.

Warnings: Angst, meanish Eddie, soulmates, rejection, jealous Eddie, Eddie gets his head out of his ass, fluff.

Don't copy, reuse or repost my work.

I've left Eddie's soul mark up to interpretation. It's up to you what you want it to be.

♥️

Finding your soulmate should have been one of the best things that ever happened to you.

When the bat mark had appeared on your first day in Hawkins you were sure something had went very bad with this whole soulmate thing. Even though your family insisted that fate was never wrong.

Who the hell had a bat as a soulmate mark? It didn't make sense to you until you met Eddie and saw his tattoo.

There was a sharp pain and a burning feeling and you were aware Eddie was watching you for a response but you were trying not to show you were in pain.

Chancing a glance at your arm you find the small bat glowing brightly.

Eddie's eyes widen and he winces as if he's in pain too. When he removes his jacket his mark is now burned onto his skin.

"No, no no no. I have a girlfriend, she's called Chrissy and I can't... We can't, this whole soulmate bond mark thing is a load of shit sweetheart" his big brown eyes are full of panic.

Evn though you've only just met Eddie you feel your heart crack at his full on rejection.

You finally meet your soulmate and he has a girlfriend. Just my fucking luck you sigh and you don't know what to say to him.

The excitement of finding your soulmate fades as a pretty blonde bounds over to Eddie and introduces herself.

There's a sharp flash of pain that's radiating from your mark and you try to ignore it but it sits there all day, a dull ache that never really fades.

♥️

Despite Eddie being with Chrissy you manage to settle in Hawkins and make a few friends.

Robin and Steve are great and you get on well with Nancy who you're working with at Hawkins post. It's your first job out of high school and you want it to be a success.

Despite trying to avoid Eddie he's very much in your friend group and very much does not want anything to do with you.

You find out from Steve that after Chrissy found the soulmate mark on Eddie she left him.

Just another reason for him to hate you. He didn't want to know the person who broke up his relationship.

It wasn't very obvious to you but it was to Steve and Dustin his friend/pretty much like his little brother that Eddie despite his annoyance at the situation was intrigued by you.

Dustin caught him staring at you a few times or listening intently when you were chatting and answering questions about yourself.

He would turn away as soon as you noticed which made both Dustin and Robin roll their eyes in exasperation.

It wasn't your fault that Eddie was your soulmate and you were his, though Dustin did sympathise with Eddie for losing Chrissy, he was beginning to like you and didn't like seeing you hurt when Eddie would avoid you.

All that Eddie's coldness decided for you was that you needed to move on. It was crushing having your soulmate reject you but you had to accept it and move on.

That's when you met Josh, he was a friend of Steve's. Charming, sweet, funny. He was great.

Nancy was sitting with Jonathan and she was asking your plans for the evening as you diligently ignore the ache you feel with Eddie around. Thank god Nance offered a distraction.

"Oh, well I met this guy and we're going on our second date" you beam as Josh comes in and you head over to him, you're keen to introduce him to everyone.

♥️

Something dark and intense burns in Eddie's gut as he meets Josh. He's all perfect hair, perfect smile and is making you laugh.

That stupid mark burns so intensely that he swears under his breath and gulps his beer. He didn't like this guy one bit. Couldn't you see that Josh was a fake preppy dickhead?

Nancy asks how you met Josh and the growing envy inside him kicks up a notch at how charming Josh was being to everyone.

"I was a little hesitant at first, Josh admits but I couldn't help wanting to get to know her" Josh smiles at you and Eddie scowls.

"Hesitant about what exactly dude?" Josh throws him a dark look and there's a smug smirk on his face that pisses Eddie off even more.

"This soul mark thing but after hearing you were so adamant about it being a lot of shit I feel like I should thank you man, otherwise I would never have met this sweet lady"

Eddie grits his teeth and bites back a retort. Sensing danger Robin changes the subject but Eddie's in no mood to listen to Josh spout of a load of crap.

He's snappish and yeah he's aware he's being an ass but there's just something about this goofy idiot that Eddie doesn't like.

Eventually he makes an excuse to leave. He needed to destress and the only thing that could help him was jamming out a few tunes on his guitar.

♥️

You don't know what the hell was up with Eddie today but you were pissed off and somehow you ended up at his trailer, ready to confront him for being such an ass.

He opens the trailer door and looks suprised to see you and you push past him, eager to pour out your feelings.

"Why were so mean to Josh?" he leans back against the table and you feel a delicious ache build up inside you at how good he looked.

"What to you want from me Eddie? You don't want me. You want Chrissy! So why should I not be allowed to find someone? You acted like an asshole and for what!" you were full on ranting now but you didn't care.

Eddie watches you rant torn between wanting you to shut up and kissing you. The urge to kiss you was growing stronger and he tried to resist it.

"Princess, he's a fucking douchebag okay? He's fake as shit. Anyone can see that" you frown at his use of the word princess and can't decide if you like it or not.

Judging by the butterflies in your belly you did... Fuck. Irratated at how he affected you and the lack of chemistry between you and Josh you let out your frustrations.

"In case you forgotten Eddie you rejected me because you were with Chrissy and it's my fault she left you so whatever game you're playing cut it out"

The two of you are like magnets as he moves closer to you and his expression is soft, his big brown eyes full of tenderness.

"I've been such a dick to you and I'm sorry sweetheart. It's not your fault about the mark and I shouldn't have acted like it was" he caresses your cheek gently and it feels like your nerves are on fire.

"Don't think you can soften me up with those pretty brown eyes and that charming grin Eddie Munson" you warn him and he shrugs sheepishly.

"Pretty and charming huh? I'll take it" he winks at you and you feel yourself growing incredibly flustered, okay now was the time to leave.

"Ive been trying to avoid this for weeks but I can't sweetheart. I'm so drawn to you and I understand that you're seeing Josh but if he fucks up even once then... He's an idiot and I'll be waiting"

You leave at that point and your mind is racing, so much for moving on from Eddie, now you're more into him than ever.

♥️

Chrissy didn't expect to find Eddie at the Hideout tonight, it wasn't his night to perform with Corroded Coffin but here he was knocking back a couple of beers.

"Soulmate thing not working out for you?" she asks sympathetic and Eddie fakes a smile and at her gentle smile is coaxed into explaining all that has happened.

