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charliemwrites · 11 months ago

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Nikto's Commandments part 8! (and the first half of the Jealousy Duet).

I'll be honest, I got stuck with this one! For some reason I just couldn't get a good flow going and had to try writing this a few different times. I think it shows in the beginning, but I get the rhythm back towards the end.

Also, apologies if there are more errors than usual. I kind of powered through it and am too afraid I'm going to hate it if I try to read it over.

Anyway, please enjoy as always <3

Content: Jealousy, Acts of Devotion, Declarations of Love, Kissing

It’s your first mission since Nikto failed you.

(You may have forgiven him. He’s even accepted that you have, merciful as you are. But that doesn’t change the truth of what happened – that he failed you. That he left your side, and then almost didn’t return. You’ve forbade him from hanging himself with “almost,” but that doesn’t mean he can’t feel the noose around his throat.)

You’re long since healed and recovered under Nikto’s devoted watch. Nurturing may not come naturally to him, but he’d bend himself into any shape for your use. So, he made himself into your caregiver. Weeks of helping you sit up, walk, bathe… until you were back in the gym, right by his side, gritting your teeth through physical therapy.

A scar is all that’s left now, silvery and tender. The only sign that Nikto’s world nearly bled away on dirty concrete. A reminder of his failure, his disgrace. How could he possibly deserve a place at your side, when he couldn’t even protect you? When he thought, for even a moment, that vengeance mattered more than your life?

Still, he returns to your side. Because you told him to, all that time ago. Because he has so much to make up for after everything. And because you haven’t given him leave to be anywhere else.

(He prays that you don’t the only way he knows how. Through meals from his own hand while you grin, nipping at his fingers. Through tea shared from one cup. With fragrant products in your wet hair while you sigh. You haven’t told him he could be anywhere else, beckoning him into a bed bigger than the one on base, still tucking in close like one of you might fall off the edge.)

It’s not that he thinks you incapable now. He would never blaspheme that you are anything other than utterly competent. It’s just that every blink superimposes pools of blood over his vision, a strobe of you near death.

In his most selfish, private thoughts, he imagines taking you away from it all for good. Tucking you away warm and safe in the cathedral of your off-base apartment, where a god belongs, in their own house. He soothes himself on visions of devoting himself to you fully and wishes he were a prophet. But for all you’ve given him, visions of the future are not one of them.

You were eager to return to duty, nearly cornered O’Conor once you got final clearance from the doctors. Nearly shook him down for a new assignment – for the both of you. Even if he had reservations about sending you to duty so soon, an opportunity to keep Nikto and his temper away a little longer was too tempting. (The bruises Nikto left on his throat were long gone, but the memory clearly was not.)

And so here you both are, in the gym of an SAS base, sparring with Task Force 141.

“Oi, lass! Care for a match?”

“Bring it, MacTavish!”

Nikto stands back to observe as you and the sergeant square off.

The 141 has been cooperative, despite previous tensions with KorTac. You, Nikto, and Konig have managed to build a decent working rapport – though most of that work has been yours. Their captain seems to like your friendly personality and straightforward professionalism; their lieutenant has been cordial. But the two sergeants (especially the Scottish one) have taken a liking to you.

“Fuck!”

Nikto jerks as you get taken down on your bad side – no, it’s not your bad side anymore. You’ve fully recovered; he must remember that. Interrupting a sparring match would be unwelcome and unnecessary. Not just overprotective on his part, but disrespectful to you as well, as if he doesn’t think you can hold your own. Still, he balls his hands into fists as you struggle against the sergeant.

At least you’re laughing, breathless and curse laden as it is.

“She is okay, ja?” Konig asks.

Nikto grunts the affirmative, eyes sharp as he watches you knee MacTavish’s side. Good, he thinks proudly as you twist to get on top. You’ve been working tirelessly to improve your groundwork techniques, learning all the different ways you can use your smaller stature against bigger and stronger opponents.

“He is… friendly,” Konig continues.

Another grunt of agreement. Most people are with you. It’s a natural reaction in the face of divinity; to reach out to a smiling god. It worked on Nikto, anyone else would be helpless. It’s just the natural order of things like green grass, blue skies, or gravity.

There’s a pause that starts to prickle the back of Nikto’s mind. Disinterested as he may be in socializing, he understands how it works. A program that runs in his mind – body language, tone, inflection, facial expression. A complex algorithm that computes to emotion, conversation, feeling. It’s just not an equation that applies to him, or that he can apply to himself anymore.

And right now, Konig is trying to imply something. Nikto cuts his eyes to the side, meets Konig’s.

“Too friendly, don’t you think?” he adds.

Nikto snorts and turns back to the match – where you are just tapping out. MacTavish is unwinding his arm from your windpipe. You’re sat between his legs, back to his chest. A tough position to get out from in a fight. As you’re scooting away, the sergeant pats your hip, leans to say, “good match” in your ear. You shoot him a grin over your shoulder and then push to your feet, sauntering back to your own team.

“Whose turn is it?” you ask, wiping sweat from your brow.

You don’t see MacTavish’s eyes darting up and down your body, zeroing in on the sliver of skin revealed by your lifted shirt. But Nikto does.

“Mine,” Konig answers, stepping forward.

You smile at him, bump fists with him. “Kick his ass for me, yeah?”

“Ja.”

He shoots Nikto one last, pointed look before stepping onto the mat. But Nikto has no interest in watching his match. Not when you’re right in front of him, a sheepish look on your face.

“I can’t believe I lost like that,” you groan. “Guess I need more practice.”

“We will practice,” he promises.

You beam and knock the back of your hand gently against his.

Like an insidious weed, Konig’s observation takes root and sprouts. Sergeant MacTavish’s friendliness.

It’s almost like Nikto is hallucinating again – or perhaps that he has just stopped. A veil pulled away from his eyes. A creature camouflaged in the brush, his eyes skipping over the landscape until an irregularity in the pattern was pointed out to him. And now he cannot stop seeing it.

MacTavish saying hello to you first every morning, asking how you slept with a twinkle in his eye. He offers to accompany you to training sessions, often chooses you first for cross-team drills. In downtime, he’ll invite you to socialize (with the rest of the 141, sure) and always save you a seat or a spot. Usually right next to him.

And it is not that he doesn’t acknowledge Nikto or Konig. He is amicable with both, works well with either of them when paired up. But there is always a tilt to his mouth when he speaks to you, a lilt to his voice. A subtle incline to his shoulders that makes every interaction seem just that slightest bit intimate.

A week into the assignment, and he is touching you freely. First a hand tapping elbow or shoulder. Then an arm around the back of your neck. Platonic, commiserating. Within a day, that arm drops to your shoulders and he’s leaning the side of his head against yours, something a bit warmer than a hug.

One morning, he scoops you up in a hug, your toes nearly off the ground. You seem surprised, reciprocate with a pat to the back before you’re set down and offered a chair.

And the sparring… the sparring gets worse. Not just an exchange of blows and a chance to improve skills with a new partner anymore. It’s become a game of teasing you, joking with you. Tagging you with hits to coax you into going after him. Wrestling with you on the ground and dragging it out while he grunts and huffs against you.

And Nikto… Nikto burns.

This is not hell, he knows; but maybe this is some form of purgatory.

He has no place, no right to suffer. Knows that trying to claim you as his own would be like trying to cage the sun. It wouldn’t just be selfish; it would be heresy. You’ve already given him a miracle; you told him you love him. That is far beyond anything he could deserve, anything he could hope or dream or long for. To take after all that, to demand more of the time, attention, energy you pour into him like holy water…

And yet.

And yet he wants to claw his skin off when MacTavish winks at you. Wants to set the world on fire when that accent purrs “bonnie” or “hen” at you. An awful, deafening static scream fills the fractures of his mind when you smile at the sergeant, when you wish him a good morning or evening.

“How are you with a sniper, hen?” MacTavish asks one day.

You hum, glance over at Nikto. He’s been training you with his own rifle for months now – though it’s obviously been on pause since your injury. “Well, I’ve been working on it, but I definitely need some improvement.”

MacTavish crosses his arms, biceps bulging against the sleeves of his t-shirt. “I wouldn’t mind giving you a few pointers, if you want to come down to the range with me some time. Promise I’m a good teacher.”

You blink, hesitate. Then lightly, “Yeah, maybe!”

Nikto can’t hang himself on an “almost,” but he’s gutted on a “maybe.”

That night you come out of the bathroom frowning. There’s a furrow between your brows that you only get when you’re both frustrated and worried; if it stays, you’ll have a headache within the hour.

“Nikto?”

He glances up from the knives he’s polishing. You stop, eyes darting all over him, towel frozen in your hand.

“Hm?” he prompts.

You don’t answer. Instead, drop the towel carelessly on the floor and stride across the room. Towards him. He only just manages to shove his equipment out of the way by the time you reach him. And you don’t stop, climbing onto the hard desk chair he’s in, straddling his lap. Your fingers curl so tight in his chest straps that he can hear them creak.

He’s trapped as much by your gaze as your weight. Something swimming in the pools of your irises that he hasn’t seen in them before. Doesn’t know how to name or how to tame.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

He jerks back in surprise, but you’ve got a solid grip and there’s nowhere to go.

“Did I… do something?” you ask. “Or… or not do something?”

He stares. “What?” he asks, mouth gone suddenly dry.

Your eyes are still darting between his, like you’ll find answers playing peekaboo between them.

“You haven’t been right the past few days. Maybe even a week,” you explain. “I’ve been giving you space to tell me, but you won’t. And I’m sorry, I’m not trying to pressure you, but please just talk to me.”

Now his brows furrow. “I haven’t been…?”

You sit back a bit, assured that you have his attention – as if that isn’t guaranteed.

“You’re not eating the same. Didn’t even take the green beans I put aside for you,” you say. “You’re not sharing my tea or letting me wrap your hands. You keep leaving for a smoke in the middle of the night. Hell, you’re wearing your mask in our room.”

It dawns on him like apocalypse. That he has been worrying you, affecting you.

“And you’re not… you’re not talking to me.” Your white-knuckled grip eases a bit as you run out of steam, sadness tinging your expression. “I know we don’t talk the normal way but… I haven’t been able to read you. You won’t look me in the eye or press our legs together. You’re even pulling away in your sleep.”

His heart is trying to claw out of his ribcage, wants to crawl into the palm you press to his chest.

“So… if I’m doing something or not doing something… you can tell me. I promise I won’t be upset. I just miss you.”

He crumbles.

Weeks under torture, but he breaks at four words.

You gasp as he rips the gear off his face. Try to help, but he just pushes your hands away. Knows he’s aggravated the old wounds, but a balm is at hand, pressing his face into the crook of your neck.

“моя любовь,” he whispers fervently. “моя надежда. моя богиня.”

You curl around him instantly, arms around his shoulders, fingers fluffing through the fuzz of hair at the back of his skull. Gentle and kind and everything that sinners and saints would fall on their swords for. And yet all you ask of him is to speak, to confess.

“I fear,” he rasps into your skin.

“Fear what?” you ask.

He is your protector, your disciple. Yours to command, to damn, to sacrifice if you so wished – and he would gladly spill his corroded innards at your feet, careful not to bloody your shoes. And he fears that you won’t ask him to.

“You are not mine, but I fear losing you,” he admits. You suck in a breath, arms tightening around him. “If not to MacTavish, then to the world. I will be left here without you again.”

He squeezes his eyes shut as the scars sear all over again, crushes his crooked nose against your collarbone.

“I am yours,” he whispers, lungs burning, “and I cannot be that if you are gone.”

You shift, pressing closer, tighter. Lay your cheek on his head and squeeze him so tightly he wonders if you’re not inviting him inside your ribcage.

“I thought you understood,” you whisper, and even that cracks with emotion. “I’m sorry, I thought I made it clear. I thought you knew…”

You urge him back. He wants to resist. Wants to stay right there in the hollow of your neck, breathing in the soap you two share, basking in your warmth. But you are bidding him to do something, and he is a weak man to your command.

Your eyes are shiny, but there’s a smile on your face when you look at him.

“You’re mine,” you assure him, “you will always be mine. I will never turn you away.”

His eyes flutter with relief. Always. He has no business questioning the truth of that. You’ve said it; it is so.

“I’m yours too, Nikto.”

His eyes snap open again, but you hold him still, hold him right there.

“Our love isn’t a cross for you to bear,” you murmur. “I belong to you the same way – the exact same way – that you are mine.”

“I don’t—”

“You remember what I told you in that car all those months ago?”

Don’t deserve it? That’s not your choice. Don’t understand? You don’t have to. I just do. It wasn’t a choice I made.

Your word is genesis. It is revelation. It is creed and commandment, redemption and atonement.

You’ve said it; it is so.

“Here.”

You snatch a pad of black ink from one of the desk drawers, grab at one of his useless, hovering hands.

“What are you—”

You smear his bare fingertips across the damp pad. Then press them to your forearm. He jerks his hand back, but it’s too late. His smudged fingerprints stain your skin in inky little pools. When he looks up at you, you’re grinning. Wide and beautiful and so damn proud of yourself.

“C’mon,” you coo. “Do it again.”

He hesitates. But his eyes are drawn back to his fingerprints on your skin. His mind echoes with your declaration.

You are his. You are his.

To deny you this, to deny your belonging, would be beyond blasphemy. Beyond sin.

You have said it; it is so. You. Are. His.

You beam as he takes the inkpad and gets his fingers wet again. Begins leaving marks all over you. Along your arms, over your collarbone. Lean back to get palm prints on your thighs. Sits you on the desk to smear lines up your calves. You even tug your shirt up, giggling all the while, so that he can mark up your stomach.

He pauses at the gunshot. Places his blackened thumb over the entry scar. Pulls it away to see the whorls of his fingerprint covering it.

You soften, kind hands cupping his jaw and guiding him up. Up and up… until your plush lips are slotted against his. His own stained hands land on your hips – likely ruining your little sleep shorts – and pull you as close as he can get you. Infusing himself with the taste of you, of your love, of your belonging.

“Yours,” you murmur against his mangled mouth.

“Yours,” he repeats.

The next day, you walk into the mess hall with Nikto’s fingers hooked into your belt loops. There’s a single black smudge on your jaw.

First | Previous | TBC...

Masterlist

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #nikto x reader #cod nikto #nikto's commandments

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kazumist · 6 months ago

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DRUNK WORDS ARE SOBER THOUGHTS .ᐟ

✩ — in which you found yourself confessing to your childhood friend, soshiro. all thanks to the liquid courage you got.

✩ — includes: hoshina soshiro x gn!reader. fluff. cw: reader is implied to wear makeup (but i didn't really use any gendered terms haha), ooc!hoshina i think.. uhm i wrote him differently here than how i usually write him ack TT. wc: 778. one (1) pet name used (bub). reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated !!

“let’s get you home.” hoshina swings your arm over his shoulder as he places his arm around your waist to balance you in his hold. “huuuuh? have we met before?’ you ask as your words are slurred. you look at the man holding you, squinting your eyes to get a good look at him (though that doesn’t really help because nothing is really processing for you at the moment). “we’ve been literally friends since we were kids.” hoshina says.

“ehhhh? soshiro?! no way! you’re all… you’re all so grown up now!” you exclaimed. soshiro takes note of the blush on your cheeks, and the way you keep stumbling in your steps. although it’s rare, he just sighs as he confirms that you were absolutely drunk at the moment. “that’s because i ain’t a kid anymore, you silly.”

getting you back to your dormitory was a hard task, even for the vice captain of the third division. only because during your trip back you kept making random comments like how soshiro was almost as pretty as the moon (you were looking at a street lamp thinking it was the moon) and he could only hold back his laugh.

as hoshina settles you on your bed, he proceeds to remove your makeup from your face. knowing you this long was enough for him to become familiar with your routine when it comes to attending celebrations like these. he gently wipes the cosmetic products from your face, making sure to keep quiet because you finally slept.

well, apparently, you still woke up either way. “you know, hiro…” the nickname rolled off of your tongue perfectly—almost too perfectly, if soshiro must admit. only you could call him that; after all, you were the one who came up with that nickname for him anyway. you stared at him with half lidded eyes, too tired to fully open them. “you have a stupid face.” you finish.

hoshina found himself dumbfounded.