"Oh Eddie, can you blame her for moving on? You've acted like you want nothing to do with her and now you're all jealous because she's found someone. I hate to be mean but get your head out of your ass"

Eddie almost chokes on his beer at Chrissy's words but he knows she's right. He's been such an idiot.

''I'm a total butthead huh? I know that now"

Chrissy nods and kisses his cheek.

"Eddie, you've obviously fallen for her even if you've tried not to and you're jealous of this Josh guy so why don't you be Eddie the Brave and go and get the girl" she blushes a bit and tucks her hair behind her ear.

"Maybe I could pluck up the courage to talk to Jason. He's changed so much these last six months and he's my... He's my soulmate you know, I just know it"

Eddie nods. He needed to get his head out of his ass and just talk to you again.

Chrissy was right, as much as he tried to fight this soulmate bond, it was pretty obvious that you were his dream girl and he was being an idiot for letting you slip through his fingers.

Well no fucking more.

♥️

Josh had no showed tonight and after you managed to give him a call to check if he was okay, he casually dropped into conversation that he had met someone else (a non soul mark someone else)

It's not like you were heartbroken or anything but it still stung a little bit that in all your attempts to get over Eddie he was still at the forefront of your mind.

Frustrated you decide to get ready for bed and watch one of your favourite comfort movies. Maybe with some comfort food to go with it.

Just as your ready for a lot of much needed fluff and comfort your doorbell rings and Eddie is standing in the snow storm looking a little bedraggled but determined.

"Eddie" he comes inside and for a second he looks nervous but then he begins to speak and the nerves vanish.

"Look, I fucked up sweetheart. I know I did but I just have to say that Josh isn't right for you and I know I don't deserve a chance when I've been such an asshole but fuck him, you're mine and I'm going to fight for you every single day and show you how serious I am about being with you"

Oh wow. That you didn't expect.

"Eddie the truth is Josh met someone else and we aren't together anymore" Eddie stills and his eyes flash with fury.

"See what I mean now princess? He's an asshole" you stifle a smile. He takes your hand and looks to you with a hopeful expression on his face.

"One chance, that's all I'm asking" he pleads and you nod.

"Don't make me regret this Munson" you warn him gently and he grins.

"You won't princess, I promise you" He moves closer to you and presses a kiss to your lips.

It should have been a chaste and sweet kiss but the minutes your lips touch it's impossible to pull away. Eddie deepens the kiss and a soft moan issues from his mouth.

"Shit" he looks dazed and you giggle and kiss him again.

"That's not fair. I wasn't finished kissing you princess" he whines and tugs you back to him for another kiss.

♥️

Authors note: Can just imagine Eddie turning into a can't keep his hands off you, smitten boyfriend like super fast.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x soulmate!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #angst to fluff #jealous eddie #mean eddie

470 notes · View notes

whenlilyfallsinlove · 7 months ago

Text

jolene part 3

you guys the love for this series (which wasn't even meant to be a series!) is insane!!! tysm to everyone who has read it! tags for people who wanted a part 3: @girllety @simping4-2manyppl @penny-exe @hisparentsgallerryy @superxovas

"it's done. it's over." your voice interrupted remus from his book, after hearing your voice he looked up to see you. you looked.. dishevelled? and quite out of breath. that was probably because you had sprinted to the library as fast as you could, as you knew remus would be there.

ever since the night of the party, you had felt closer to remus. like he understood how you felt, more than james could for sure.

"you what?" remus responded. he was hoping you meant that you and james were done, but he scanned your face, and there were no signs of sadness, so surely you couldn't have meant that?

"me and james?" you said, looking at him like he was an idiot.

"WHAT?!" remus shouted, a bit too loudly, resulting in madame pince sending a dirty look your way. you were.. done? is it bad that his day had suddenly got better?

"yeah." you sigh, and take the seat beside him. you itched your chair close to him, probably so you didn't get kicked out of the library for speaking too loud. the closeness of the two of you, however, made remus' breath hitch.

"merlin.. are you.. are you okay?" he asked you, more quietly.

"i mean.. i suppose. i'm sad because i loved him but i was the one to break up with him.."

"you broke up with him?" remus interrupted, eyes widened.

"why is that such a surprise to you?" you teased.

"it's not it's not, sorry, carry on." he said frantically, a bit flustered.

"i told him.. that it was obvious that his heart wasn't with me.. and i didn't want to be in a relationship with someone like that." you recount.

"what did he say?" remus asked, he knew that he would probably get whatever james' perspective was later that night.

"he denied it, the tosser. we all know it's true. i even told him i wouldn't be mad about it!" you shake your head.

"i would be mad about it." remus said.

"yeah i would've been, but i wasn't going to tell him that." you chuckle.

"fair enough." he smiles at your laughter.

"then i.. i think i did something stupid.. i told him it'd be okay if he liked lily." you mutter.

"y/n, why on earth did you do that?" remus looked at you, exasperated.

"because!" you put your hands up, defensively. "i just.. i don't know, i'd feel better about it if we both moved on."

both moved on. both moved on. both. what did you mean by that? were you ready to move on? no surely, you couldn't be. if james moved on, would you? no no. wait. lily was one of your close friends, by giving james permission to like her, then maybe.. james would let him date you? a million thoughts ran through his head at once.

"well.." remus finally speaks, clearing his throat. "you're too nice for your own good."

for some reason, you felt your cheeks heat up. what was wrong with you? you broke up with your boyfriend a mere fifteen minutes ago, and now you were blushing at his best friend's compliments.

"thanks remus." you smile cheekily at him.

"it's alright, are you staying?" he asks you, almost hopeful.

"sorry remus, i can't, got a detention for "harassing malfoy"." you pull a face.

"i'll see you around though, thanks for always listening." you place a hand on his arm.

"it's uh n-no problem." he smiles, nervously.

"see you later!" remus watches you turn and leave, a small smile on his face.

it had been a couple of months since you had broken up with james, and you were at peace with it. although awkward at first, the two of you hesitantly became friends again.

at this moment in time however, your awkward friendship with james was the least of your worries. your favourite author had released a new book, and you were dying to buy it at hogsmeade.

the issue was.. literally no one could go with you.

"sorry y/n, i can't, quidditch training."

"sorry y/n, i'm studying."

"sorry y/n, i promised dorcas i would help her revise for the potions exam!"

the excuses were all too convenient. that left you with only on option left. not that you were complaining though, you had grown quite fond of the increase in time you were spending with remus. so much so, lily had accused you of fancying him again! something you had denied, with flustered cheeks. it did make you think though.

"remus?" you approached him in the common room, he was with sirius. james and peter were in a detention.. or something.

"y/n" he smiled at your presence.

"would you uhh.. want to go to hogsmeade with me?" you asked.

"oooooo" sirius teased, nudging remus.

"no- no not like that, i need to buy a new book.. and i don't want to go alone i just thought-"

"yeah, i'll go." he smiles at you.

"great, meet me here at 1pm tomorrow." you scurry off, feeling your cheeks burning.

oh my godric. you had a sneaky suspicion you were beginning to have a crush on remus.

"ugh lily!!" you faceplanted your bed, your head in your pillow, that night.

"i think you were right."

"of course, what about?" she smiles, teasingly.

"remus." you said, your voice muffled.

"what was that?" she asked.

"don't make me repeat it." you groan.

"no you can say it again!" she smiles.

"remus. i think i like him." you sigh.

"you're acting like that's a bad thing! remus is great." lily sits on your bed, where you were having your crisis.

"it's not.. he's james' best friend!" you groan.

"oh y/n.. that doesn't matter. james won't mind, your friends, aren't you? and you've been nice to him and gave him permission to date me. no idea why because it's never gonna happen! but still, he''ll understand." she reassures you.

"i don't know.." you trail off.

"y/n.. i think it's obvious remus likes you." lily pats your back.

"WHAT?!" your head shoots up.

"it's quite obvious isn't it.. whenever you're around he always has a massive smile on his face." she smiles at you.

you smile at her.

"I swear to godric if you're wrong-"

"I'm not. now tomorrow you need to get ready for your little hogsmeade date and-"

"it's not a date.. and.. how did you know about that??" you look at her, bewildered.

"i know everything." she winks at you, and you have a sneaky suspicion that tomorrow she was definitely not studying like she had said.

"fineeee you're the best though lily" you smile.

"you flatter me" she smiles back at you and you chuckle.

you admitted to yourself the next day you were nervous. you didn't even know why.. you were only buying a book. but still you had gone out the way to put extra effort into you hair, something that didn't go unnoticed by your dorm-mates.

"you look nice y/n, dressing to impress?" marlene teases you, as you made your way down to the common room.

"impress? who would i be impressing?" you playfully roll your eyes, and speed off, before anything else about the matter was said, to meet remus. he was sat, reading.

"remus?" you approached him; "you ready to go?"

"yes." he smiles at you, and gets up, following you out the castle.

"would you rather we walk or take the carriage?" he asks.

"walking would be nice." you respond.

he nods and you begin walking to hogsmeade, engaging in conversation.

eventually, you had arrived at hogsmeade. the bookshop was called "tomes and scrolls."

"would you like me to.. uh come in with you?" remus asks, blushing slightly.

"yes, thank you." you feel your face heat up.

he follows you into the shop, watching you pick up the book you so desperately wanted.

"i'll pay for it, if you want." he smiles at you.

"you don't have to." you splutter.

"but i want to y/n." his own confidence caught himself off guard.

"i insist you don't.. but maybe you could buy me a butterbeer instead?" you smile.

"like as in a date?" remus's breath hitched. you probably didn't mean it like that. why did he say that out loud? he wanted the ground to swallow him up.

"like a date." you nodded, your cheeks burning.

"that'd be.. that'd be good. not good. brilliant." remus stumbled over his words.

"y/n.. i.. like you. alot." he mutters.

"you do? really?" you look at him.

"of course." he says, avoiding eye contact.

"oh remus, i like you too." you respond, smiling.

remus was caught off guard. he had finally got what he had wanted, after all this time.

you.

and he was happy. very. and so were you, by the looks of your smiling face.

325 notes · View notes

55sturn · 6 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/55sturn/752204504537202688/send-in-some-requests-for-chris-please-i-miss

hanging out with chris and you slowly start to realize that you like him and you end up ghosting him 😭

✮ ALL I WANTED WAS YOU

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis: in which of an indirect proclamation of love doesn’t go the way it’s supposed to.

warnings: angst. that’s it.

you hadn’t meant for your relationship with chris to get this far. you had only meant to be friends with him, but the way he’d look at you, and the way he could answer all your favourite things without second guessing himself, and the way he’d hold you so close to him without even needing to ask if you need a hug, all had you looking at him in a different light.

and to say you were scared would be an understatement, you knew if you expressed your feelings to him, he’d give you the same line he gave his brothers any time they asked if you two were together; “nah man, i cant do that, not with her, she’s too important to me to wreck it by making things romantic.” knowing that it was his fear of love and heartbreak and commitment speaking, and while you understood where he was coming from, you couldn’t jeopardize your own heart. chris means a lot to you, he’s your best friend, so in a futile act of self preservation, you distanced yourself. and for about two months you thought it was working,

until chris showed up at your apartment at one in the morning. his eyes puffy and red-rimmed from crying. he was distraught, you were his best friend and he couldn’t grasp why you would suddenly push him away, and he demanded an explanation.

“why are you shutting me out i thought things were going good?” he croaks, his throat dry as he tries to voice the anger and confusion he’s feeling.

“chris it’s not worth explaining-wait what do you mean by ‘i thought things were going good?” you cut yourself off, his question hitting you a second later than it should’ve.

“as if it’s not obvious that i like you? that i have feelings for you, y/n and up until two months ago, i thought you felt the same.” he whispers, avoiding your gaze as you let out an exasperated sigh.

“i did, i do, but what about that shit you say to your brothers about me being too important to consider dating?”

“i just said that so they’d get off my back about us. i thought everything we did made it clear that i wanted this?” chris sighs, running a hand down his face as he watches your face morph into a mix of something sad and something confused.

“i wanted this too but i was so terrified of you not wanting to it too, of your fear of commitment getting in the way. i’m still so scared.”

“you are the one thing i have committed to in a long time, even without a real relationship existing. my fears about anything to do with a relationship went away the second they were met with the idea of hurting you or pushing you away.”