“eh?”

“but it’s my favorite face to look at.”

oh.

"i suppose i'm grateful for the compliment.” he pushes the hairs that were hiding your face aside and chuckles. “you should go home; i might do something stupid.” he tilts his side to the side in confusion. “like what?”

“like kissing you.” he froze.

surely, this is just the alcohol, right? soshiro wonders, surprised at your words as he held his breath. “or maybe i roll off of my bed and end up sleeping on the floor.” you continue. he lets out a sigh of relief. soshiro only kept his feelings for you to himself. though he’d casually make some gestures, and that’s good enough to question if you’re crossing the line between friends and lovers.

“you should sleep. you’re completely drunk right now.”

“i'm totally, absolutely not at all drunk at all. like... at all!”

“sure, and i’m not the vice captain of this division.” he receives a pout from you as you turn away from him. he laughs at your antics, gently shaking you as he apologizes. you refused to face him as you focused your gaze on the wall. liquid courage was no joke—because you somehow feel more confident to admit more... personal thoughts to the man who’s sitting behind you.

“hey, soshiro?”

“yeah? are you feeling a bit better now?”

“i… would you hate me if i said that i like you? like, you know… more than what we are right now.”

once again, hoshina froze. his breath hitched as he processed what you had asked. would you hate me if i said that i like you? your voice echoed in his head. you still refuse to face him but you know that he knows that he could see you right now. no, he wouldn’t hate you—hell, why did you think that he would hate you because of that in the first place? he would be ecstatic!

“can you face me for a minute, bub?” the pet name came off so smoothly—you were the only one he called that with. you hesitantly, roll to your other side, looking up to the man sitting on the side of your bed. you quickly avoided his gaze, but his hand pushes away your hair from your face again. “i wouldn’t hate you for that, but i’d rather not have this conversation when you’re drunk like this. so don’t forget this conversation, ‘kay? we’ll talk about it once you wake up. can you promise me to remember this, bub?”

“i promise. how could i… forget…” you trailed off. yawning in between your words before your eyes finally decided to rest themselves.

soshiro feels delighted that he has something to look forward to for tomorrow.

#( writings )#kaiju no. 8 x reader #kn8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 #kn8 #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina x reader #soshiro hoshina #x reader

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writingdungeon-inactive · 7 months ago

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SDV Bachelor domestic headcanons

MDNI

Just some headcanons, not anything nsfw but they are adults, and I hit the zaaaaa so these will be dumb, like dumb dumb

Alex:

He has full-on elbowed you when he woke up a few times. Forgive him he's not used to sleeping with someone and he likes to stretch when he wakes up.

If you have a dog he’s definitely buying one of those running leashes, the one that goes around the hips. Who will tire who out first?

Usually the dog gives out first, and he carries them back home cooing at them like they are a baby… they are

Modifies your home with Robin's help so George and Evelyn can visit

Evelyn, how did you feed this boi? He’s burning through calories

Especially after helping pick up the farm work…. Sweaty Alex… Cowboy lookin fine ass… Horny jail….

Elliott:

Journals EVERYWHERE, all of them have different ideas, title workings, and little ideas that just popped into his head.

Sits on the front porch head in hand watching you pick fruit, mumbling something like

From tiny seeds to branches high. With gentle hands, they pluck the prize.

Loves to shower with you, he just holds you helps wash your hair, and scrubs your back. Tell you how pretty/handsome you are.

Bought you both matching bathrobes

Tell me he doesn't sleep with a bonnet, look at that silky hair.

Matching silk pillowcase as well

I imagine this man is a mover in his sleep, and wakes up lookin like the Peter Griffin dead pose meme

Harvey:

The first night yall are married he cant sleep, he's just watching you. Playing with your hair giggling like he was high, he was high of how happy he was.

Has just as many self-care products if not more then Elliott, his mustache looks sculpted, you don't get that look without gel and a little mustache comb

He has a little pocket mustache comb you bought him as a joke but he loves it

Wears an apron when he cooks. Wait where did his go? Why is there a maid one in its place.... Horny Jail....

Charges you for passing out or almost dying to fund his therapy visits, you caused this farmer, look at the gray hairs.

Silver fox Harvey that's all I'm saying

Sebastian:

Good luck getting out of bed, hes like a fuckin backpack

Wakes up eyes not even open just pawing around for whatever hes trying to find.

Eyes are all bloodshot cus he was up all night working, sitting on the porch with his coffee, smoking, petting your pet

Doesn't fully wake up till about high noon

Helps out on the farm, but still does his own thing.

Stays out late with Sam and Abigail practicing for their upcoming gig, you both usually see each other returning home around one am

Momma Boi still goes to Robins for dinner every now and again

Sam:

Puppy at your heels, you go one way hes there. Forgot something? Turn around and trip over his feet

Loves living on the farm with you because now he can crank the tunes all the way up, and you can hear his speakers while you're in the field

Falls asleep anywhere, the porch, the couch, lying down in the grass with the dog/cat

If you cooked it hes eating it, he does the same for his mom

When Kent is back he babysits Vincent some nights

Speaking of, when he Vincent and Jas all get together good luck on the unsuspecting person about to get pranked.

Shane

Its law you adopt Jas, i said it, it cant be broken

Taking Jas to school, returning and helping you with the farm

He and Jas chant “Pizza,Pizza,Pizza” over and over when you ask what is for dinner

Warm, squishy, cuddly, bear hugs in the morning. Hes another backpack boi

When he's awake though, unless you are at home, light PDA

Works with Haley to learn his video camera more, its another hobby to keep him busy

First time seeing you wearing one of his shirts, the shirt is no longer on you… Horny Jail…

#sdv #stardew #stardew valley #stardew valley sebastian #stardew sebastian #sdv sam #sdv sebastian #sdv shane #sdv harvey #sdv elliott #sdv alex #shane stardew valley #stardew valley sam #stardew valley shane #stardew valley alex #stardew valley elliott #stardew valley harvey #mdni #hit the zaaa

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red-phantom-0 · 10 days ago

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Yandere Platonic Batfam x Neglected Reader pt. 3

-> continuation of these aus 🍁 , 🍁🍁 , 🍁🍁🍁🍁

- fast forward and 3 weeks have passed, and readers blissfully living out their best life.

- currently they're chilling out in their hot tub , sipping on an oreo milkshake on a casual Tuesday . They're enjoying life when they can hear some very familiar voices comming from inside their penthouse.

- cue their so called adopted siblings walking out into their patio . " Holy fuck guys they got a whole back yard out here " exclaimed Duke as he looked around eye wide .

- " they're giving Bruce some competition " Jason mumbled as he opened up reader's outdoor fridge and took a swig of their orange juice .

- reader just looks at them with a ' are you serious ' expression because like why are these people in their house ????.

- " I've seen better " complained Damian as he made himself home on one of reader's expensive plush chairs in the patio. Reader let out an offended scoff. " first off you idiots break in my house and y'all are complaining ?"

- everyone stills in their movement - they hadn't seen reader in their hot tub and was fully expected them to be at work . Reader takes a dramatic sip out of their milkshake and gives them all a death glare .

- " Get out before I tell your grandpa " reader threatens . The bat siblings look at each other confusingly . " Wait grandpa ? Do You mean Bruce?" Dick questions and reader just nods .

- " Bro Bruce is our adopted dad and yours too-" Tim says with a horrified look . Reader's eyes bulge open in disbelief . " Tch he ain't my dad because he looks like he's old and can't pull any " reader says confidently.

- bat siblings all let out a shocked gasp . " Dude Bruce literally pulls " Dick says defensively. " Yeah my father has immaculate , amazing , perfect taste in women an example would be my mother " Damian says as he propped up his feet with a confident smirk. Everyone just stares at him.

- " WHAT ?!" He exclaims defensively . " Bro your mom is like - probably one of his worst relationships " Jason says matter of factly. Damian scowls , " y'all just jealous that as the blood son I was the product of one of his best decisions "

- bat siblings all scoff and started arguing and readers just there like 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️ because they're just tryna have a good night and these idiots are ruining it .

- bored out of their mind reader slips away to put on decent clothes and goes to their kitchen to get a glass of much needed wine only to find the man of the hour sitting on one of their kitchen stools drinking their wine.

- reader has to hold themselves back from throwing him out their penthouse . " Monseiur Bruce " reader hums out as they opened their fridge .

- Bruce smiles at them " good evening my beloved daughter /son what a lovely family dinner we are having " he says with a smile . Reader shoots him a glare as they pop a cherry in their mouth . " I didn't know breaking and entering a stranger's house is considered a family dinner- well that's another charge to go along with your tax evasion " reader says nonchantly.

- Bruce's eye twitches because what do you mean reader thinks they're strangers - yeah maybe they haven't acted like family to you but that doesn't mean they couldn't start now -

- in walks in bat siblings - still debating and arguing over readers statement . Bruce raised his eyebrow at the sight , " what are you guys arguing about ?" . " Reader thought you were our grandpa and says you can't pull " tim says exhausted.

- Bruce froze - his son/daughter thought he was a grandpa - he's not - he's not that old right ?? He immediately whips over to reader . "You think I'm old ???" He asks them seriously.

- reader looks at him with a poker face , " Yeah bro, you look 67 " . Bruce then literally crumbles in his seat like a child . " Bro I think we broke him - " dick says with concern while Jason laughs hysterically. " Father why does it matter what age reader thinks you are " Damian says confused.

- Bruce just looks at them and then back at reader , " because I always thought everyone considered me fairly young " . Reader just shrugs. " You might think you're young but I'm sure your back pain screams otherwise " .

- Bat siblings just ' ooooo ' at Bruce . " They got a point Bruce " Jason pointed out, and Bruce sent him a glare . " Listen guys we came to get to know our amazing sister/brother not argue " Duke says .

- reader let out a sarcatic cough and is fustrated with everyone's bullshit . " first off like hell i wanna know you and secondly get out of my house before I throw yall out " reader threatens , throughly done because their night was ruined by some delusional family.

- everyone began arguing and begging to stay but reader threw a butter knife at dick which made the boy fall to the floor and scream . " OKAY WE WILL LEAVE " exclaimed Tim and he grabbed Dick once again and hauled everyone outside .

- reader follows them out their front door and watches them all haul into their limbo not before screaming , " AND STAY THE FUCK OUT " and slamming the door shut .

- reader leans against the door , relief washes over them and they return to the comfort of their bed and began to get ready to sleep . Reader scrolls through their socials for a while until they stumble upon a post by Bruce Wayne himself.

- ' spending quality time with the ones that matters ' and it's a post with the boys and him in their house with a picture of them scowling in the background . Reader can feel their jaw clenching in rage . The post had already one million likes in the span of only thirty minutes .

- reader then gets several notifications- it was the batfam following them on their official social accounts . Reader scowls as their inbox is practically filled with persons commenting about them and questioning them.

- reader just turns off their phone and goes to bed because that's a future them problem .

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me-loving-woso · 8 months ago

Text

The day after tomorrow

As promised here is Part 2 of Today. Tomorrow. You can find Part 1 here: Today. Tomorrow

As soon as you reached her building, you sent her a text.

**Y/n**: Are you home?

**Aitana**: Yes, I am. Why?

**Y/n:** Open the door.

You entered the building and quickly reached her door, knocking. After a few moments, she opened it, looking surprised, both at your presence and your new bald look.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to apologize," you said shyly, waiting for her to let you in. She widened the door to let you in, then closed it again. "I'm really sorry about how I treated you today. It wasn't fair to you, and I'm really sorry."

"It's okay, really," she said without much thought.

"You can be mad at me; I deserve it," you told her.

"You're going through something really tough. I get it if you want to lash out or not be vulnerable around me, even if sometimes, I'd like it if you'd let me be there for you more," she softened her gaze, showing her sincerity.

"Maybe that's the problem," you came closer to her. "Aren't you going to get tired of waiting for me?"

She was taken aback by the question, surprised at your acknowledgment of what was happening between you. The last time that happened, you were drunk.

"Well, I don't see it that way. We are already kinda acting like a couple. We cuddle, we sometimes sleep together, we are there for each other, we communicate, and we both care for each other in a way that friends wouldn't," she pointed out. Those past weeks, she had been there for you like a girlfriend would.

"Well, you can say that, but is it enough? Do you really think we could go on like this for more than another month?"

"What are you trying to say, Y/n? Do you want this to end?"

"No, no. What I'm trying to say is that I don't think I've given you a proper chance. I pushed you away multiple times because I was scared. And I really don't want to anymore."

A smile crept onto her lips as she tried to suppress it. "So you're saying—"

"Yes, Tani. 70% of relationships fail in the first year, so let's be that 30%."

"Are you sure? Like 100%? Because if you're doing it for me, you really don't have to. I'm happy being what we are currently," she rambled.

"I'm doing it for myself. So now, just shut up and kiss me.”

She gently placed her hands on your cheeks and pulled you close to her lips. The kiss was so sweet that you both couldn't properly kiss each other because you couldn't stop smiling.

"Be serious! I can't kiss you properly," you told her, giggling.

"I'm trying!" She took a breath to keep her smile from creeping in and kissed you again, this time properly.

She took her time, making sure you both fully enjoyed kissing each other for the first time. You slowly pushed her until she was seated on the couch, while you surged forward, sitting on her lap. There, she held you tight by your waist, while you had your hands on the sides of her jaw.

When you finally pulled away to breathe, you began to pepper her cheeks, jaw, and forehead with small, quick kisses, making her giggle. You wished to hear that giggle for the rest of your life if you could.

She took a closer look at you. "You have to change your beanie!" she said, taking you off guard.

"Why? You don't like it? I'm not going for a wig if that's what you're asking."

"You're bringing an Adidas product into my home! Nike is better! Wait. I'll give you one of mine." She patted your leg for you to move, then got up and left for her room.

After a couple of seconds, she quickly came back to you, sat down on the couch, and urged you to get in the same position as before.

"Can I take the beanie off?" she asked you. It was going to be a big step for you, showing this kind of vulnerability to her. You knew she knew about your illness, but it still scared you that she would look at you differently.

You lightly nodded, and she slowly took the beanie off you, leaving your bare head on display. She gently caressed the back of your head. "How is this so smooth?" she stated jokingly. You smacked her head in response.

"You're an idiot. That's the same thing Ciro said to me," you chuckled.

"Joking aside, this right here is proof that you're one hell of a fighter, Y/n. Never forget that. The hair will eventually grow back, but your spirit and your will through this tough illness will make you even stronger." She picked up her Nike beanie and gently placed it on your head. "There you go. Definitely better." She gave you a soft kiss on your forehead and gently embraced you.

"I don't know how I got so lucky with you," you said gratefully.

"I'm the lucky one, believe me."

That night, you both remained awake until 2 AM. You told her everything about you—your first girlfriend, uni life and your relationship with Ciro and your mom. You wanted her to know everything about you and why you were the way you were.

In return, she told you everything about her life, why she loved football so much, and her deepest insecurities and fears. You both listened intently, deepening the bond that you had with each other. That conversation made you fall for her even more than before.

The next morning, Aitana headed to training with a newfound happiness. The night before had left her feeling incredibly content—words couldn't quite capture the depth of her emotions. Seeing you give her a proper chance filled her with immense gratitude.

Patience wasn't her strongest suit, but for you, she would have waited for years. In her mind, the connection that she felt with you wasn’t something that you could find with the first random person. It felt unique, but maybe all the new couples felt like this when they finally get togather.

As she entered the physio room for her session with Ciro before practice, she immediately noticed his new haircut.

"Whoa, new haircut? Looks sleek and aerodynamic!" she teased lightly.

"Is it that bad?" he asked, seemingly unfazed by her teasing.

"Just because you did it, and why you did it, it's perfect. I would've done it too if Y/n let me," she remarked.

"She would never. She'd be so mad!" Ciro chuckled.

"I know, right!"

His expression softened as he asked, "Y/n didn't come home last night. You guys talked?" Aitana felt a blush creep onto her cheeks, silently confirming his question. She sat down on the physio bed, and Ciro began working on her ankle.

"Should I give you the brother-in-law talk?" he asked, turning to her seriously.

"Whoa! A little too early for that. Give us at least a week!" she exclaimed, widening her eyes.

"Joking aside, I'm glad you didn't give up on her. It might not seem like it, but you've been helping her so much," Ciro remarked.

"You keep saying that, but in reality, I'm the one who needs her, not the opposite," Aitana admitted shyly.

"You're such a suck up!" Ciro joked, prompting Aitana to playfully push him off her ankle.

"That's not true! Without her, we both would be lost! Who would keep us in line?" Aitana retorted as Ciro finished taping her ankle. "You're good to go now."

During training, Aitana couldn't wipe the smile off her face, which caught the attention of her teammates, who were accustomed to her serious demeanor.

"Why are you so smiley?" Mapi asked, coming closer to her.

"No particular reason," Aitana lied.

"Does it have something to do with the art restorer?" Mapi pressed on.

"Maybe…" Aitana couldn't suppress the smile forming on her lips.

"She'd better treat you right," Mapi said protectively.

"She is."

"So when are you going to let us meet her properly?" Patri jumped into the conversation.

"I'll talk to her about it tonight," Aitana replied, thinking of the plans you two had after your chemo treatment.

"You never hang out with us anymore!"

"I do! It's just, I've been busy with—"

"Y/n, we know. You should take her out with us," Patri suggested.

"It's not that simple. I'll talk to her about it," Aitana said vaguely, refocusing on training.

After training, Aitana quickly showered, put on some sweats, and headed to the hospital to see you. As she entered your room, she found you surrounded by some friends, mostly middle-aged women with breast cancer, gossiping about the hot doctors in the oncology department and trying to set you up with their sons.

"Who's the lucky man?" Jimena, one of the women, asked curiously.

"Jimena, I'd rather not talk about my love life with chemicals running through my veins," you replied, trying to change the subject.

"I get it. Young love!" Jimena teased before Aitana came to your rescue with snacks. As she sat next to you, Jimena and the other women left you two alone to talk.

"Thank god you saved me, Tani. All these women were trying to fix me up with their sons," you whispered, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek.

"Were there any hot, rich contenders?" she asked playfully.

"Yeah! They were all rich entrepreneurs with abs of steel. One of them I think was an Espanyol player? He looked really hot," you teased her. Aitana was momentarily taken aback, but she quickly recovered.

"What? You thought I'd profess my undying love for you and tell you that you're my one and only," you joked, poking her side teasingly.

"I play for Barça and have abs of steel," she replied childishly, trying to one-up the fake contenders you'd invented.

"You're such a child, Tani! None of these fake contenders would stand a chance with you!" you smiled, finding her playful pout endearing.

"Say that I'm your one and only," she playfully prompts.

"You are my one and only," you humor her, lightly moving your body to give a kiss on her cheek. "Today." Another kiss. "Tomorrow." Another one. "The day after tomorrow." Yet another. "And all the days after that." One final kiss seals your declaration, and you see her satisfied look with a slight blush on her cheeks. "You just wanted a cheesy confession," you shake your head, smiling. "You're one little scrounger," you pinch her nose.

"You love it," she retorts.

"I do, but I'll be waiting for a cheesy love confession too."

As soon as you were done with the treatment, you decided to take a small walk, as the doctor advised. You headed to a nearby beach, deserted in January, leaving just the two of you.

"So, the team wants to meet you, like properly," she says, slightly nervous.

"Don't I meet them at your birthday party? In like a couple of weeks," you remind her.

"Well, yeah, I didn't actually think about that," she admits shyly.

"Why are you so nervous for me to meet your friends?" you ask, then realizing. "Is it because I have can—"

"Oh, god no! Never think that, okay?" She stops on her feet, turns to you, and gets shy again. "It's the first time I'm bringing a girl to meet them. I've always focused only on football until a couple of months ago—well, I ran into you. So now they're just really curious and they want to meet you."

"I'd love to meet your friends, Tani. You met Eva, so now it's my turn to meet your teammates."

"They can be a lot," she warns you.

"I think I can deal with it. Do they know I have cancer?" you ask.

"It's not my business to say."

"You should tell them. They'll probably call you crazy since you decided to get with a cancer patient. And they would be right," you giggle.

"You call it crazy. I call it just a shift of events. In the beginning, we'll live out the hard times, then we'll have the best times of our life. I'll take you to Japan, like you always wanted to, and you'll take me to Italy, and show me all of the art you restored there," she says hopefully. "And here's the cheesy love confession: I'm not very good at math, but I'm pretty good at figuring out that we belong together." Her unexpected pickup line makes you burst out in giggles. She then turns serious. "I really believe that we work out really well together, Y/n. Today. Tomorrow. The day after tomorrow. And all the days after that, I'll still believe that. So will you be my girlfriend, officially?"

"Damn, you actually are good at cheesy love confessions," you put your arms around her shoulders and pull her in for a hard kiss. She replies with the same kind of intensity and emotion.

"So it's a yes?"

"Yes," you say excitedly, going back to kiss her.

Aitana's birthday didn't start as you hoped. It was her first day off in a long time, and you wanted her to have a wonderful day. However, your plans were interrupted around 5 AM when you felt your mouth water, a sign of what was to come.

You rushed to the toilet and emptied your stomach, a common side effect of chemo but a first-time experience for you. After quickly brushing your teeth, you returned to bed, hoping it wouldn't recur. Aitana rolled over to your side and cuddled into you.

"Good morning," she whispered with a raspy voice.

"Good morning, birthday girl. Why are you up so early?" You kissed her scalp. "Go back to sleep." She relaxed against you, or rather, on top of you.

You didn't mind; you loved her cuddliness. Your hand found its way inside her shirt, soothingly rubbing her back until she drifted back to sleep.

She properly woke at 8 AM, and with some coaxing from you, you both headed to the kitchen for breakfast.

"What's the plan for today?" she asked.

"It's your birthday; whatever you want to do," you replied.

"I just want to spend it with you," she smiled goofily.

"You're such a sweet talker," you rolled your eyes.

"Since it's my birthday, you'll have to indulge me in everything," she said excitedly. "Even the most absurd things."

"What do you want?" You handed her a cup of coffee, relishing the domestic moment.

"I want a puppy," she said eagerly.

"Tani, mi amor, mi vida, mi alma, we are not getting a puppy."

"A kitten?" she suggested.

"Even worse."

"Okay, worth a shot," she said sadly, making you giggle.

"I'll give you all the kisses and cuddles you want?" you suggested.

"I think I can be satisfied with that," she said, pulling you onto her lap. "Starting with now." You shook your head amused, wrapping your arms around her shoulders and leaning in. "So I was thinking, let's have a lazy morning, then you'll take me out to lunch at that place we love so much, then in the afternoon, we'll go to the pet store and get a puppy."

"Aitana," you warned her.

"In the afternoon… we’ll figure it out then," she said.

"I have to go to the office for a couple of minutes this afternoon," you lied. You needed to get her present—a small bracelet— at home. You also had to call your doctor about what happened that morning and whether you should be worried.

Honestly, you weren't scared to meet her teammates; what scared you most were her childhood best friends. They knew her since elementary school and were extremely protective, those were the ones you really had to impress.

After lunch, you quickly excused yourself and got to your house to get Aitana’s bracelet, and then as a way to apologize you bought her some flowers before you got back to her.

As soon as you got inside her apartment, you heard so many voices, that you never heard of. Her friends were here. Fuck. You were not ready to meet them, you subconsciously fix your beanie, and walk through the door. You are quickly met with Aitana, who meets you at the door, wanting to greet you. As soon as she saw the flowers, her smile widened.

“Hi, Tani. I wanted to apologize for not being here in the afternoon, so I bought you these.” You explained. Handing her the flowers, while she admired them.

“I love them, thank you so much.” She stands on her tippy toes to give you a kiss, which you gladly prolonged.

After a couple of seconds, she whispered, “My friends are here, they wanted to come earlier to say hi before the party. I’m sorry I should have told you.”

You swallowed hard, and tried to keep on a smile, you weren’t ready to meet them.

“Aitana? Is Y/n here?” A voice interrupted you from replying to your girlfriend.

“We are coming!” She tells him, while she takes your hand. “They are going to love you, just as much as I do.” She reassures you casually saying the last part without even realizing it. But you did.

Before she could drag you to her living room, you drag her closer to you, placing your hands on each side of her face, lightly caressing her cheeks, and give her one final lazy kiss. “Now we are ready to go.” She gives you one last reassuring smile and showed you to her friends.

“Pepe, Juan and Maria, I want you to meet Y/n.”

“So this is the girl who has been making our Aitana talk non-stop about! For a moment I thought that you were fake!” A guy offers his hand to shake. “Hi, I’m Pepe. Nice to meet you.”

“Y/n.” You shake his hand smiling. “Nice to meet you too, Pepe. I assure you, I’m very much real.”

“Good to know! Aitana’s been going on and on about you. I was starting to think she’d invented the perfect partner in her head.” The other guy Juan interjects.

“Well, I am far from perfect, your friend is the crazy one for keeping up with me!” You chuckle, smiling gratefully to Aitana

“I think you are the crazy one to keep up with her! She can be a hassle sometimes.” Pepe, teases you girlfriends, earning a death glare from her.

“Tell me about it! She’s competitive down to her bones, she never lets me win at anything!” You follow Pepe, making Aitana turn to you. “Don’t look at me like that! You got mad because I was better than you at doing my own job.” You reason.

After a couple of minutes, the teasing subsided, making Aitana little more relaxed, she hated when people teased her, something that you always did, because you found her pout to be extremely cute.

You knew that probably Aitana told them not to say anything to you about you having cancer, and even though you loved that she wanted to protect you, it wasn’t something to hide or to not talk about.

As soon as Aitana left to go to the bathroom, you turn to her friends, “I know that Aitana told you not to talk to me about my cancer. But if you have any questions you can ask.” You could see that they were surprised.

Pepe exchanged a glare with his friends, “Nah, don’t worry. We are good. I know it must be hard for the both of you. But yeah, whatever you need, we are here. My mom had cancer, so I know how it feels like.”

“Plus, I’ve always known that Aitana had somewhat of a Nightingale Syndrome!” Juan joked, making you chuckle surprised.

“Its the only possible reasoning for her to get in a relationship with me.”

“Or maybe it’s because you make me really happy and feel supported?” Aitana walk to from the bathroom and finds her place next to you wrapping an arm around you waist, waiting for you to peck her lips, which you happily oblige.

“I still think it’s the Nightingale syndrome.” You chuckle. “Let’s hope you won’t forget about me when I’ll be cancer free.”

“You should tie her down, so she’s stuck with you.” Pepe jokes.

“I can’t get you pregnant, I’ll just have to find another way.” You think.

“I hate this coalition against me. A I don’t have Nightingale syndrome. B, today is supposed to be my birthday, NOT tease Aitana day.”

“We are so sorry.” You give her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll never tease you again.” You lie. “Now if you let me, I’ll steal away Tani for a moment.” You take her hand and drag her to her bedroom, where you had her birthday gift.

“So I know, you told not to buy you anything, but I wanted to give you a little present. And no it’s not a puppy.”

You give her a little box. “So I know that you can’t have bracelets on you, because of football, so I found a knot that you can easily take off and put on.” She opens the box, it was a red string bracelet, which was thought to bring protection and luck. “I know you don’t like ostentatious stuff, so I went with something simple.”

“I love it. Thank you so much.” She hugged you tightly, filling your necks with small pecks. “I can wear bracelets, I’ll just have to cover it when I have a match. Can you put it on for me?”

You gently put it on for her, while she happily admires it.

“Is it okay? I didn’t know what to gift you.” You tell her. “You have some pretty difficult taste in stuff.” You chuckle.

“I love it, really. I’ll wear it on, so that I can have a reminder of you, whenever I’m away.” She beams.

“Always so cheesy.” You kiss her lips. “I like you really really much, you know that?” You tell her.

—

Her birthday party was set to be at her house because going out was too risky—you couldn’t afford to get sick. Despite your insistence that she do whatever she wanted, she said if it were up to her, she’d spend her birthday just with you. Everyone would be coming over at 8 PM, so you had a couple of hours to get ready.

Your whole body was aching: your joints, your head, your throat—everything. But you promised yourself that it was Aitana’s day, so you’d endure the pain for her happiness. You took some painkillers, but since you weren’t used to them, they made you drowsy.

You decided to wear something simple: jeans and one of Aitana’s shirts. You loved wearing her shirts because they smelled like her, and you loved her reaction when she saw you in them. Today was no exception.

“Comfy?” she asked, emerging from the bathroom into her room where you were changing. Even though you’d been together for over two months, you hadn’t taken the next step in your relationship. Since you started chemo, your sex drive had plummeted, and you’d stopped having periods.

Aitana never brought it up, knowing it should come from you. You appreciated that she never pressured you or made you uncomfortable, but sometimes your mind would twist things, making you think she didn’t touch you because she didn’t want to. This insecurity often resurfaced at the worst times, especially when meeting people from Aitana’s life and presenting yourself as a fragile cancer patient.

“Yes, very much, thank you,” you chuckle. She rounds the bed to get closer, wrapping you in a big hug from behind.

“It’s annoying that you look better in my clothes than I do. We should swap closets,” she says, giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek that makes you blush. “You look beautiful.” She turns you around and gives you a searing kiss, making your knees nearly give out. You open your eyes to see how she’s dressed.

“Even though I’m sure you could make a trash bag look hot, you look stunning tonight,” you reply, smiling proudly. She wasn’t wearing something that elaborate, a simple dress, but it was more than enough for her to look even more beautiful than she already was. Sometimes you couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to have a girlfriend like her.

“I didn’t overdo it, right?” she asks, sounding insecure.

“Tani, it’s your birthday. Everyone else should adjust to how you dress,” you reassure her. “Ready to go to the living room?” You offer her your hand.

She takes it but swiftly throws you onto the bed, making you squeal in surprise. She giggles and plops on top of you. Thank God for those painkillers. “No, I want to stay here with you! You’re comfy, and you promised unlimited kisses and cuddles,” she whines.

You chuckle, gently scratching her scalp. She loved head scratches.

After a while, with Aitana rambling about the upcoming weeks, she suddenly stops and looks at you seriously. You tilt your head, curious and a bit worried.

“What?”

“Can I feel it?” she asks.

“Feel what?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“The lump on your neck,” she whispers. You pat her side to make her sit up.

“I don’t think it’s the right time. I don’t want to change your mood,” you argue weakly.

“You never let me kiss or touch that side of your neck,” she says, looking down at her hands.

“Because it feels worse than it looks, and I don’t want you to freak out.”

“I want to be able to touch all of you.” You raise an eyebrow suggestively. “Okay, that sounded bad. I apologize,” she chuckles. “But you know what I mean.”

You nod, gently taking her right arm. “Are you sure?” She nods. You guide her hand to your neck. Your eyes twitch as she touches the lump.

“It feels... different than I expected,” she murmurs, her fingertips lingering on the lump, exploring it with careful curiosity. You watch her, your heart heavy, knowing she’s grappling with the reality of it.

“Yeah, it’s not just in our heads,” you say softly, trying to keep your voice steady. Her eyes meet yours, showing a mix of fear and determination.

“It’s real,” she whispers, her voice catching. “I mean, I knew it was, but feeling it... it makes it so real.”

You nod, feeling a lump forming in your throat. “Yeah. It’s real.”

“But we’ll fight this, okay?” she says, a determined spark in her eyes giving you hope. “I’ll be by your side.”

You nod, feeling the lump in your throat tighten. “Mark my words, if we get through this, I’ll be the most supportive, fun, and grateful girlfriend you deserve. You make me so happy. I just want you to have some happiness, Tani,” you say, feeling deflated.