“but there’s so much at stake chris, my friendship with your brothers, the friends we share, not to mention my friendship with you. if i lose that, i lose everything that means something to me, everything that makes getting up in the morning worth it. everything that has shown me what love is. i can lose just about anything chris, but jesus christ, i cannot lose you.” you whisper, your eyes welling with tears as you shred every ounce of pride, allowing yourself to be bare for a moment, indirectly confessing just how deep your feelings for chris run.

“then don’t push me away, let us be together in the way we want to be, give us a chance, because you are everything i’ve wanted and more.”

“i’m sorry chris but i cant, not when you’re too valuable to me. i don’t want to risk anything. what if we break up and it’s not a good, mutual one? what if it’s harsh and cruel and crushes every chance we could have reconciling? i couldn’t live with that.” you sob, your fears becoming all encompassing as your mind begins to spiral of the torturous what ifs of the relationship souring between you and chris.

“you’re insane if you think i’d ever let you get away once i got a taste of what it’s like to be completely yours.” he whispers, his hands gently cradling your face as he pulls you to face him, his own tears gently trailing down his face, the salt in the tears turning his eyes red, make them seem a shade of such a clear blue that it makes it difficult to keep your own eyes trained on his.

“i’m sorry chris but it’s too risky. i think you should go.”

“well that’s your decision and i may not agree with it but i’m willing to wait until you change your mind, if you ever do. and if you do, you know where to find me.”

taglist: @worldlxvlys @gamermattsgf @vanteguccir @sturnioloshacker @mattscoquette @sugrhigh @bratzforchris @teapartyprincess4two @lustfulslxt @patscorner @guccifrog @muwapsturniolo @soursturniolo @solarsturniolo @sturnioloshacker @raysmayhem-72 @meanttomeet @breeloveschris @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @freshloveee @fawnchives @cindylcuwho @thc-bolter @freshloveforthefit @freshsturns @forevergirlposts @sturniolo-fav-matt @sturnifyed @querenciasturniolo @pinklittleflower @ellie-luvsfics @strniolo @junnniiieee07 @hearts4chriss @evie-sturns @hysteria-things @sturniolossss @iliketotalk @dazednmatthews @bambi-slxt @nickgetsmewetter @inkyray @jnkvivi @cdbabymp3 @certifiedstarrr @imwetforyourmom

#chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut

279 notes · View notes

seecarrun · 7 months ago

Text

“Tah-dah.”

The combination of the deadpan tone and the perky little spirit finger wiggles is enough to make Eddie roll his eyes and scoff at Richie’s antics, so he opens his mouth and starts to call him a fucking idiot.

That is, until he actually gets a look at what it is Richie is showing him.

There, carved into the old wood of The Kissing Bridge, are the letters R+E.

He blinks down at them in something like surprise. “The fuck is this?” he asks. Richie frowns, irritated.

“It’s our fucking initials. What the fuck does it look like?”

“Well, why are our initials carved here?” Eddie asks, not meanly or anything, but definitely bewildered. “Who the fuck wrote our initials here?” He steps closer and bends down to get a better look. “This looks old. Is this from when we were kids? I never noticed this before. Did someone do this to make fun of us or something? Why wouldn’t they tell us? Did they tell you? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Richie waits for Eddie to finish the worst game of twenty-questions in history, exuding the kind of patience he didn’t even know he was capable of as Eddie goes on for what feels like forty fucking minutes.

“Dude,” he finally bursts out, unable to take it anymore, “I carved those. Me. Jesus Christ.”

Eddie blinks up at him, all eyes and freckles, confused. “You did this?”

“Yes.”

“When we were kids?”

“Yes.”

“So…” Eddie looks at the wood and then back at Richie again, and Richie tries not to burst into a million pieces as he sees the cogs slowly turning in Eddie’s head.

“Oh my god, get there faster!” he finally snaps, and Eddie shoots him a glare.

“Shut the fuck up, dude! You had thirty years to know about this shit, I’ve had thirty fucking seconds, I’m fucking processing!” Richie throws his arms into the air and does a weird, exasperated little circle as Eddie continues to inspect the carving, his brows furrowed. “You carved our initials into the kissing bridge when we were kids,” he states again, just to hear the whole thing put together, and gingerly runs his index finger over the plus-sign. “Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Richie asks, cringing.

“Obviously not, if I’m fucking asking.”

Richie’s heaves a sigh. “I liked you,” he finally admits. Somehow, the world doesn’t end. He briefly thinks teenage-Richie would have been surprised by that.

Eddie traces his finger along the E now, slowly. “You liked me back?” he says, so quietly it takes Richie a moment too long before he realizes what Eddie said.

“Wait, back?!”

(Part 2 here)

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #car’s fanfiction #story starter maybe? I could see myself finishing this I think 🤔#it chapter 2

230 notes · View notes

silverskye13 · 2 months ago

Note

rns angst prompt: something to do with evil beesuma and helsknight? And argument? A particularly bad fight? Maybe this was when hk wasn’t champion yet?

The Champion didn't like him. Of that much, Helsknight was certain. Which was a shame, because if Helsknight were being completely honest, he would have to say he looked up to the Champion. Sure Evil Beesuma was sharp and prideful, and seemed to walk around with a permanent chip on his shoulder, but he was also the brother of the man who ruled hels. It was a long, dark shadow to live under, yet he somehow still managed to burst out of it like a second sun rising. When people talked about him, they didn't talk about his brother. They talked about him. His strength. His perseverance. The fact that he built himself from nothing, with no help from Evil X. All his success, he earned himself. It was magnificent. His fights were legendary, all form and poise and bloodless efficiency. Mechanical. Perfect.

[It was a shame, too, that Helsknight was admiring that perfection from the ground.]

Helsknight's mouth tasted like blood. His head swam. There was an ache so deep in his teeth, he wondered if his jaw was broken. Above him, the hels ceiling shifted with phosphorescent colors as stars receded from his vision. Helsknight groaned and slowly, painstakingly, he turned onto his side and spat.

"Alright," Helsknight said raggedly, "give me a few minutes."

The showrunner coaching him relayed his request to the metal goliath standing over him. Evil Beesuma made a loud buzzing noise that Helsknight had come to associate with contempt. On his shadow on the sand, Helsknight watched him sign a dismissive motion, and while he couldn't hear what was said, the intention seemed obvious.