“I don’t need anything else,” she replies, her voice soft but firm. “Your happiness is my happiness. We’re in this together. You’re stuck with me, and we’ll come out stronger on the other side. Together.”

You squeeze her hand, drawing strength from her unwavering resolve. “Together,” you echo.

She smiles, a mix of determination and love. “Every step of the way. And when this is over, we’ll take those trips to Japan and Italy we planned, and then we’ll have our happy days, cari. But for now, we take it one day at a time.”

You nod, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. “One day at a time.” You pause. “You’d tell me if it’s too much, right?”

“It’s not too much, cari.” Sensing your distress, she reassures you. “But yes, I’ll tell you if something changes.”

You give her a final hug, trying to pour all your gratitude into it. “Now, why don’t we go downstairs before one of your friends starts thinking we’re hooking up,” you say, lightening the mood as you pull away.

You head downstairs, and as you pass her friends on your way to the living room, you catch their suggestive smirks, making you blush lightly while Aitana rolls her eyes at them. You help her get everything ready and wait for the rest of the guests to arrive.

You figured her teammates knew about your cancer because when they arrived, they weren't shocked to see you without hair and visibly more tired. Aitana vividly remembered how that conversation went down.

It was three days before her birthday, and Aitana was in the changing room, telling her team about the small get-together she was planning at her home.

“If you want to come, I’m having a small party at my house for my birthday,” she said, inviting everyone. She knew most of the younger girls, except for Pina, Jana, and Bruna, probably wouldn’t show up.

“At home? Don’t you usually do it at a restaurant? Did you have trouble booking a place?” someone asked as most of the uninterested teammates left, leaving Aitana with her captains, the Norwegians, Mapi, Patri, the youngsters, and Rölfo.

“I’d rather do it at home. It’s quieter and we don’t have to overpay for drinks,” she said, making up an excuse. In reality, she knew you couldn’t risk going out to crowded places because of your condition. She preferred to spend her birthday with you.

“I think this has something to do with Y/n. Is she making you stay at home? Is she really jealous or something?” Patri asked, sounding more accusatory than curious.

“Y/n? She’s not that jealous. Why do I get the feeling you don’t like her?” Aitana asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and concern, shifting uncomfortably on her bench.

“We know she must be great, but since you got together, you never hang out with us anymore. You don’t stay after training or join us for breakfast. We’re just worried about you getting too wrapped up in the relationship,” Alexia said, her voice full of concern and care.

“She’s not making me stay home. I basically force her to hang out with me. If she knew I was skipping hangouts, she’d force me to go out with you guys,” Aitana defended your intentions, trying to make them understand you weren’t restricting her.

“Then why don’t you hang out with us anymore?” Patri pressed. “Did we do something wrong?”

Aitana sighed, feeling the weight of her friends' concerns. She knew they meant well but didn’t understand the full picture. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not about you. It’s just... Y/n has been going through a lot.” Her friends’ confused expressions spurred her on. “Y/n has cancer. And before you say anything, I knew before we got together.”

The room fell silent. Mapi’s eyes widened with shock and empathy. “Aitana, we had no idea. I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell us?”

“At first, I thought it was Y/n’s right to tell who she wanted about her cancer, but then she said it was best if you knew, since you’d probably meet her properly someday.”

Patri nodded, her skepticism replaced with concern. “We’re sorry if we made you feel judged. We just miss you and want to be there for you. How can we help?”

Aitana chuckled. “Well, unless you can find a magical cure for cancer, there’s not much you can do. But if it’s not too much to ask, just being there for us would mean the world.”

As soon as they saw you hand in hand with Aitana, two girls approached you. One was insanely tall, and the other had tattoos all over her arms.

“Hi, you must be Y/N?” the tall one said.

“Yeah, that’s me. You must be Ingrid and Mapi, right?” you asked, shaking their hands.

You noticed Mapi’s tattoos and recognized some of the designs. “I love your tattoos. Do you go to Javi?”

“Yeah! How did you know?” she looked surprised.

“We went to school together. He’s one of my best friends. I helped him out with some designs.”

“Oh, that’s awesome! He mentioned a friend helped with some designs, but I never imagined it was you,” Mapi exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “Javi is amazing. He did this sleeve for me,” she said, showing off the intricate designs on her arm. “It’s one of my favorites.”

You recognized some of your own designs. “I did the skull with the lightbulb and the squirrel!”

“Oh, that’s so cool!” Mapi said excitedly. “The skull with the lightbulb is one of my favorites. And the squirrel is such a fun piece!”

You smiled, feeling proud. “I’m really glad you like them. It’s always nice to see my work out in the world.”

Aitana turned to you with a surprised smile. “I didn’t know you could draw!”

You shrugged modestly, feeling bashful under Aitana’s gaze. “It’s just a hobby. Javi and I used to spend hours sketching together before getting busy with work.”

Ingrid looked impressed. “A hobby? You’ve got real talent. You should definitely do more with it. I know for sure that Mapi would love a few more tattoos.”

“Do you have any tattoos?” Mapi asked curiously.

You blushed lightly. “I have three.” Aitana's head snapped towards you, her eyes wide with surprise.

“What?!” she exclaimed. “I’ve never seen them.”

“Don’t act too surprised, Tani. They’re well hidden.” You turned to Mapi and Ingrid, who were waiting for you to continue. “I have one that’s a one-inch line from my favorite movie, *V for Vendetta*: The second one is a quote, and the third... well, it’s a bit more hidden. Let’s just say that.” You winked at Aitana.

You got your first two tattoos when you were 18. The first was significant to you, a permanent reminder of something important. The second was more cheeky, known only to those who’ve seen you naked and your friend Eva. It was a small outline of a heart on one of your ass cheeks. Your third tattoo was one of your favorite quotes from the painter Artemisia Gentileschi: “You will find the spirit of Caesar in this soul of a woman.”

Aitana looked like she wanted to say more, but as soon as you saw Ciro come inside, you quickly excused yourself to greet him.

“I’m going to say hi to Ciro.” You turned to Aitana, giving her a lingering kiss, not too long to draw attention. Then you turned to her teammates. “It was lovely to meet you guys. I hope we can talk more about some tattoo ideas.” You walked away, hugging your brother.

Mapi and Ingrid turned to Aitana, who was still looking at you, smiling to herself.

Ingrid chuckled at Aitana’s state, making her turn her attention to her teammates. “Sorry.” She bowed her head, her cheeks turning rosy. “You really love her, don’t you?”

Aitana’s blush deepened, and she couldn’t help but smile even wider. “Yeah, I really do,” she admitted warmly. “She’s amazing. I’m still finding out new things about her every day, and I love it. Plus, she’s so strong and fearless.” She glanced at you, laughing with your brother. “I can’t believe she’s my girl. She’s just incredible.”

“And so hot!” Mapi said without thinking, earning a death glare from her own girlfriend.

“She is! It’s so frustrating sometimes,” Aitana agreed, laughing.

Meanwhile, you were grabbing drinks with Ciro when the nausea hit again. Not wanting to make a scene, you excused yourself and headed to the bathroom to throw up. Ciro quickly noticed something was wrong and followed you.

He knocked on the door. "It's Ciro, can you let me in?"

You sighed and unlocked the door. Another wave of nausea hit, and you doubled over the toilet, trying to keep quiet. Ciro crouched next to you, rubbing your back soothingly. Once the wave passed, you leaned back against the wall, exhausted.

"Y/N, this is serious," Ciro said quietly, concern on his face. "You need to tell Aitana."

You shook your head weakly. "Not tonight, Ciro. It's her birthday party. I don't want to ruin it."

"How long has this been going on?" he asked, continuing to rub your back.

"Since this morning. I took a painkiller because all my joints are killing me. Why did it have to be today?" You looked up at the ceiling, exasperated.

Ciro sighed deeply. "Y/N, you can't keep pushing yourself like this. You need to take care of yourself, even if it means taking a step back tonight."

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. "I know, Ciro. But I just want Aitana to have a perfect night. She's been looking forward to this for so long."

Ciro gave you a sympathetic look. "I get it. But she loves you and would want you to be okay more than anything else. Let's get you through tonight, and then you need to rest. Promise me."

"Okay," you agreed reluctantly. "I promise."

Ciro helped you to your feet, and you steadied yourself before brushing your teeth. You tried to put on a brave face, but the exhaustion and nausea were hard to hide.

As you reentered the party, Aitana immediately noticed something was off. She walked over, concern on her face. "Hey, are you sure you're okay? You don't look well."

You gave her a reassuring smile, even though you felt far from it. "I'm okay, just a bit tired. Don't worry about me, let's enjoy your party."

You went to the kitchen for some water and then stepped outside for fresh air. Ciro followed, keeping an eye on you.

Outside, you lit a cigarette, something you hadn't done in years, and slowly inhaled, feeling a calming effect. You knew it was wrong, but you needed some relief.

“You must be the art restorer?” one of Aitana’s teammates asked.

You turned to her. “That’s me.”

“I’m Alexia.”

"Tani’s team captain. I’ve heard about you… Please don’t tell her I smoke. It’s my first in years."

“Do you have another one?” she asked, surprising you with the request.

You hesitated before handing her the pack. Alexia took one and lit it, taking a slow drag before exhaling. The two of you stood in silence for a moment, the cool night air providing some relief.

"Thanks," Alexia said softly. "I won't tell Aitana. We all have our vices."

You nodded, taking another drag. "Yeah, we do."

Alexia studied you for a moment. "So, how long have you been an art restorer?"

You smiled, grateful for the distraction. "About six years now. It's my passion, bringing old pieces back to life."

She nodded appreciatively. "That's really cool. Aitana talks about you all the time. It's obvious how much she cares about you."

Your heart ached at her words. "I care about her too. More than anything."

Alexia smiled, taking another drag. "It's great to see. She's special, and she deserves someone who loves her as much as you do."

You nodded, feeling the weight of your secret pressing on you. The night air, mixed with the cigarette smoke, made you slightly dizzy, but you steadied yourself. "Thanks, Alexia. That means a lot coming from you."

The two of you stood in comfortable silence for a while, just taking in the night and the muffled sounds of the party inside.

"So, what brought you out here, really?" Alexia asked, breaking the silence. "You don't seem like the type to sneak out for a smoke."

You hesitated, the truth bubbling up inside you. "I hate meeting new people. I have to charge my social battery." You chuckled.

“Tell me about it. I have to endure hours of media every week.”

You both finished your cigarettes. Alexia handed you a mint chewing gum, and the two of you headed back inside.

Everyone was mingling in small groups. You were about to speak when you felt a body collide with yours in a hug.

“Damn, Tani, you still have energy at 11 PM!” You chuckled, pulling her into a tight hug.

She shrugged. “I was searching for you everywhere. I missed you!”

“I was with Alexia, getting some fresh air, Tani,” you reassured her. You could see in her eyes that she wanted some attention, so you quickly said your goodbyes to Alexia and focused on the birthday girl.

She took your hand and led you to the living room, where some friends were chatting. She sat down on the couch and pulled you onto her lap, circling her arms around your waist.

"You know, I think I missed you more," you teased, leaning in to kiss her softly.

Aitana laughed, her eyes twinkling. "That's impossible. But I'll let you think that."

The warmth of her embrace and the lively chatter around you made it easier to forget about everything else for a moment. You nestled into her, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against your back.

The room was filled with laughter and light, and for a while, you allowed yourself to relax and enjoy the festivities.

“So, tell me more about this art restoration,” Fridolina, one of Aitana’s friends, piped up. “I’ve always been fascinated by that kind of work.”

You smiled, grateful for the distraction. “It’s incredibly rewarding. There’s something magical about bringing old, forgotten pieces back to life.”

“That sounds amazing,” Ingrid chimed in, her eyes wide with interest. “Do you have a favorite piece you’ve worked on?”

You thought for a moment. “There was this old Renaissance painting that came into the studio a few years ago. It was in terrible shape, covered in grime and with a lot of damage. It was from Artemisia Gentileschi, a very particular painter. She was one of the few female artists of her time, and her works are incredibly powerful and brutal. Restoring her painting felt like reviving a piece of her story.”

Aitana’s friends listened intently, clearly captivated by your passion. Aitana squeezed your hand, her pride in you evident.

"Which painting was it?" Fridolina asked, leaning forward with interest.

"It was 'Judith Slaying Holofernes.' The details, the intensity in Judith’s expression, and the dramatic use of light and shadow—it’s breathtaking. Bringing that piece back to its original glory was one of the most fulfilling experiences of my career."

"Wow," Ingrid said, visibly impressed. "It must be amazing to see the transformation up close."

"It is," you agreed. "There’s something almost intimate about it, like connecting with the artist across centuries."

The conversation flowed easily, with Aitana’s friends asking more questions about your work and sharing their own interests. The night wore on, filled with laughter and joy.

As the party began to wind down and the majority of the guests left, you found a quiet moment with Aitana on the balcony. The city lights illuminated the ambient below, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves around you.

“Thank you for tonight. I know you were feeling sick and kept going for me. Next time, please don’t do it.”

You gave her a reassuring smile, taking her hands in yours. “I wanted to be here for you, Tani. You mean the world to me. But I promise, I’ll take better care of myself. I won’t push it next time.”

She sighed, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I just worry about you. I want you to be okay.”

“I know, and I appreciate it,” you said, kissing the top of her head. “I’ll be more careful. I don’t want to worry you.”

Aitana looked up at you, her eyes filled with love and concern. “I just don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” you whispered, pulling her into a tight embrace. “We’ll get through this together, I promise.”

The two of you stood there for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, finding solace in the quiet night and the love you shared. Despite the challenges ahead, you felt a renewed sense of strength and determination, knowing that you had Aitana by your side.

After a few moments, Aitana pulled back slightly and looked into your eyes. “Let’s go inside and get some rest. You need it.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

As you walked back into the apartment, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for Aitana and the love you shared. It gave you the strength to face whatever lay ahead, knowing that together, you could overcome anything.

You both went to the bedroom and got ready to sleep. You wore one of Aitana’s joggers and a shirt you brought for the sleepover. Aitana came out from the bathroom after getting into her sleepwear and sat on the bed, taking off her earrings.

After a couple of minutes, she turned to you, seeing you already sitting on the bed, setting your alarm clock. She rolled over to you with a waiting gaze, clearly wanting to ask you something.

“What?”

“You could have told me that you had three tattoos.” She pouted slightly.

“Well, you never asked.” You smirked playfully.

“Now I’m asking. Can I see them?”

You hesitated. Your first tattoo, the line, was right under your breast, the second one was on your side, and the third... you definitely wanted to wait for her to see it.

You were nervous about showing her your body, as she had never seen you without a shirt on. The changes from cancer and seeing Aitana’s teammates tonight had made you feel inadequate.

Aitana noticed your hesitation, her expression softening. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to show me if you’re not comfortable,” she said gently, reaching out to take your hand.

You took a deep breath, deciding to take a step forward in vulnerability. “It’s not that I don’t want to show you… it’s just, you’ve never seen me without a shirt, so I guess I’m a little bit scared?” You tried to be honest with her.

Aitana’s eyes widened in surprise and concern. “Why would you be scared? I think you are beautiful, both in and out.”

You looked down, feeling a lump in your throat. “My body… it’s changed a lot because of the cancer. I don’t look the same as I used to, and seeing your teammates tonight just made me feel… inadequate.”

Aitana’s grip on your hand tightened, and she pulled you into a hug. “Y/N, you’re beautiful to me. You’ve been through so much, and I admire your strength. I don’t care about how your body looks; I care about you, the person I fell in love with.”

Her words were like a balm to your anxious mind. You took another deep breath and decided to trust her completely. “Okay. I’ll show you.”

You raised your shirt, stopping just before your breast, showing her the first tattoo. She lightly traced the ink with adoration.

“The second one is on the side, it’s a quote.” You revealed it. “Troverete lo spirito di Cesare in questa anima di donna.” You repeated the quote. “Which means: You will find the spirit of Caesar in this soul of a woman.” She lightly caressed your side where the quote showed.

“They are all beautiful. Damn, I didn’t think you’d be someone who had tattoos.”