"Give the fool a few minutes. It won't change anything."

The showrunner helped Helsknight stagger to his feet, and together they limped to the stone bench in the practice arena. The broken nose and busted jaw were not the only hurts this particular bout had earned Helsknight. There was a wicked gash on his hip that was bleeding pretty badly, and he had a collection of bruises on his arms and chest that ached deep in his muscles.

"Listen Hels," the showrunner sighed, handing him a health potion.

"Helsknight."

"Whatever. Listen, I know you did well in the starter bracket--"

"Undefeated," Helsknight hummed, licking blood off his lips. It took him a few tries to get the potion uncapped, but when he managed it, he tossed it back. It warmed him all the way down his throat, and as the pain eased away from him, he felt tense muscles relax.

[Gods alive these things were good.]

"And I know you showed promise in the championship tryouts--"

Promise. He'd won eight out of ten of his matches. To get a sponsor, most only needed to win half. Helsknight didn't know who his sponsor was yet, but he knew there was a waiting list involved. A waiting list for him. A waiting list of people who hoped to outbid each other just to buy his gear, and sit in his box, and maybe shake his bloody hand after the match. It was ridiculous.

"But maybe going after the Champion is a little much for you still, yeah?" The showrunner asked pleadingly. "You're clearly outmatched, and a bad starting round can end your career if you're not... Mindful."

The showrunner did not say, if you lose your temper in front of the stands. The showrunner did not say, if Evil Beesuma wipes the floor with you, and it's a bad fight. He did not have to say these things. Helsknight was very well aware.

"We have two weeks before the match." Helsknight said steadfastly. "That's two weeks to prove I can take him."

The showrunner hissed out a long breath and pinched the space between his eyes. "Aren't you tired of getting your ass kicked?"

Anger, hot and quick, flickered to life in Helsknight's chest. It must have showed in his eyes, because the showrunner took a step back, hands raised in exasperation.

"Fine. Far be it from me to keep you from breaking all the bones in your body. Champion." He signed to Evil Beesuma, who had by now cleaned the blood off his knuckles, and retrieved a new sword to practice with. His other one had grown dull against Helsknight's armor and blade. "He still wants to train. Would you--"

Evil Beesuma buzzed something. It was a loud, long, grating note, nearly a roar. The lights of his eyes were narrowed in a glare, all four fists clenched. There was vicious humor there, and no small amount of loathing.

Helsknight didn't blame him. He was a threat to the Champion. The showrunner couldn't tell. It wasn't his job to tell. But Evil Beesuma knew, in the same bone-deep way Helsknight knew, that Helsknight was learning. Perfecting.

When they had started, Helsknight had lasted, oh, about half a minute. Compensating for Evil Beesuma's multiple arms was, unfortunately, the least of his problems. It was the efficiency of movement, calculated dancer-like grace, that was the real trouble. It was the fact that every swing of his sword was always just as strong as the last. No room for error in mechanics. Once a pattern was recognized, it took a fluke to flaw it, and Evil Beesuma was just person enough to compensate for flukes where computer efficiency failed.

But Helsknight was efficient too. He was not the perfect brawler. He was not the perfect gladiator. But he was the perfect knight. At least, he was the perfect knight by his Hermit's standards. His perfection included strength of arms, and a cunning blade, and a thirst for battle that could not be slaked. It apparently also included the ability to adapt and learn. And Helsknight was certainly learning, and learning well.

Two and a half minutes that last round had lasted. Two and a half minutes of dodging, and parrying, and figuring out what hurts he could fight through and what he couldn't. Two and a half minutes of pain tolerance, and the limits of adrenaline, and muscle memory. Two and a half minutes of learning what made a perfect warrior perfect, and adapting it into something he could achieve.

And he would achieve it. Like the sun rising. Like a wave devours a cliff. Helsknight would learn. It was only a matter of time.

Helsknight got to his feet. He took a moment to drink some water, and rinse his mouth, and wash the drying blood from beneath his nose. He made sure the buckles on his gauntlets were tight, and checked the guard on his sword.

Helsknight and the Champion met again on the sand. They were vicious; limbs and teeth and steel. Helsknight imagined someday he would go deaf from the ringing of metal. Someday. Today though, he was going to lose to the Champion again. It would take less than two and a half minutes. Even if the health potion revitalized his muscles, it didn't take the weariness out of his mind.

The Champion got him in a headlock. The movement was so baffling, Helsknight didn't even know how he'd managed it. He'd simply twisted, and what once had been freedom, and the shiver of stung nerves as blade met blade, turned into a vice around his neck and arms tangled in his, holding him still.

[Cheating. Helsknight thought scathingly. That's cheating.]

It was cheating for a knight. There was a certain amount of honor and decorum he was held to that the Champion was not.

The Champion was a brawler. He hadn't spawned into this world strong and implacable, a diamond and netherite wall. He had built himself this way, piece by piece and code by code. It was admirable. Enviable. He turned Helsknight feeble with flippant assuredness, and Helsknight had started strong. It was part of why Helsknight admired him. The Champion had achieved his greatness by building himself into something better.

It hadn't made him kind, and that too, Helsknight envied in its own way. The Champion was a weapon that was blunt and unyielding as a club, and he broke people precisely. He did not grieve his actions. He took pride in their efficiency, no matter how ugly it was. That was the nature of violence.

Evil Beesuma held him still, choking, until stars devoured his vision and novaed black. It was not a slow squeeze. There was no threat of slowly strangled air or struggle to wrench his arms into place. Evil Beesuma had closed on him like a bear trap, and did not release his iron jaws until Helsknight was sure he intended to suffocate him to death.

Helsknight awoke on the sand, gasping like a hooked fish, his throat refusing to open completely even when freed. It hurt. His lungs burned, and his throat was bruised, and the simple action of swallowing was thick and unbearable. He tried to turn onto his side, to help his damaged muscles move, but the Champion landed a foot in the center of his chest, pinning him on his back. Evil Beesuma looked down at him, arms crossed over his bent knee as he leaned his weight down on Helsknight. For someone already struggling to breathe, it was a cruelty. Helsknight felt his chest fall when his breath was squeezed out of him, and he felt every muscle in his chest protest as it struggled to rise against the weight.

"I ought to kill you," the Champion said, his voice a bored drone that seemed to leap into Helsknight's head when their eyes met. "You seem to think some passing skill with a blade entitles you to something. It doesn't. I don't owe you anything, knight."

Helsknight gripped at the Champion's ankle, a new burst of adrenaline spiking him as fear at his situation sank in. Stars, slow pinpricks, were gathering on the edges of his vision again. His entire world narrowed to the effort of breathing. The Champion reached down, and doing so pressed what was left of the air out of Helsknight's lungs. Cold metal splayed against the side of Helsknight's face as the Champion forced him to meet his eyes.

"You are a waste of my time," Evil Beesuma said, cold and inflectionless. The contempt of someone convinced they were watching someone far beneath them try to struggle upwards.

Helsknight realized he was scared. It surged to him through the stars devouring his sight again, followed swiftly by the darkness beyond. He was scared. Scared and cornered. Cornered. And angry. Rage filled the gaps in his lungs, consumed the stars in his vision. The world in front of him went briefly red, consumed by the determination to be spiteful and petty, and to make the Champion think twice before belittling him like this again.

Helsknight punched Evil Beesuma as hard as he could in the knee, the only thing he could really reach. His gauntlet saved him the sharpness of the metal around the Champion's legs, but he felt his knuckles break. He also felt the Champion's leg slip away from him. He fell like a tree, landing halfway on Helsknight's legs.

Helsknight gasped in a breath of air so deep he had to cough it all back out again. Everything about him to do with air and breathing rioted, tangled with the wash of nausea that came in the aftermath of adrenaline, and he nearly gagged. Helsknight tried to stand, made it halfway to his knees, when a shove to his side sent him back over again. Helsknight braced himself as best he could, waiting for some show of cruelty. He glared up at the Champion in ragged defiance, trying to find his breath.

The Champion was laughing at him. Elated. Surprised. Wholly unbothered. Helsknight had probably broken his hand on Evil Beesuma's knee, and it had all the effects of a bird landing.

"I'll give you one thing knight, you've got some fire," the Champion laughed, his voice cloyed with the derisive affection one might reserve for an arrogant child. "But you need to learn when a fight is lost." He made a dismissive motion with his hand, sweeping the idea of Helsknight aside. "Try me again in a few months, when you've figured out how to bend iron."

The Champion turned away from him. He was leaving. The tide of Helsknight's rage at the dismissal surged him to his feet. He reached for the dagger on his belt, determined to do something, anything, to chip away at that iron wall. Just a scratch would do. Proof the Champion was fallible. Mortal. Beatable.

He threw the dagger.

Later, months later, when Helsknight and EB were friends, EB would teach Helsknight how to properly throw a knife. It would be a game they played fondly, friendly competition, where they could get fierce safely. Where they learned how to challenge each other to be better. Now though, Helsknight didn't know how to throw a knife. He still felt vindicated though, when the handle hit Evil Beesuma squarely in the back of the head.

The Champion stopped in his tracks, turned with red eyed fury on the impudent knight. Helsknight's lip curled in a sneer. He moved his hands rapidly, in the only sign language he knew.

[He had meant for it to be a good thing, learning sign. Helsknight knew the Champion had a sizable crowd of deaf and mute fans; people who saw in him a brighter future, where they were seen and understood and appreciated equally. A world where people listened to them. Helsknight thought it was unfair then, that only the Champion bothered to incorporate sign into his sets. They should be able to hear the Champion's challenger without the help of an interpreter. And, just like they did, Evil Beesuma deserved to be met where he was, with words he could follow easily. He shouldn't have to memorize stage directions, and distant indecipherable mumbling, just because his challenger was lazy.]

[The showrunner Helsknight had been assigned told him it was a bad idea. He said he would be learning a language just to insult it's Champion with it. Helsknight had argued Evil Beesuma was the Colosseum's darling. For all his prideful shortcomings in the privacy of the cells, outwardly, as much as he could be to a crowd of thousands, he was just and strong and kind. If Helsknight was going to depose him, he was destined to be the heel anyway.]

[When Helsknight had told the Champion what he wanted to do, Evil Beesuma had actually considered his challenge. It was probably the only reason he'd humored him this long.]

[Helsknight really was stupid when he was angry.]

"Pride comes before the fall," Helsknight signed, and then he shouted, because Evil Beesuma was looking at him, and he didn't know the signs for his next words: "You absolute piece of shit!"

It was not his brightest moment.

It wasn't Evil Beesuma's either.

The Champion's eyes reddened and narrowed with anger. His hand flew to his sword, and he lanced forward in a flickering of color.

Helsknight respawned in his room in the cells, gasping in sucking breaths around a hole in his throat that was no longer there. He was still angry. Angrier, now that he'd faced a terror of respawn, and it had shaken him far more than he thought it would. When he rolled off his bed, his hands were shuddering, his nerves jangled. His only sword and armor were in the training yard, and he bolted for them. He shoved past gladiators in his way, pounded up the stairs, tore through the mess hall. When he burst onto the sand, Evil Beesuma was waiting for him, all wrath and stung pride.

He at least had the grace to let Helsknight grab his sword.

The moment their swords crossed again, Helsknight knew something was wrong. It took a few minutes for that wrongness to bash its way past his fury, but in a bone-deep way, he noticed it. Evil Beesuma was moving too slowly. Inefficiently. There was a jerkiness to his movements that hadn't been there before. Imperfection. A crack in the iron wall.

At first, Helsknight chalked it up to a loss of composure. He'd managed to piss the Champion off, and so his poise was slipping. Helsknight didn't lose his composure in quite the same way when he was angry and fighting. He slipped deep into muscle memory, and turned into a creature of reactions and instinct, all conscious thought fled in the wake of emotion and brute strength. It had won him more than one match. He was ready for it to win him this.

Helsknight slammed his blade into the Champion's near the hilt, and Evil Beesuma, strong as a hoglin with hands like vices, didn't drop it, but he backpedaled. It was not the appropriate response to what Helsknight had done. Imperfect. The wrongness Helsknight's conscious brain noticed needled at him again. He lifted his sword into a guard position and waited.

[He will spring for me, Helsknight thought. He is stronger, and his skills are more finely tuned. He works best when he overwhelms.]