“I guess you don’t know everything about me then.”

“What about your third?”

“Well, that one I got on a whim. Not many people have seen it.” You smirked suggestively.

“Well, now I’m curious.” She was intrigued.

“I won’t show it to you now if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Okay, okay, I respect that. I am a very patient woman; I’ll wait. Can you just tell me where it is?” She pleaded curiously.

“I’ll tell you this, the only people who have seen it are Eva, because I was with her when I got it, and the people who have seen me naked.”

Aitana's eyes widened with curiosity and a hint of playfulness. "Well, now you have me even more intrigued," she said, chuckling. "But I can wait. It’ll make it all the more special when I do see it."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at her words. Her understanding and patience were just a few of the many reasons you loved her so much. "I promise you’ll see it when the time is right," you said softly.

Aitana leaned in and kissed you gently. "I look forward to it. Thank you for sharing this with me tonight. It means a lot.”

As you both settled into bed, you positioned yourself on top of her to give her one final kiss. “Good night, Tani. I hope you had fun tonight.” You rolled over to your side, getting into a comfy position to sleep, while your girlfriend was already half asleep.

She replied lazily and almost unconsciously. “I had fun, good night Cari. I love you.” You widened your eyes as a smile crept on your cheeks.

Three months into your relationship, you couldn’t be happier. Your cancer was receding, and you were nearly finished with your fifth cycle of chemo before discussing the next steps with your doctor.

Three days before Aitana was set to leave for Bilbao for the Copa de la Reina semi-final, you visited the doctor’s office. Ciro took a day off work to accompany you. Your oncologist, who was serious but supportive, greeted you.

“So, Y/N, I have good news and bad news.” Your heart skipped a beat. “Good news: your cancer is receding. The treatment is going great, and I think we should operate, perform a thyroidectomy as soon as possible. Thursday would be ideal.”

You sighed in relief, almost at the end of this ordeal.

“The bad news is the position of the cancer. We might be able to remove it completely, but there are risks. Your cancer is very close to your vocal cords. You might lose your voice.”

You had never considered that possibility. “What’s the probability it might go wrong?” you asked fearfully.

“30%. I know it’s a significant risk, but it’s the best solution. We can fully remove it. No more chemo, no more suffering.” Seeing your hesitation, he added, “I won’t ask you to decide right now. Take some hours to think about it. But the sooner we act, the better.”

Your doctor left the room to give you some privacy.

You turned to Ciro. “I don’t think there’s any real choice, is there?”

“No, there isn’t, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”

After informing your doctor that you agreed to the operation, you headed home, while Ciro had to return to work for training.

Thirty minutes later, you heard a knock on your door. Knowing it was probably Aitana, you opened it to find her holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers that hid her face. She peeked out, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Surprise!” she said, handing you the flowers.

You hugged her. “You really know how to make a girl swoon, Tani.”

“Only for you.” You took the flowers and kissed her in gratitude.

You led her inside and prepared a snack for both of you. She sat on the couch, waiting. As you sat down next to her, she leaned in for another kiss. “What was that for?” you asked.

“Can’t I kiss my beautiful girlfriend?”

“Anytime you like.”

“How was the doctor’s appointment?” she asked as you cuddled up.

You sat up. “The treatment is working, and they want to operate. My cancer is receding, and it might go away completely with the operation.” Your tone wasn’t as optimistic as your words.

She sensed there was more. “That’s great! But why do you look so worried? Is there a but?”

“Two. First, the surgery is on Thursday during the Copa de la Reina semi-final. And before you say anything, no, I won’t let you skip it. You’ve already missed two matches because of me, without even telling me.”

“And the other?” she asked, defeated.

“I might lose my voice.”

Aitana’s eyes widened with concern. “But if it’s your best shot at beating cancer, wouldn’t you take it?”

“I’ve already agreed, Aitana. But that’s not the point. Promise me something?”

“Anything,” she said seriously.

"You'll leave me if I lose my voice, okay?"

She blinked, taken aback. "What?"

"I don’t want you to be with someone you have to constantly take care of. You deserve so much better."

"No, no, no," she said, shaking her head and taking your hands. "You can’t ask me that. I won’t leave you. You’re stuck with me, okay?"

You chuckled, feeling a lump in your throat. "I’m doing this for you. This is an out. Why can’t you take it?"

"Because I don’t want to!" she said, almost angrily. "Don’t push me away, please."

"I’m not pushing you away. I’m doing this for you. You deserve better. You deserve someone who can give you everything. And right now, I can’t. For god’s sake, we’ve been together for five months, and I can’t even take my shirt off in front of you!" you reasoned, your frustration mounting.

She looked shocked, almost taken aback. "Is... Is this about sex?"

You hid your face in your palms. "No... I mean... I don’t know," you stuttered.

"No. No, Cari, sex has never been an issue for me. You’re going through cancer; it’s normal that you don’t want to have sex."

"I know, but what about your needs?"

"My needs? I’ve waited eighteen years of my life without sex. I can deal with waiting for a while," she reassured you. "Plus, the wait will make it even better!"

"You know, I’d get it if you wanted to find someone else to be physical with. I wouldn’t blame you."

"And kiss someone else? Touch someone else? Make someone else feel good? Never," she reassured you. "You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. You make me so happy. Why would I jeopardize that for some fleeting pleasure?"

"You always say that I’m beautiful. But... Do you find me hot?" you almost whispered the last part.

Aitana's expression softened, and she cupped your face gently, her thumb tracing your cheek.

"Y/N, you are the most gorgeous person I know. You’re beautiful, inside and out. And yes, I find you incredibly hot."

You still looked unconvinced, so she quickly made you sit on her lap and unzipped her hoodie, remaining in her shirt. She took your hand and guided it inside her shirt next to her heart. It was beating fast.

"Do you feel it? This is what you do to me. Whenever you sit on my lap or nibble that part of my ear that you know is so sensitive, you make my heart race out of proportion. And so fucking wet that it hurts sometimes." You chuckled, feeling her heart pounding. "Don’t ever doubt my attraction or my loyalty towards you," she told you firmly, making you believe her. You nodded. "And don’t you dare think for even a minute that I’ll leave you if you lose your voice. We’re in this together, and we’ll find a solution together," she said resolutely.

On Wednesday, the day before the game, Aitana brought you to the hospital and helped you check in.

You sat on the hospital bed, waiting for your doctor. "I’ll be here as soon as the game finishes, okay? Tell Ciro to send me updates, or else I’ll kill him." She kissed your temple and was about to leave when you took her hand to stop her.

"I want to tell you something. Maybe tomorrow I won’t be able to. I know I’ve never said it; I’ve always waited."

"You’ll tell me when I get back."

"No, please, Tani, let me say it. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t tell you right now." She nodded. "I love you, Aitana Bonmatí. Today, tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and all the days after that."

"I love you too, Cari." She rubbed her nose against yours and kissed you on the lips.

"Go and beat Athletic’s club ass, okay?”

Needless to say, until she saw you again, Aitana couldn’t keep her mind off you. Her teammates noticed she wasn't focused on the game, and Mapi pulled her aside during the warm-up.

"Hey, Aitana, are you okay?" Fridolina asked, concern evident in her voice.

Aitana sighed, running a hand through her hair. "No, not really. Y/N is having surgery right now, and I can't stop thinking about it. I'm worried."

Frido placed a comforting hand on Aitana's shoulder. "I get it, but you have to try and focus on the game for now. She'd want you to give it your all out there. Besides, we're all here for you. If you need anything, just let us know."

Aitana nodded, taking a deep breath. "Thanks, Frido. I'll try my best."

As the game progressed, Aitana pushed herself to concentrate, channeling her anxiety into her performance. Every time she made a play, she thought of you, imagining how proud you'd be. Despite the distraction, she played one of her best games, driven by the desire to make you proud.

When the final whistle blew, Barcelona had secured a resounding victory. Aitana immediately checked her phone, finding a message from Ciro: “Surgery is done. We don’t know anything right now.”

Fear washed over her, and her hands started to tremble as her mind filled with what-ifs. She looked down at the bracelet you had gifted her, seeking comfort. She couldn’t lose you. Most importantly, she needed to get back to you.

She got on the first plane and left for Barcelona.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati x reader #alexia putellas #woso one shot #ona batlle

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yesimwriting · 10 months ago

Note

When best friend Felix and reader kiss (not a kiss on the cheek or forehead) does reader ever initiate it? I kind of notices it usually Felix who does.

yes!! i just see felix as so touchy he'd kiss reader more out of instinct, but reader for sure kisses felix

----

The washcloth is pressed against you temple. The fabric is dragged downwards, creating a damp trail from the spot above your left eyebrow to your chin.

Felix's expression pinches in concentration. He pulls the washcloth away from your face to examine the other side. His frown tells you all you need to know. "It's not coming off, is it?"

His lips part, and you mentally prepare yourself for the instinctual, teasing protests you're used to. "...Kind of," he admits slowly, his other hand moving to hold your chin. Felix is careful as he angles your head so that it's easier to examine his handiwork. "It's smudged."

He refocuses, the unmarked part of the towel finding a place near your jaw. You have to give him credit for even thinking of the makeup there. "Told you, it's not as quick and easy as it looks."

"And I told you," Felix counters, towel dipping beneath your chin, "I've got this."

There's such a heavy sense of determination in his voice, it's hard to not give into the fit of giggles attempting to crawl its way up your throat. This started as a joke, Felix insisting you could sit with him for five more minutes and you arguing that you needed to wash product off your face before the post-party sleepiness could kick in.

You grin, a small laugh slipping past your lips. Felix pauses, the cloth temporarily leaving your skin. "Lovie."

Another laugh. "What?"

"Hold still."

You can't remember a time in which washing your face relied so extensively on total stillness. Instead of pointing this out, you smile. "I am."

Felix frowns, fixing you with a look of such reprimanding disbelief you have to bite your tongue to keep from laughing again. You extend your arms, hands settling against his arms. "See?" Things feel a little less funny as his eyes meet yours. You swallow, chin raising a fraction of an inch. "Perfectly still."

He presses his lips lips together. There's something about his expression that you're not fully grasping. The awareness that you're missing something doesn't feel right. You focus on the set of his brow, on the look behind his eyes, on the way that his head angles itself forward so that he somehow feels even closer.

He moves slowly, lifting the rag to dab at the space beneath your eye. The unflinching care in his touch makes everything feel a little hazy. "Look up." It's instinct to listen. Felix drags the washcloth near your waterline. He's careful, taking his time in removing any remaining makeup. "Okay, y'can look down again."

Your eyes begin to flit downwards, but before they can land on something neutral, your eyes lock on Felix again. His eyebrows are still drawn together, his lips are now set in what almost feels like a pout. "Lex?"

The washcloth is dabbed against your forehead. "Hm?"

You're not sure where the overwhelming urge to be closer to him is coming from, you just know you're in no place to fight against it. "I'm going to move."

Instead of asking for a clarification or jokingly complaining about your warning, he moves the washcloth away from your skin. Felix rests his forearm against your shoulder, patiently waiting for you to follow through.

Before you can overthink, you shift onto your toes, leaning upwards until your lips are against his. Felix reciprocates immediately, his arm moving to press against your back. His free hand finds a place against the back of your head. You link your fingers behind his neck.

You drag your tongue against his bottom lip, savoring the faint taste of alcohol blending with something familiar and sweet. The result of the way drinking amplifies his hard candy addiction.

Felix leans closer, his weight pressing against you. It's instinct to take a partial step back to accommodate him. Your side hits something firm. The bathroom counter. His hands find your side, helping you lift yourself onto the counter. He takes a step forward, slotting himself between your legs.

When the need for air becomes dizzying, you pull back. Felix doesn't let you get far, turning his head to brush his lips against the corner of your mouth and then your cheek. Again and again until he eventually pulls away enough to rest his forehead against yours.

For a moment, there's only the sound of uneven breathing, and then Felix straightens enough to look at you. "What was--what was that for?"

You don't have an answer. At the very least, you don't have a coherent one. He was there and making you happy in that unjustifiably giddy way he does and somehow still so pretty beneath the harsh fluorescents of a dorm room bathroom. You wanted to, and knowing that Felix would reciprocate turned the offhanded desire into a need.

You shrug, ignoring the heat making its way up your neck. "You're very good at makeup removal."

Felix's hand finds your knee, thumb gently brushing against your skin. "Really? I've never done this before." His hand shifts upwards slightly, fingers squeezing the start of your thigh. "Must be a natural talent."

It'd be easy to point out the fact that he managed to lose the washcloth and that you're sure you look more like a raccoon than someone without makeup, but you're too content to bring those things up. You smile, settling on an only somewhat sarcastic, "Clearly."

His eyes narrow, a grin desperately trying to be anything else tugging at his lips. "No need for that tone."

"What?" Your voice comes out at a suspicious pitch. "You're doing a good job..." You trail off beneath Felix's steady stare. "...And I have to wash my face after anyway, so as long you're having fun."

Felix halfheartedly glares. "I'm doing all of it."

His resolve makes you laugh. Maybe he's tipsier than you thought. "You're going to wash my face?"

"Don't laugh." The sentence is followed by a huff of air that comes dangerously close to violating his own instructions.

You press your lips together in an attempt to seem serious, even here's a good chance Felix can see right through that. "Sorry." You decide, then, that you don't mind the thought of Felix attempting to complete your skin care routine for you. It's worth it. "You can wash my face."

Felix watches you skeptically, unaccustomed to your lack of arguing. "Okay," he says, straightening slightly, "Good."

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny @lilyrachelcassidy @khxna @imbabycowboy

#bestfriend!felix #bestfriend!felix x reader #saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #felix catton #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi

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butmakeitgayblog · 7 days ago

Note

touch starved

Poor babygirl is going through some things 😔

Medusa sneak peek 👀

~~~~~~◇~~~~~~◇~~~~~~◇~~~~~~◇~~~~~~

“You really should let me repay your kindness.”

Lexa takes a pull from her bottle and frowns at the quiet statement that seemed to spring up from nowhere. “But. You don't need to do that. That's not why I…”

“I know,” Clarke says kindly when Lexa fails to find any more words. “But I'd like to. You've done so much for me these past weeks and I just… I want to return some of it, I suppose.”

Lexa takes a deeper sip and shakes her head and lets the world spin.

“How would—What would you even suggest?”

"Well…” She ponders for a moment, then wets her lips and shifts herself to face Lexa more fully. “Can I ask you something?"

"In doing so, you've proven you can."

"'Mockery is not the product of a strong mind'," Clarke says in a horrendously nasal rendition of what Lexa supposes is meant to be herself. "Alright then, Socrates, may I ask something of you?"

Lexa tosses another handful of kindling onto the fire. "Depends on what it is.”

Several beats of silence pass as Clarke adjusts in her spot, the shadow of the flames flickering across her face and sending it half into shadow. Her lips twist and pull to one side as she seems to contemplate her words, until finally she says in a rush,

"Can I braid your hair?"

Lexa's hands still in her lap as a wave of goosebumps erupts over her skin, her gaze never wavering from the moonlight and flame-brightened side of Clarke's face.

She blinks.

"I—... What?"

"Can I braid your hair? Or, may I braid your hair. However you want me to put it."

"No it's not that," Lexa jumps in as her face pulls into a deeper frown, ignoring the sudden wave of chaotic wriggling across her scalp. "I meant… I don't– Clarke, I don't have—"

Clarke waves her off with a laugh. "Obviously, I'm aware. But it sounds too odd saying 'Can I braid your snakes.' Believe me I've run through every possibility in my mind, and just calling it your hair is the easiest."

Lexa shifts uncomfortably in place at the thought of Clarke practicing asking her this.

Of thinking of even doing this in her idle moments of thought.

Of touching her like this…

Her skin prickles and hands curl in on themselves, making fingernails digging half-moons into her palms.

"Why would you want to do such a thing?" she asks.

Small.

Quiet.

Clarke smiles across the flames. "Because I assumed you'd like it. Who doesn't enjoy having their hair braided?"

Lexa keeps her eyes trained on the fire and resists the impulse to drift her fingers over her head; that old instinct to drag her nails through curls that haven't been there in so many years. It's strange to explain it she realizes, absurd even in her own mind, but though she has lived practically an entire lifetime with her curse, her body still remembers how it was.

How it should be…

A wiggle across her scalp sends a faint shiver down her spine, the odd sensation that she's spent so much time growing accustomed to only made more acute with the conversation at hand.

"Why would you even want to touch them?" she asks in barely a whisper, giving voice to the feeling that sits heavy in her chest like a stone. "Does the idea alone not revolt you?"

Clarke clicks her tongue. "Why would it revolt me? They're only snakes."

"My point entirely."

"A snake is not revolting. Or loathsome, or anything of the sort. And besides." She hears Clarke hesitate. "...They're a piece of you. Just like any other…"

~~~~~~◇~~~~~~◇~~~~~~◇~~~~~~◇~~~~~~

#lonelyandsstuff #medusa au #coming soon to an AO3 tab near you

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maxwell-grant · 2 months ago

Note

I'm seeing several popular react to the Penguin show with "God I wanna see Batman kick his ass in the next movie". Which, for a show about a Batman villain, is probably an indication of succeess

Are you kidding me it fucking rules, there's no "probably" here, the show couldn't possibly have achieved what it set out to do harder.

I've talked with people, as Episode 7 was coming out, that they've managed to strike this perfect balance between making Oz the fun engaging protagonist to watch, and making him a villain that we'll want to face justice, opposite Sofia who tread the line between his Batman Villain arch-nemesis as well as the closest the show has to a hero. The camera loves her, the costume designers and hair stylists love her, the showrunner calls her the hero of the show, production folks who go on the podcast talk about how she was their favorite character to work on, while Oz, the protagonist, only grew darker and more despised and more fucked-up as the weeks passed, as we sit through 8 hours chipping away at all of his fun and charm and wacko comedy antics and motivations and all the scruples and principles that he turns out to have less and less of, that become less and less useful to him, until he butchers them all in the very end along with the heart of the show.

As I saw it around week 6, by the time this thing was over, Sofia would demand to be received with tragic applause and heartbreak and whooping cheers and love, but Oswald would have the children of the world booing and hissing and throwing eggs and tomatoes at him, and then asking him to come back so they can do it again. AND I WAS RIGHT, and also I WILDLY underestimated the degree to which that would be warranted, and I certainly didn't expect that, for the first time in my life, I would be unconditionally and enthusiastically on the same side as everyone who posted that Arkham scene, where Batman picks up Penguin and smashes him against a mirror, as something Battison has to do in the next movie. I couldn't believe what a stab to the heart that last episode was.

I'l get into the specifics of why this worked more on the Episode 8 breakdown and, granted, it's a lot to conciliate still, it's genuinely a strange feeling to be onboard with everyone else who wants Penguin to be flattened and crushed and humiliated, to truly hate him as a loathsome monster for the first time ever even as I love him in so many new fucked-up ways. This is, make no mistake, the good version of the Joker's Asylum one-off, Pain and Prejudice, Bullies, all those modern stories that are ultimately about nothing more than reminding you of a super-duper serious evil bastard this funny little man is, stories I generally just find too dumb and reductive and ugly and tasteless and trying so very damn hard to be scary without working for it. This was Lauren LeFranc slam dunking everyone who's picked up this character since Jason Aaron in 2007, including Jason Aaron himself, and wherever they take him in the next movie, or if they can justify another season of this, they've fully set him up more than ever as a guy we will want to be exploded by the Batmobile, that he not only fully deserves it, but must, be defeated for good.

Beyond impressed, don't think I could have ever anticipated how much I wanted this.

#replies tag #dc comics #batman #penguin #the penguin #the penguin hbo

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ihavethedreamies · 1 year ago

Text

Clingy | Chenle

Zhong Chenle - NCT Dream

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5.6k

Pairing: Chenle x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Established Relationship

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Slight Age Difference (Like 2 years), He calls the reader Noona, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! She has an IUD), First Time

Author's Note: I cannot begin to express how much I love a Lele, and for so long he was my precious baby boy but then he got, like, really hot, so here, have this.

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

"Noona!" You heard him call out to you. You always did, he is quite loud. However, you already knew it was him because you heard him key in the code to your door and the following beep when it unlocked. You were busy cleaning the bathroom, night was the best time to clean. Being a night owl, you had more energy and then you could go straight to bed when you subsequently exhausted yourself from cleaning. Ringing out the magic sponge you were using, you dried your hands on a towel and went down the hall to find him in the living room.

"You're here!" You smiled and he hadn't even taken his mask off yet and was still in his coat. Since he didn't live at the dorm anyway, he would come straight to your place instead of going right home. He practically lived with you at this point.

"You tired, precious?" You asked and he nodded, whining a yes. He then lifted his arms like a child wanting to be picked up, so you go stand in front of him. The low height of the couch let him lean forward for a hug, he rested his head on your stomach. Preferring to either be fully clothed or not, you were still in your day clothes. That way, when you got all sweaty you could just take a shower, put on your PJs (a tank and panties), and go to bed. While your day clothes were a sweatshirt and jeans, still comfy, Chenle always wondered why you didn't change right away upon getting home. You told him you lost all motivation to do anything productive the minute you changed clothes, so you just didn't. You even still had your shoes on, a big no-no in Korea, but your feet hurt running around cleaning without them on. Plus, it was your apartment so you could do whatever you wanted! In reality you had sneakers you only wore at home to clean, but most people still thought it was at the least weird and at the most, offensive.

Just when you thought he was going to fall asleep like that, he pulled away to look up at you like a puppy. Reaching up you pull the strings of his mask off his ears and take the black accessory off. Letting it fall next to him on the couch, you smiled upon seeing his cute face. That sweet smile he only showed you stretched across his face, and you cooed.

"You're so stinking cute." you complimented him, and he giggled.

"Are you hungry?"

"Starving. I'm so hungry Noona." He whined and you grabbed him by the collar as he moved to flop onto the couch.

"Take your coat off first." You nagged and drug him back to sitting up and get the parka off, then let him flop back onto the cushions. Grabbing the remote from the side table, you turned the TV on and then handed him the device.

"What do you want to eat?"

You. He thought to himself but didn't say it. He was feeling extra needy but wasn't sure how to approach you about it. You had done plenty for him in the past, but that was it. He wasn't pushy, but he wanted to treat you good too. If you weren't ready to go all the way, that was fine…

"You have the ramen I like still?" He finally called out as you entered the kitchen after hanging his coat.

"Yes. Is that really all you want?" You asked, willing to make him something else.

"Yeah." You shrugged to yourself and got to work on it. He really just wanted something fast so you could be done and cuddle him. You ate pretty consistently at the same time when you were at home and had thus eaten a few hours before. As you made his supper, you snacked on some grapes. You had to be careful with how many you ate, fruit was more expensive in Korea than where you were from, so you tried to limit yourself to make it last longer. Once it was done, you went back to the living room to set the table back down you had rested against the wall to clean the floor. He was draped over the couch, one arm dangling off the side and the opposite leg resting on the back of the couch. You huffed a laugh and went back to retrieve the ramen pot. Putting a hot pad down, you then set down the pot and handed him the chopsticks. Going to clean up, he whined out, "where are you going?"

"I have to clean up, it'll take a sec I just have to throw somethings out." You promised and made sure to discard the wrappers and made sure no seasoning powder was on the counter. He whined again when you didn't come straight in, going around the apartment to shut off lights you left on. Once that was all done you finally went to sit with him.

"No, behind me." He scooched forward when you tried to sit at the table with him and tilting your head curiously you do as he requested. Immediately, once you were down, he scooted back and dragged the table with him, placing himself between your legs. You smiled as his head tilted to rest on your left leg and you pet his hair as he did that. He had already managed to eat more than half of the noodles by then and he only continued when you prompted. He wanted to cuddle more than eat but he wasn't going to put your effort to waste. Chenle knew you enjoyed cooking, especially for other people, but he wanted something fast so he could have you sooner. When he was done, you tried to get up to clean up and he gave you a stern, "no," then did it himself. It wasn't that he wasn't helpful, but he got up so quickly. You lowkey didn't trust him to clean it right, you were just that way with everyone, but he knew you pretty well. You were very particular about washing the bottom of the pot just as well as the rest of it and you even used a specific soap for the pots and pans, different than everything else. When Chenle came back in, he went to the lamp and turned it on so he could shut off the bright overhead light. As he came back to the couch to join you, you stood up.

"I'm going to shower so I can change." You told him, not having cleaned everything yet but you could tell he wanted to be with you.

"Wait." He grabbed your hand and pulled you back to him. When you didn't catch his hint, he pulled you again. You landed on his lap with a yelp, and he further manhandled you till you straddled him.

"Lele?" You were slightly shocked by your boyfriend’s forwardness. It didn't bother you, not at all, but it was still surprising. Neither of you could really be considered dominant in the relationship, so to see him being a bit more forceful was…hot. Wrapping his arms around you, you relaxed further onto his lap, and he rested his head on your chest.

"This better?" You smiled, hugging him back and kissing the top of his head.

"Could be even better…" He mumbled and you furrowed your brow. Before you could ask for clarification, he pulled back to look at you. Suddenly, he spread his legs and you fell between them onto your butt with an, "oof." Your legs were still over his so the position was slightly uncomfortable but now you were eye level. Then, your boyfriend was just staring at you intently, looking at each part of your face.

"W-what?"

"You're just pretty." His face softened into a smile, and you scoffed.

"Okay." You conceded and he sneered.

"You are!"

"Okay!" You aren't convinced. Partially, you think there is something else going on too, but…You weren't self-deprecating, you didn't think you were ugly, just average. Nothing to write home about.

"You don't think so?" He pouted and you shrugged.

"Noona!"

"What?"

"You’re so pretty. To me, you are the prettiest girl, that's all that should matter. You're my pretty girl!" He insisted and he wasn't whining or pouting, he sounded a little upset. Like, angry upset. It took you aback. After the shock melted from your face, you smiled genuinely and brought your hands up to stroke his cheeks.

"Thank you, Lele. I can be your pretty girl." You gave him a small kiss and it flared something in him. It wasn't enough. When you pulled back, his arms wrapped around you, and he slammed his mouth back to yours. You gasped at his forcefulness as his hand rested on your back between your shoulders. His other hand went to your butt so he could readjust you on his lap. Back to a more comfortable position, you sighed, and he took advantage of this, his tongue invading your mouth. The hand on your back stayed there, the other one going to the hem of your sweatshirt and slipped under it. He grunted in annoyance pulling away, a trail of saliva connecting you.

"I hate that you wear these high-waisted jeans." He grumbled and you're gaping, face growing hot.

"A-are you okay?" You asked him and he flinched, giving you a wide-eyed stare. He could tell from your tone you were genuinely worried. He was never that forward. Did he take it too far too fast?

"J-just…want you." His voice was quiet, and he buried his face into the nook of your neck, and you relaxed.

"Hmm, I see. You want some help?" You rested your cheek on his head, reaching for the zipper of his pants.

"No! You always do that for me. Want to help my pretty girl." He whined grabbing your wrist quick to stop your hand. You rested back further on his lap and he's looking down to where he grabbed your wrist. Relaxing the grip, he took both your hands in his and stroked the back of your right with his thumb.

"Why do you gotta say it like that?" You huffed, embarrassed.

"Let me show you."

"Show me what?"

"How pretty I think you are. You always take care of me, let me take care of you." He hadn’t whispered per se, but his voice was soft as he leaned back to you, placing a soft kiss on your mouth.

"I-I…"

"If you're not okay with-"

"No! It's just…I don't mind doing stuff for you, I like that I make you feel good, it makes me feel good." You shrugged, not able to look him in the eye. Chenle didn’t say anything, but shifted a bit and before you could get up, your world spun and you're on your back underneath him. Not having any idea, he was that strong, to just toss you like that, you found it incredibly attractive. Once again, you are shocked, seeing how he was looking at you. His gaze is intense, his pupils dilated. His knee wedged between your legs and your breath hitched when his thigh dug in over your covered mound. He held himself up with his left arm, using his right hand to go under your sweatshirt once again, but it didn't go past the top of your pants. Instead, it went lower, his fingers digging into your butt, his elbow bent to lower him back down to you; he kissed you again. He was more aggressive than before. The hand on your ass let him force you to grind on his thigh and you gave him a soft moan, letting him swallow it as his tongue reentered your mouth. It was turning you on way more than was logical. You had made out before, sure, but not like that. When you were about to tap out to breathe, he pulled back and your hands went to rest on his biceps as you caught your breath. His leg grinded against your core and couldn't help but let a sigh out. You knew that just riding his thigh would have been enough, but that would be something to try later. Even though he said he was okay waiting, you suddenly weren't.

"You okay to keep going?" He asked, and you whined out a yes; then he's off you, hauling you up by the arm and practically dragging you to your room. He flipped the light on, the bright ceiling lamp too harsh for the mood. He tapped the light bar behind your computer till it gave off a soft yellow glow so you can turn off the overhead. Gently, he brought you to sit on the bed and he kneeled on the floor in front of you, untying your shoes to take them off. You wanted to protest but when you opened your mouth to, he shot you a look that shut you up. He set your sneakers under your desk and took off your socks, throwing them into the corner vaguely near your laundry basket. He sat up straighter on his knees, kneeling between yours and looked up at you.

"I love you." He whispered, his lips brushing over yours. Your breath hitched and your throat clenched. While you knew how he felt and how you yourself did, it hadn't been said out loud yet.

"I love you too-" His hand shot out, burying in your hair at the back of your head and hauled you into another kiss. Moving to kneel at full height, once again you were eye level, and his hands went back to your sweatshirt. You let him take it off of you, reluctant to break the kiss to get it all the way off. You felt super sexy in your nude plain bra, but also kind of embarrassed. Yes, he had seen you in a swimsuit before, but it was one piece and, well, not your underwear.

"You okay?" He asked and you nodded.

"Y-yes. I just…have never…"

"You haven't?" He was genuinely surprised. He figured with how much you knew and what you even knew about yourself that you had experience.

"I-I've used toys, but I have never been with a guy before. I have done research and read too many fanfictions, so I know myself well…" You shrugged again and the news brought the whole night into a different realm.

"I haven't either." He admitted, but you really already knew. Being an idol there wasn't much time for dating and the only reason you two were going so strong was because you worked for the company and so your schedules didn't conflict. You still got to see each other a lot and you even traveled with him.

"Tell me what to do, what to know. Where are you sensitive, what do you like?" His hand rested on your waist under your bra, rubbing the soft skin with his thumb. As he requested, he leaned back into you, his mouth hovering over your neck. Placing a kiss there, he smiled at the little shiver you let out and he saw goosebumps form on your arms.

"I-I don't get much from my breasts, never have…" You started. Maybe it would be different if he did something, but you never got anything out of it.

"What else?" He was still kissing your neck, just lightly.

"The lighter touches just tickle, if you do it…harder, it will be better." You weren't sure how else to word it. He hummed and went right into it, sucking over your pulse point and you moaned lightly, his teeth brushing over your skin.

"T-try behind my ear." You added and his nose brushed the spot till you turned your head so he could kiss there. You sighed so he knew he did it right. Moving down again, his nose bumped your earring and ran over your throat.

"There-" Your breath hitched, already knowing that was a sensitive spot. To the extent that you suspected though had not yet been tested. Breath play isn't the best thing to do alone or for a first time. Just a slight bit of pressure was enough though because his rough open-mouth kiss to your throat made your hips jump. This shocked both of you, but he didn't react to it outwardly.

"M-My stomach is really sensitive." You continued and at that prompt, he started to undo the button of your jeans so he could access that part of you. Chenle didn't try and take them off, just undid them and pulled the hem down so your belly button is revealed. Even just the brush of his slightly cold fingers on the warm skin of your tummy made you shiver.