The Champion did not spring forward. He took a step back instead, and seemed to catch his breath. The Champion was made of metal and redstone. He did not breathe. He did not bleed. And from what Helsknight could tell, nothing on him was broken. Helsknight wasn't strong enough, harmful enough, good enough, to break the Champion. He wasn't even sure he'd hit him once.

Helsknight narrowed his eyes, and let out a long slow breath, and dragged his anger down, called it to heel.

"Champion Beesuma," Helsknight asked, trying not to grind his teeth, trying not to be spiteful. He was a knight. He needed to act like one. "Are you well?"

Evil Beesuma laughed. It was a haughty thing, meant for bravado, but it too sounded off. Shaken. Yes, something was wrong. The Champion looked down to one of his hands, which Helsknight realized was shaking. Evil Beesuma blinked down at it. His sword lowered, and then dropped from his grasp. His sword hand, too, was shaking. He said something, speaking to himself, soft inflection. A question. The Champion wasn't looking at him, so Helsknight couldn't decipher the words, but the tone was dread.

Not here. Not now.

Helsknight sheathed his sword. He held out a hand, trying to show he meant no harm. "Champion?"

Evil Beesuma, the Champion of the Colosseum, collapsed. It happened so slowly, he almost seemed to fold in on himself. Not a swoon. Not a faint. Just a slow sink first to his knees, and then to the ground. The only sign the movement wasn't intentional was from the continued shaking in his hands, and the way the bright screen that made his face flickered and jolted through expressions, breaking into off-color pixels.

Helsknight's first worry, as he sank down beside him, was that in his anger he'd broken something irreparable. He didn't think he had, but he knew the Champion was different than a regular helsmet. More fragile, in odd ways. Redstone and mechanical pieces, much like his armor and weapons, didn't mend on respawn. The soul of a person did, the bits that made them work, but a broken ax didn't regain durability just because you died holding it. Evil Beesuma was subject to that; his mechanical parts more often than not needed mended and replaced after heavy matches. He had a small fleet of drones to help with this, little bee-shaped helpers who flew around him when he went about his business. But whatever was going wrong with him now seemed to infect them too. The two or three that had even managed to flit over to him flew in dizzy, decaying circles overhead, bumping into each other. One, simply dropped out of the sky.

"Champion, can you speak?" Helsknight asked as calmly as he could, trying to meet the Champion's eye, but finding it hard to know where to look when the screen was glitching so badly. "Can you tell me what's wrong, or how I can help you?"

[If he could help at all, besides simply holding the Champion's hand and saying useless platitudes about how all things pass.]

The showrunner, who had until that point, apparently, been content to watch them kill each other, materialized at his side in a rush.

"You can't help him," he said nervously. "I'm surprised you've never seen this before. It's--" he looked away and cleared his throat. "The Champion isn't well."

Helsknight blinked. His first instinct was to snap yes, of course he isn't well. He just blacked out, or fell into whatever equivalent an android could have for a seizure. Obviously he wasn't well. Then the statement sank in, the implication beneath digging hooks in.

The Champion was dying.

Helsknight, very stupidly, found himself on the verge of asking why. Why him? Why now? Why this? Why like this? Helsknight had only seen someone on the verge once before, the Universe temporarily dithering over someone's mortality. It had been when he was still a squire, and one of the knights had... It wasn't a fit exactly. They'd been training, and she became lightheaded and shaky, and had a hard time breathing. At the time, Helsknight thought it was heat stroke, or maybe that she'd overexerted herself. When she sat down to cool off, she'd fallen asleep.

It had taken her three days to wake, and when she did, she was quiet, and meek, and scared.

Helsknight sighed, and he swore. "How long has this been happening?"

"Last I heard it'd only happened once," the showrunner answered skeptically. "Then again, he hadn't wanted anyone to know."

"Well. They're going to know now," Helsknight said grimly. "Make yourself useful and get me a strength potion." Then he snapped, when the showrunner blinked at him in exasperation, "Unless you'd like to carry him down to his cell yourself?"

They scampered off. Helsknight sighed again, running a hand through his hair. Respawn had done him one good turn at least; he wouldn't have to take any armor off before trying to drag the Champion downstairs.

"Alright then," Helsknight grunted as he got his arm beneath Evil Beesuma's shoulders and started lifting him. He was heavy and unwieldy, with too many limbs that were all too long. The Champion was taller than Helsknight by just enough that it made a difference when trying to carry him.

It was hard work getting the Champion downstairs. It was even harder work trying to be discreet about it. People saw him. Helsknight couldn't help that. But he at least stuck to the less traveled stairways, so news would travel slower. When he finally made it down the long, loud hall to Evil Beesuma's cell, he was relieved and grateful. He deposited the Champion into his bed, and arranged his limbs into a position that seemed comfortable. Then, not entirely sure what to do, Helsknight left.

It took the Champion a day and a half to wake. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't very long. Helsknight had heard of helsmets nearer to death falling asleep for days or weeks. The idea was terrifying to Helsknight, that he might, out on the streets one day, simply pass out and never wake again, smothered in the jaws of the Universe. This was not nearly so dramatic, Evil Beesuma might really have only suffered a handful of the episodes.

But it was enough time that people noticed, and they talked. They talked about whether the Champion was fit to fight. They talked about whether they would risk killing him. Some people were even so bold as to talk about him like he was dead already. They talked about what his statue would look like in the Colosseum hall. What they would do if he perished before a new Champion could be made. It made Helsknight angry hearing it. When he stumbled into those conversations, he found himself glowering and looming until the discussion broke off.

The day after Evil Beesuma woke, Helsknight gathered his courage and visited him. The Champion didn't like him, probably wouldn't appreciate him coming. Helsknight didn't blame him. It would sting someone's pride to act so high, and so cruel, and so triumphant, only to be felled a moment later by the hels equivalent of a lightning strike.

Evil Beesuma was alone when Helsknight entered his cell. He was sitting on his bed, face held in his hands, papers spread out on the sheets beside him. Helsknight caught a glance of a missive with the Colosseum seal on it.

"Your sponsor is concerned that, should you die in your next match--"

Helsknight averted his eyes quickly. He quietly backed out of the room, awkwardly considered his options. He thought, probably, the Champion might appreciate the chance to save some face around someone he didn't like. He sighed.