"Even just in general, its sensitive, so with…sexual stuff it really is. I get ticklish easier, things hurt easier, I feel temperature easier-" You kind of rambled on, getting more worked up with nerves and excitement. He hummed again and you grew suspicious, knowing he was planning something mischievous based off his tone. He pulled away from your neck and he shoved you, your back hitting the bed and you huffed. Digging his fingers into the waist of your pants, he hauled you closer and smirked before licking a hot path around your belly button and up to your sternum. The sensation almost knocked the wind out of you, and you were pretty sure your panties got ruined right then. The little imp chuckled at your reaction, watching you throw your head back and your fingers dug into his shirt at the shoulders.

"Oh, uh, do you…we need a condom?" He suddenly realized and you shook your head.

"I have an IUD, remember?"

"Uh, right…what- what is that again?"

"It's like a thing they put inside. It helps my really bad cramps, but it’s really a birth control." You explained and he remembered.

"The thing that looks like a T." He drew the letter in the air.

"Yes!" The conversation was much too casual for what had just happened, but his face once again got intense.

"So, I can just cum inside?" He whispered and there was something about how he said it that made your core clench around nothing. The idea obviously turned him on, and you made a note to delve into that later. Once again, he gave you no time to retort and his fingers reburied into your jeans and he pulled them down over your butt, the force making your hips jump up, so you didn't have to. In one more pull, they were off and flying somewhere across the room. It was like time slowed down as you moved to close your legs and cover yourself (you still had underwear on), but he noticed the dark patch on your pink panties. Time sped back up and fast-forwarded till your legs were abruptly held open, then spread, by his hands landing on your inner thighs. You yelped and were again shocked at his strength that he so easily prevented you from moving.

"C-Chenle!"

"You're so wet already." His breath was hot, your thighs twitched as you felt it on your skin.

"I-" You cleared your throat, "I get like that easily…Even with toys I never need lube…" You were a little shy to admit. He knew about your vibrators, having found them when he snooped through your drawers. He had gotten permission before you realized that it was in your nightstand and not hidden under your pillows like usual. You had two in a bag along with the cleaner and their chargers. You had to change the location you kept it after that, not trust him to to keep his mouth shut around the other boys. That was before you two had started dating.

He tossed you a look from between your legs and wondered just how wet you could get. Another smirk spread over his stupidly attractive face, and he stood back up. His hands came to the hem of his own shirt and you watched intently as he took the baggy t-shirt off. He was a skinny thing for sure, but he had more muscle tone than you really, truly realized. As your eyes roamed the expanse of smooth skin just revealed, he took his belt off; his pants immediately fell lower on his hips. His tiny little waist made pants fit weirdly because of his leg length and so a belt was almost always necessary. The waistband of his briefs was revealed from his jeans falling and he turned smug fast. While he wanted to tease you for ogling him, he decided not to and unbuttoned his pants; they fell. Even though you had seen his cock before, buried it in your throat, seeing him before you like that was different. Before you could really appreciate it though, he was back on his knees. His fingers ran over the wet patch of your underwear and your head reeled. Without hesitation he wrapped his arms around your thighs and buried his face into your covered pussy, licking through the fabric, soaking it further. You slammed your palm over your mouth to muffle the near scream you let out. It was one thing to touch yourself or use a vibrator, but having him lick you? Holy crap. Chenle had even done it over your underwear, you weren't sure you could take it bare.

"W-wait, if you do that I need to shower!" You insisted and he scoffed. You shower every night, and he really didn't care about the very slight sweat you worked up cleaning. You always smelled amazing. But you smelled so much better from your arousal than he even anticipated. Even through the fabric of your panties, you tasted amazing too.

"I'm about to make you sweat even more so what's the point?" His shameless declaration flabbergasted you. Your boyfriend ignored your protests and pulled your underwear off so fast you were worried he ripped it. You sat up quickly to look at the the discarded fabric and when you did, he reached around and unhooked your bra. He did it so easily it scared you a bit. Once that was off and you were completely naked, the embarrassment hit you.

"So pretty." He hummed, kissing you. You whined and then he let your mouth go, shoving you gently so you laid back down. His hands spread your legs back open, and your hips jumped hard when his tongue ran from the right above your slit to the bottom of your belly button. At this, his arm wrapped around your right leg, throwing it over his shoulder, and his forearm rested against your hips, holding you down. You were already embarrassingly close to cumming and didn’t know how. So much pent-up tension had hit you like a freight train it seemed.

"Ready?" He didn't wait for your answer however and his tongue buried into you. You gasped so hard you couldn't breathe for a second as the tip swirled your entrance than ran up to flick your clit. You came. He was a bit surprised when he felt your body tense like that, your head slamming back into the mattress, and you keened out a long whine. When the waves stopped you were even wetter than before, and he wanted to get more of your taste so bad. While the orgasm was strong, it hadn't taken much physical effort, so you weren't out of breath, but your legs were shaking a bit. When he noticed, he placed your other leg over his shoulder as well and dove back in. You weren't sure how he got so good at this, and maybe he really wasn't but you were just as inexperienced. The sensation was strange, and you wondered if you sucking him off felt anywhere as good as this. As he ate you out his nose bumped your still sensitive clit. Chenle used his thumbs to spread you out for him and you whined in embarrassment.

"So pretty." He murmured then shoved his tongue as far into you as he could, and it took your breath away. Your next orgasm was coming on fast, and you couldn't get enough air (or brain power) to warn him. With one more kitten lick to your clit, you fell apart again. Right as he was going to dive back in, you waved your hand to get his attention.

"I-I'll be too sensitive for a bit. Use…use your fingers." You told him when you were able to catch your breath and your legs stopped shaking. He was surprised and also proud of himself at that, and he noticed you were even more soaked.

"You're twitching." His voice was rougher than usual, and your eyes rolled back when he traced your hole with his finger.

"P-please." You begged, needing to be filled. Plus, you were used to a toy, but you were not prepared for his cock. As his finger entered you, you slammed your hand over your mouth to cover the moan. Using your own fingers never did much, they were short and not very thick, but even just one of his felt so good. Was it because it was him or your hand kink though? Who knew?

"Fuck, you're tight, sucking me in." He chuckled wiggling the digit.

"C-curl it up." You showed him with his own finger and did what you asked, feeling a rougher patch on the top of your walls.

"There?" He asked when he pressed on it specifically.

"Yes!" You gasped, he could get the right angle you never could, and he pressed it again, rubbing over it as your own fingers dug into the sheets.

"Can I add one?" He asked you moaned a general consenting note, and he did so.

"Oh, god-" You gasped, and he went to town. He loved the way every movement his fingers made caused you to twitch, your core clenching tight. Angling his hand different, he hit something at the end of your cunt and pressed it. Your breath hitched and he furrowed his brow.

"Cervix." You breathed out and he let out an 'oh'. As he fingered you, starting to thrust them some he smirked evilly, and his tongue brushed your clit and this time he could feel your cunt clench around his fingers as you came. He kept going for you to ride it out till you yiped when it got too sensitive. He pulled his fingers out and his face away, standing. Not able to meet his eyes, you held your hand over your mouth, looking away. Shooting a brief glance at him, you gasped in horror at what he showed you. His hand was soaked in your thick juices, and he looked at it in fascination. Meeting your eyes, he brings his fingers to his mouth to clean them off.

"You are going to kill me." You whispered and he laughed loudly at that.

"Can you keep going?" He asked and while you wouldn't mind just taking care of his little problem then going to bed, you needed him inside you now. You knew from your own experience you could hit a point of overstimulation where the pain burned into pleasure, and you could keep going. If he did the cardio part you could manage…probably.

"Yes, just you need to do more of the work." You told him and he nodded with a smile. You weren't out of shape, but he had way more stamina than you in every way.

Spread over the bed just catching your breath, he slipped his arms around you and helped you get higher up on the bed. When he crawled over you, you could only really make out his face from the dull light near your desk. His mouth pressed to yours instantly turning into a tongue war. Your hands met his on the waist band of his underwear and he shed the garment. Not only was he thicker than the toy, he would probably also go quite a bit deeper. Maybe once you were more used to it, he could take you from behind, but your cervix wasn't ready to get bruised.

"Tell me if it hurts too much, okay?" He whispered into your ear, and you nodded, resting a hand on the nape of his neck, and burying the other in his hair. His knee knocked your legs further apart and his hands guided your hips up and he shoved a stray pillow under. When the head of his cock hit your entrance the nervousness and excitement you felt peaked, and you focused on breathing, so you didn't clench around him too tight. It was his first time too and you both weren't sure how long he would last. Chenle let out a small gasp and moan as he started to sink his cock into your pussy and the burn got deeper as he did, making your vision swim. It hurt, sure, but it felt so good too.

"(Y/N), you feel so good." His head was thrown back as he tried to be slow, getting deeper into you inch by inch. Your walls were even tighter around his cock than his fingers, and so hot and so wet. When he finally stopped, filling you completely, you gasped for air. You thought in this position he wouldn't get as deep as he did, and you were in for quite a ride. You knew what he could do already, watching him dance, his hips were strong. His eyes were closed in concentration, eyebrows furrowed, trying not to move.

"S-sorry, just give me- a…a sec." You took steadying breaths, trying not to clench around him.

"I thought your mouth felt good." He groaned in your ear, resting his forehead on your shoulder, stroking your waist with his thumb. Remembering what you told him, he moved his hand from your thigh to your stomach and rubbed the skin under your belly button. You shivered, trying to not let your core clench around his cock too much.

"O-okay, move. Slow. Shallow." You informed him and he shifted to get into a more comfortable position then followed your instructions. He pulled back, not even a full inch, then thrusted slowly back in. A rough whine left your lips and he had to bury his fingers into the sheets to hold back. Chenle gave another shallow thrust, but just a bit faster. The head of his cock hit your cervix already and just that fact was arousing. As he kept making shallow thrusts, the burn sizzled away, and the pleasure washed over you like the tide on a beach. It grew stronger with each thrust, and you couldn't keep your walls from clenching around him. His dick was so much hotter and bigger than your toys, and you could feel his pulse through it.

"I-I need to move more." He warned you and you unwrapped your arms from around his shoulders, gripping the bedding above your head and nodded that he could continue.

"Do what you want, precious." You told him and Chenle groaned, hiking your legs up over and around his waist. His hips snapped, pulling out nearly all the way before slamming back in fully. Your breath left you; you nearly gave yourself whiplash with how hard you threw your head back.

"Fuck, (Y/N), you feel so good." He moaned through his grunts. He definitely learned how to move his hips from dancing and every time he buried his cock into your cunt his pelvis hit your sensitive clit. Black and white spots dotted your vision. Leaning over you, he pulled you into his arms, holding you so close his stomach met yours. When you gasped, and your wet cunt squeezed him tighter than before, he knew that it was the right thing to do. His stomach was pretty hard, with soft skin, the fine defining lines rubbing over your smooth tummy was almost too much. Chenle's thrusts got shallower but no less hard, even starting to lose rhythm.

"Noona, I'm close. I can come inside, right?" He moaned into your ear, his nose brushing at your throat.

"Please." You groaned and angled your hips up a bit more and fucked into you three more times before you felt his hot cum spray against your walls and into your protected womb. It was so hot, and the sensation knocked you over the edge once more and your even tighter passage helped him ride out his orgasm. When both of you were done, you felt like passing out, you were so tired. Reluctantly, he pulled away from you and out. You slipped in and out full awareness, but you felt him get off the bed and then come back. He had gotten a warm washcloth and helped clean you both off before he put his underwear back on and grabbed a pair of yours as well as a tank top. Sleepily, you let him help you get dressed and he shut the desk light off before joining you in bed and you immediately curled into him.

"Should you let your mom know you are staying the night here?" You mumbled and he groaned in realization. Your boyfriend ripped himself from you and went to get his phone. As you drifted to sleep you heard him at the door talking to his mother on the phone.

"Yeah, I ate. I'll come tomorrow afternoon. Huh? Yeah, I told her. She loves me too."

Master-Master List

NCT Master List

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lotsoflola · 1 year ago

Text

6:06pm

"stop fucking moving," you muttered, eyes focused as you dragged the brush across your boyfriend's face, the coolness of the face mask causing him to shiver slightly.

jeno let out a soft chuckle, his eyes bending into a smile watching the concentration on your face, your tongue stick out the side of your mouth as you focused on coating your boyfriend's face in a layer of light blue goodness. "remind me what this does again?"

he was teasing you. you had spent about twenty minutes explaining every step of the skincare routine you had created for him, going through the benefits of every product as you gently treated him to a pamper night. his hair was pushed back off his eyes with a soft, fluffy hairband, shirtless with only grey joggers low om hips. you, on the other hand, had one of jeno's hoodies on, massive on you as it went down to your mid-thigh, with a pair of cotton shorts on to keep you warm.

you were perched up on your bathroom counter, bare legs growing goosebumps against the cold china, so you were at eye level with jeno. he was so much taller than you that even when up on the counter you still felt like he was towering over you, standing still in between your legs as you treated him to half your skincare fridge, making him the prettiest princess in the world.

"it's a detoxifying mask," you said for about the twentieth time that evening, still painting on his face, "it's gonna clean out your pores, i've told you this, baby."

"i know, doll," he leant forward, planting a kiss on the tip of your nose, causing pink to flush onto your cheeks, "how long until we can take this off?"

you hopped off the counter, taking your boyfriend's hand in your own and dragging him from the bathroom back into your bedroom, collapsing onto the bed in a dramatic fashion. "about 20 minutes, but you have to let it dry, jen."

"it feels weird on my face," he brought his hand up to touch you, and you quickly yanked it away, jumping up from the bed and pulling him down over you. if it wasn't for his quick reactions, he would have landed straight on top of you, but he stuck his hands out quickly. "guessing i'm not allowed to touch it, then?"

you gently smacked his chest. "just lie down and get comfy, let me put some music on."

you rolled out from underneath him, leaving him to collapse onto his back, watching you as you grabbed the speaker, a soft rnb playlist suddenly filling the evening air. a packet of chocolates was on the side of the dressing table, and you snatched them up before sitting next to him. his arm snaked round your shoulder, squeezing you in tight as you curled up in his side. you popped a strawberry one in your mouth, the sweet taste melting on your tongue. jeno opened his mouth, pinching your shoulder to get your attention, and you complied, placing one on his tongue for him.

"thank you, baby," he muffled, somehow pulling you even closer to his side, "hmm, i love you."

you let out a soft chuckle. "love you too, how you liking the face mask?"

"makes my skin feel tight," he scrunched his nose, the light blue coating wrinkling as he did so, "feels like it's dry though."

you reached out to tap it lightly, the outer layer feeling fully dried down. "stay there, i'll peel it off for you."

"what?!" an alarm expression painted itself on your boyfriend's face, and you couldn't help but laugh, "you're not gonna peel off my skin?!"

"no, baby," you planted a kiss against the top of his hair, "the mask is gonna peel off."

"are you sure?" he grabbed your wrist, stopping you with worry in his eyes.

"i'm sure, jen. let me just-"

and you peeled the entire mask off, most of it in one go, throwing it in the bin by the side of the bed. his entire body was tense as you grabbed a pot of moisturiser, swiping a thin layer over his skin, gently patting it into your skin before planting a kiss against his lips, smiling as your body melted into his.

his arms wrapped around your body, stroking up and down as you got as close to him as physically possible. your hands slid his headband off, nestling in his hair as you became lost in his body, the two of you becoming one.

"thank you, baby," he mumbled against your lips.

you smiled, pulling away to get a look at your freshly pampered princess. "don't you worry, jen."

#nct 127 imagine #nct imagine #nct x reader #nct #nct dream imagine #jeno #lee jeno #jeno imagine #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct dream x reader #jeno fluff

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stop-talking · 11 months ago

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I am soooo excited for the rest of your Derek fic your Mike fic was so good!!! It was everything I want from enemies to lovers so I can't wait for more 💕

So I'm stuck on this shithole island, and I can't even have a smoke? (pt. 2)

Derek Danforth x fem reader

Word count: 3.1k

Tags: 18+, Derek x fem reader, no use of y/n, angst, enemies, enemies to lovers, fluff, (very) slowburn, sass, banter, misogynistic & violent undertones, (Derek is a prick), suggestive themes, mentions of drug use, withdrawals, rehab, overall mature content.