[Respect the honor of your fellow helsmet, he repeated to himself, trying not to feel ridiculous.]

Helsknight retreated up the hall a ways, and then made his footsteps loud when he came back again. He knocked obnoxiously on a few doors, and asked loudly and stupidly for directions to the Champion's cell. The walls in the cells were thin. He was easy to hear, even if the Champion couldn't catch the words. He would at least know someone was coming.

Sure enough, this time when he answered, Evil Beesuma was standing. The missives were collected in a neat, face-down pile on the bed. A dozen of his little buzzing drones hovered around his shoulders, scanning and doing maintenance. He had put on a practiced air of disdain and unconcern. Good. He didn't know his moment of despair had been witnessed.

"What are you here for?" Evil Beesuma demanded, all four of his arms crossed.

Helsknight briefly considered the best way to be respectful. He decided the best thing he could do was treat the Champion like nothing had changed. Enough people were treating him like he was fragile.

"I came to ask if you were well," Helsknight said simply, and when he was met with stony silence, begrudgingly added, "and I came to apologize for losing my temper."

Evil Beesuma side-eyed one of his drones, as though they were passing secret messages between each other. Helsknight thought it was a handy little trick to make people feel scrutinized. It added to the Champion's air of skepticism and disdain.

[Don't get angry, he hissed at himself, when the burn of emotion flickered in his stomach. Don't get angry.]

"Generally speaking, my Order is against outbursts like that," Helsknight continued, valiantly pretending he was unphased. "And it was arrogance on my part. I'm well aware I'm beneath your skill, and you offered me a kindness in using your time to train me."

Briefly, Helsknight considered kneeling. It would be a very knightly thing to do. He also thought his pride would eat him alive if he did it. He was still a bit too resentful of that foot planted on his chest, squeezing the life out of him. Helsknight settled on a small, stuff bow. It made Evil Beesuma laugh, a sharp derisive noise. Helsknight stubbornly ignored the thorn of anger pressing deeper into his side.

"I humbly ask you continue training me," Helsknight said, "and you consider accepting my challenge for the Championship."

"If you think just because you carried me down here I owe you something, I don't," Evil Beesuma said sharply.

"I don't think you owe me anything," Helsknight said, trying to keep both hands on his patience. "I'm asking politely for your time."

"And why in hels should I give it to you?" The Champion stepped towards him, towering. Anger, and the soft touch of nervousness, pulled a little harder against Helsknight's restraint. He wasn't used to being intimidated. He decided immediately he didn't like it. "As you've clearly noticed, I have little enough of it to go around. What makes you think you deserve it?"

"Because I'm a knight."

"Because you're a knight?" Evil Beesuma laughed. "Am I supposed to be impressed because you walk around in a fancy cape all day?"

Helsknight scowled. He clenched his fists at his sides, and for a long, cold moment, considered punching the Champion as hard as he could in the face. It probably wouldn't do anything besides wound his own knuckles, but gods alive it would feel great. And then he would wash his hands of the stupid gladiator, and all his spiteful, biting pride.

[Saint help me. Saint keep my temper somewhere else.]

"Being a knight means I will treat you with honor and respect, Champion," Helsknight said, trying to keep the aggravated growl out of his voice. "No matter what state you're in when the fighting starts."

The Champion narrowed his eyes at him.

Helsknight took that as a... positive sign.

"The showrunners aren't going to want to risk you in the Colosseum now," Helsknight said quietly. "Your fellow fighters will be tempted to stay their hands, to take it easy on you, because they're scared they'll be the ones to kill you."

"And you're not?" Evil Beesuma snorted skeptically. "I suppose you'll take pride in being the one that finally kills me."

"Don't insult me, Champion!" Helsknight snapped fiercely, taking an angry step forward, so they were chest to chest. "I would never take joy in something like that. Losing you would be a greater sin to this world than anything my winning would gain. People look up to you. They aspire to be like you -- at least the kind show you put on for the crowd."

Evil Beesuma made an uncomfortable noise, guilty.

[Good, he should be, for how he'd been acting.]

"And despite your ruthlessness teaching me," Helsknight said, trying again to regain control of his emotions, at least enough to keep from yelling quite so vehemently, "I respect you. For your strength, and perseverance, and what you've built. You have a legacy here. Something you are rightly proud of."

Helsknight huffed out a tense breath through his nose. "I think it would be a shame to be robbed of that legacy, and the vindication of the works of your hands, because someone else is too scared to accept your challenge. You should have the choice to fight, and keep fighting. Not to rot at the top because ambition fails. If I were in your place, I would hope someone would offer me the same."

Helsknight stepped back from the Champion, breathing intentional, slow breaths through his nose. Embarrassment was starting to chase him, the feeling of stupidity at his fervency, and his vulnerability. Evil Beesuma's gaze slid away from him, some of his previous spite and fire gone. At the very least, he didn't loom threateningly anymore.

Helsknight sighed. Perhaps... A tactical retreat was best. Before he opened his mouth and said some other ridiculous thing. He offered the Champion another stiff bow, silently dismissing himself. Just before he crossed the threshold, buzzing filtered towards him, low and weary. Helsknight turned to look at him.

"Tomorrow, first thing in the morning," the Champion said quietly. Then, with a bit more of his former bite, "Bring your dagger. That throw was trash."

Helsknight nodded. He exited into the hallway, wandering with ever quickening steps back to the stairs that would take him to his cell. Halfway up the stairs he sighed, and stopped, and leaned his forehead against the wall. His hands were shaking.

"If I'm the one who kills the Champion, they'll hate me," he whispered to himself. Between hels and his Hermit, and the spiteful Champion below, he supposed he would have to get used to being hated.

"Nowhere in your tenets does it say you need to be loved," Helsknight murmured. He sighed again, and ascended the steps.

[Some things were more important than his image anyway.]

#rns angst asks #leapdayowo #rns angst ficlet #rns ficlet #helsknight #evil beesuma #eb #[wiggling my arms] i have so many ideas for their relationship before HK was champion #EB was an insufferable prideful thing on an individual level #very hard to like #as with most of the characters hes mellowed out over the years lol #and i mean -- obviously he didnt die he got better #but we're not talking about that right now #anyway im sleepy and this isnt the best #but its nice to get the thoughts out

106 notes · View notes