Part 1 Part 3

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Derek is pulled from his deep, trance-like sleep by the sound of someone calling his name.

He sits up in bed, blinking and swaying slightly as he adjusts to the light pouring in through his windows.

"Derek? C'mon, wake up."

Who the hell is knocking on his door? Everyone knows not to wake him unless it's urgent.

He stumbles to the door, nearly tripping over his own feet. Why is his head pounding? Is he hungover?

"Fuck d'ya want?"

Derek opens the door, ready to chew out whoever is on the other side. He stops when he sees you, and suddenly remembers everything that happened last night.

Beach house. Three weeks. With you. Sober.

"I was thinking we could have breakfast?"

Derek blinks at you, unsure what to even say. He wasn't used to being woken up like this, and his head was still pounding. God, he wanted his vape already.

"Umm... sure. Let me..." He looks down at his clothing, a simple t-shirt and some sweats. He feels... naked.

"I'm gonna change." He mumbles, closing the door before you can fully take in his disheveled appearance. He doesn't like letting people see him without his usual clothing. Which, honestly, was anything but usual.

Today, Derek decides on a floral print button-up, and a nice pair of green slacks. He doesn't bother with a jacket or blazer, it's too hot for that. He finishes the look by adding a belt with a chunky gold buckle, and his staple, snakeskin boots.

After getting dressed, he moves on to his hair, putting a small handful of product into his curls. The frosted tips are relatively new, and Derek smiles at his reflection. He looks pretty damn good, all things considered.

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"Morning." You nod to Derek as he makes his way into the kitchen.

"Morning..." He mumbles back, taking a seat on a stool next to the island.

"How're you feeling?" You turn away from the breakfast you were beginning to prepare, just a gathering of ingredients really, and look him over.

He looks... tired. He's dressed in his regular clothes now... well, regular for Derek. You can't help but notice the way his leg bounces nervously, how he repeatedly reaches into his pocket, only to take his hand back out immediately.

"Fine." He answers flatly, turning and scratching at the back of his neck.

Hm. He sure didn't look fine.

"You know I'm here to help you, right?" You decide to take a risk and verbally prod him a little, just to see if he opens up.

He doesn't.

"Shouldn't you be cooking me breakfast?" He sneers, narrowing his eyes at you as you lean on the counter across from him.

Okay, that's enough sass.

"If you want to eat breakfast, you can help make it."

Derek scoffs at that.

"I don't cook."

"So you've said."

The two of you silently stare at each other for a few moments, Derek's eyes narrow while you remain calm and serious. Finally, he relents.

"Fuck are you even making?" He grumbles, shifting in his seat to peek over your shoulder at the ingredients you've gathered on the counter behind you.

"Pancakes." You step aside so he can see the box of pancake mix, and do your best to muster up a smile. He's grumpy, yeah, but not truly angry yet. Better not push him if an argument can be avoided.

"So... do you want to help me cook breakfast, or do last night's dishes?"

Derek looks back and fourth between you and the sinkful of dishes, frowning.

"...You said pancakes?"

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Derek grimaces as a bit of pancake batter splashes on his silk shirt from his sloppy whisking. How did he get roped into this? Cooking? Seriously?

"Is it supposed to look so... lumpy?" He asks, frowning as he lifts the whisk and watches the weird goop plop down into the bowl.

"Yeah, that's normal. Keep mixing, and scrape the bottom. You're doing great."

He sighs, but continues to whisk, more carefully this time. It's... not that hard, actually. Even if it looks lumpy and weird.

After a minute or so, you apparently decide he's done enough, and take the bowl from him.

"So... am I done?"

"...do you want to eat raw batter?"

"No."

"Then no."

Derek scowls, watching as you spray something on the pan.

"Then what am I-"

"Just wait. I'll explain."

He lets out a rather dramatic sigh, then leans against the counter and eyes you. As annoying as you are... he can't help but admit you're attractive. Just a little.

Soon, you're pouring batter into the pan and walking him through cooking a pancake. He's only half-listening. It should be easy. Let it cook on one side, flip it, let the other side cook. Right? Even he couldn't fuck that up.

"You ready to try?" You ask, giving him an eager smile. Damn. Okay, maybe you're more than just a little attractive.

Derek just nods and takes the bowl from you, pouring some batter into the pan, trying to mimic what you did. Unfortunately, he overshot his pour, and it spread out to fill almost the entire pan.

"It's okay." You assure him. "It'll just be a big one."

He resists the urge to make a stupid joke about his "big one", instead deciding to just shrug it off and move on.

"So.. how do I tell when it's ready to flip again?" He asks, shifting awkwardly as you both silently wait for the pancake to cook.

"When it starts bubbling at the edges. Look, there's already a few."

You point, and he leans down to watch it more carefully.

"...can I flip it now?"

"Yeah, go ahead. Just like I showed you."

Derek accepts the spatula you hand him, gently sliding it under the pancake. Okay... just flip it. No big deal.

He completely fucks it up. The oversized pancake folds in half over the side of the pan, batter splattering all over the stove. He jumps back in shock, then straightens himself and scowls when he hears you laughing.

"It's not funny." He glares at you, then turns his attention back to the sorry excuse for a pancake. It's half-cooked, dripping down the side of the pan and onto the stovetop.

"No, no... It's not. I'm sorry..." You choke out between wheezes.

"Make breakfast yourself." Derek huffs, throwing the spatula onto the counter and storming off.

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After taking a minute to calm yourself down from the laughing fit, and several minutes to clean up Derek's failed attempt at a pancake, you finally convince him to come try again.

"Here, I'll guide you through it this time." You place a hand over his as he holds the spatula, standing directly behind him and speaking in a soothing manner.

He glances back at you and shifts slightly, looking... nervous? No, no way. He's probably just still grumpy from earlier.

"C'mon, you only messed up last time because there was too much batter. You'll do fine." You assure him, giving his hand a light squeeze.

"Yeah... alright." He seems to stiffen from your touch instead of relax. Odd.

When it's finally time to flip it, you count down from three, then help guide him through the motion. This time, there's no mess. A perfect flip.

"See? You did great." You nudge him playfully with your elbow, giving him a grin.

"Yeah... I did." He mumbles and turns away, suddenly extremely interested in the bowl of batter.

Is he... blushing? You can't tell for sure, with his head turned, but the tips of his ears look a little... pink.

"Wanna make a few more, master chef Derek?" You tease him, leaning over to try and get a glimpse of his face.

"Calling me master already, sweetheart?" He quips back, turning to face you with a smirk of his own. Whatever blush you thought you saw is gone now, replaced by his usual cocky demeaner.

Of course he'd respond like that. Asshole.

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Derek remains relatively quiet throughout breakfast, focusing mainly on stuffing his face.

He chews slowly, trying to wrap his head around what just happened. So many emotions are running through his head right now that he hardly feels his throbbing headache.

The way you smiled at him. How you didn't give up on him when he messed up. Fuck, you even held his hand. Well, you put your hand on top of his while he held a spatula. But still, that counted, right?

"So... what's the plan for today?" He finally asks, looking up at you from across the dining table."

"What do you mean?"

"Like... what are we gonna do? Sit on our asses all day?" He scowls, and stuffs another bite of pancake into his mouth.

"If that's what you want."

"Itths noht." Derek shakes his head, mumbling through a mouthful of food.

"Gross. Chew your fucking food." You give him a pointed look, then take a bite of your own breakfast.

"Whatever. Seriously. If I have to stay cooped up in this house for THREE WEEKS, I'm going to go insane."

"You're already pretty insane."

"I'll get worse."

You laugh at that, and Derek frowns. It's not funny. He's completely serious.

"Well... if you're that eager to get out, how about we walk down to the beach for the afternoon? Spend the day in the sand?"

"Yeah... that sounds nice."

He quickly finishes up the rest of his food, eager to get out. And maybe also excited at the prospect of seeing you in a bikini. Just a bit.

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Around half an hour later, you walk downstairs, sporting a new bathing suit.

You study Derek, who's changed into swimming trunks. Cheetah print, obviously. Pfft. With the mullet and the animal print, he reminds you a lot of that one guy. What does he call himself? The... tiger king?

The thought makes you laugh, and Derek frowns.

"What's so funny?" He asks, eying you from the couch as he lounges with his feet up and his hands behind his head.

"Nothing. You look... nice." You nod to him, and give his body a quick once-over with your eyes. Definitely not checking him out. Not staring. At all.

Derek does the same to you, studying your choice of swimwear. You chose a one-piece swim dress, pink with a little pair of shorts built in under the skirt. It would be considered modest, if it weren't for the plunging neckline and the panel cut out of the back. Speaking of which...

"Hey, can you get my back for me?" You ask, holding up a bottle of sunscreen. That seems to break Derek out of his trance, and he sits up and pats the spot next to him on the couch.

"Sure, If you'll do mine."

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Derek is a little disappointed about your swimsuit choice at first, but then he takes in the low neckline. And the skirt... damn. He knew there was probably something under it, but he couldn't help but imagine there wasn't, just for a moment.

And now you're asking him to rub sunscreen on your back? Holy shit.

"Like this?" He asks, applying a generous amount of the cream to your back.

"Mhm."

He takes a little bit of liberty and gets your shoulders as well, gently rubbing your skin and tucking his hands under the straps of your swimsuit to make sure every inch is covered. He has to restrain himself from letting his hands roam further.

"Here, do mine for me." He drops the sunscreen bottle into your lap and turns, his back facing you.

Christ. Your hands on his back feel... heavenly. He bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from letting out a groan.

"There. You're all covered." You finish by giving him a quick pat on the shoulder, then standing up and stretching. Derek can't help but stare as you do, and suddenly, he wishes his shorts weren't so... thin.

He shakes himself and stands as well, heading for the door. As long as he has his back to you, you won't notice just how much he likes that swimsuit of yours.

Unfortunately... you don't fucking leave him alone. Of course.

"Wait, did you get the rest of your body?" You ask, grabbing the little beach bag you packed and scurrying to catch up with him.

"I'll be fine." He answers, shrugging it off and walking a little faster to stay ahead of you.

"That's stupid. You want to burn everywhere but your back?"

"I'm not going to burn, sweetheart. I just tan."

"Derek. At least get the rest of your torso. And face. Please?"

He winces as you finally catch up to him and grab his arm, but he's mostly calmed down now, so he just sighs and nods.

"Fine. But I'll do it myself."

You two walk down a wooden path that eventually gets buried in white sand as you approach the beach. It's beautiful, open and empty, untouched by anyone other than the Danforth family.

Derek sloppily applies sunscreen as he walks, slathering it on his torso, neck, and face. When he's done with his half-ass job, he turns to you and scowls.

"There. Happy now?"

"Hold on, you didn't rub it in all the way..." You gently swipe at his cheek with your hand, smiling.

"Stop that." He mumbles, pressing his hand to his cheek in the spot you just touched.

"Stop what?"

"Treating me like a child."

You seem taken aback by that answer, because you don't respond for a minute, trudging through the sand in silence.

"I'm not trying to treat you like a child. But your mom did task me with taking care of you, so..."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm a grown man and I have a goddamn babysitter." He growls, though he can't really find it in himself to feel angry. Being taken care of... doesn't sound too bad right now.

"Oh, boohoo. Come on. Lets go swim."

"Uhh... I think I'll stay here." He mutters, sitting down in the sand and watching you make your way over to the ocean. When you had suggested spending the day in the sand, he'd assumed you meant... well, literally staying in the sand.

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You turn and frown as Derek plops down on the ground, refusing to budge.

"What? You scared to get a little wet?" You tease him, shouting to be heard over the waves. The cold water crashing over your ankles makes you shiver.

"No." He pouts, settling back against the beach bag you packed.

"Just... don't wanna."

That makes you even more confused. What's his deal? First he complains about being cooped up, then he refuses to go for a dip?

You trot back over to him, kicking up sand.

"Derek. Come on. I didn't do all this just to get blown off. Come swim with me." You tug on his arm, and he reluctantly gets up.

"I guess I could get my feet wet..." He scowls, looking at the ocean with disdain.

"You'll do more than that." You scold him, linking your arm in his and practically dragging him over to the water.

He makes a scrunched up face when the first wave hits him, washing over his feet and sinking his ankles into the sand.

When you try to tug him along further, he doesn't budge.

"I'm not getting in the water."

"Why not?" You finally ask, exasperated.

"I... I can't swim." He mumbles something, but the wind carries it away.

"What?"

"I can't swim." He groans, pulling away from you and burying his face in his hands.

This makes you pause, but only for a moment.

"Okay, then don't swim. Just come sit in the water." You make another grab for him, and he doesn't resist this time, letting you take him a few steps further. Once the water is about halfway to your knees, you lower yourself, and Derek sits beside you.

"This okay?" You ask, turning to look at him.

"It's cold. And wet."

"Yeah, that's... kinda how the ocean is."

You sit in silence for a few moments, until you finally clear your throat and speak up again.

"How have you gone this long without learning to swim? Don't you, like, host pool parties?"

"I mostly stick to the shallow end." He grumbles, shrugging the question off.

"Why not do the same here? Wade into waist-level with me?" You prod him with a finger, poking his side in a playful manner.

That just earns you a scowl.

"Because. There isn't a fucking shallow end in the ocean. It's... weird." He visibly shudders as he stares out into the endless waves, and shies back a bit.

You can tell this is a touchy subject for him, so you just sigh and let it go. Whatever. You can swim alone, right?

"Well, I'm going to go a little further in, you're welcome to join me."

With that, you stand and wade into the water, your walk turning to a paddle as the ground drops away beneath you. The ocean feels freeing, the gentle rocking of the waves lulling you into a trance-like state.

When you finally glance back at Derek, you see he's already sitting in the sand again, positioned so the waves can just barely reach his feet. Hm. He must really have a thing about the water.

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That night, Derek lies in bed, tossing and turning as he tries to fight away his many thoughts on the day's activities.

He thinks about cooking breakfast with you, how you held his hand and praised him for his efforts.

And oh god, your touch. He can practically feel your hands on his back still.

Then at the beach... you hardly reacted to his lack of swimming prowess. Though, he was still a little bitter you fucked off without him and left him to sit in the sand.

You made up for it tenfold at dinner, letting him help you in the kitchen. He didn't want to admit it, but he genuinely enjoyed learning to cook. Even if it did feel so... domestic.

He can still hear the words you spoke to him ringing in his ears as he shuts his eyes tight and tries to sleep.

"See? You've got it. Just like that."

"You're a natural."

"Keep going. Almost there."

Fuck. He couldn't squander his thoughts of you, no matter how hard he tried.

And that wasn't even his worst problem. You'd managed to distract him pretty damn well throughout the day, always keeping him busy with something.

But now, alone in his room, his head was pounding again, and all he wanted was a hit of his vape. Or maybe a shot. Or some blow. Just anything to get rid of the goddamn headache.

He groans and sits up in bed, and moves to do the only thing he can think to do. Go see you.

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Author's note: Oh man. I dunno if I'm gonna be able to keep doing this whole "posting one chapter a day" thing for much longer. I originally intended this chapter to be 2k words, maybe 2.5k at most, but sheesh. It grew into this... and I wanted to write more, but stopped myself. It's currently 3am and I've worked on this for around 6 hours today.

Also... why did I make Derek unable to swim? Idk. Tertiary plot? The man doesn't have many personality traits in the cannon other than "douchebag rich brat with mommy issues". I'm trying to keep him in character, but it's hard when the character isn't all that fleshed out to begin with, so bear with me here.

ANYWAYS, hope y'all enjoy! Now is your time to send in Derek Danforth requests... cuz I'm writing this as I go along. Who knows? Maybe your suggestion will make it into the next chapter. & thank you to the anon who sent the kind words <3

Part 3

#jhutch #josh hutcherson #derek danforth #fanfic #josh hutcherson x reader #derek danforth x reader #the beekeeper #enemies to friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #slowburn fic #slowburn romance

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