"A FAVOR FOR A FAVOR," With GENSHIN IMPACT.

Yotasuke Takahashi: Why “Talent” Will Never Be Enough

Picture this: 

You’re Yotasuke Takahashi. You leaned into drawing when you were young because maybe at that time, you do like it, you scribble what you like on the paper, a childish but a pure intention to immortalize the things you love. You never had big ideas on being an artist — Hell, even the day you picked up a pencil was probably just coincidence. You have no drive nor passion behind your actions, it was just something you do. 

But then, people started labelling that as “talent”. And all of a sudden, you were being expected to be an artist because of what they call “talent”. Your identity shifted to that of “someone who draws well”, the lingering silhouette that was imprinted on others’ mind. Your fate was decided on your behalf when you didn’t even know what fate was. There was no choice, for better or worse. You will be an artist. 

So, you started to do what artists would, but only under the command of others. Because they were the one who laid down this path you never choose, but it wasn’t like you had any other paths to walk on, so you can only string along with heavy, unwilling footsteps. You couldn’t help but feel contempt, and yet — you keep walking. 

You slowly realize this road you were taking was getting harder to walk on.

You started to notice your pace was falling off, despite getting a head start. There were peers on this road, who feels vastly different from you, who you look at in jealousy because they didn’t have to choose art, the thing you were good at and struggling to love so hard. Yet they are still surpassing you, without the “talent” you have. 

You’re afraid now. 

The fear that always broiled in the back of your mind started to leak out, that without your “talent”, you will be no one — the thought that was supposed to be comforting suddenly feels so terrifying. You desperately wanted to widen the gap, but you never knew how, and you couldn’t bring yourself to work hard on the very thing you dislike. So, you just stand and look at the gap closing in.

Because you know you were lacking something from the start. 

And talent was never enough.

itoshi sae has no idea how you do it.

classwork, homework, midterms, exams, two jobs, and a lively group of friends? it all sounds so unnecessary to him, these things that would be distractions from his dream. but for you, it sustains you and encourages you to keep going. how differently our minds work, he thinks to himself when he has a rare day to spend on your couch and you're typing away at some assignment on your laptop.

"why do you do that?" you don't respond the first time he asks and he gently calls your name, even though you're barely three feet away. you turn to him with a tired look and something pangs inside his chest. "why bother doing that?"

"bother doing what?"

"whatever it is you're doing right now." he nods at your glaring laptop screen filled with words he can't even begin to understand, some final before your university goes on winter break.

"because it's part of my degree?" there's no malice in your words, just genuine confusion, just like there's no accusations in his words, just concern. "if i fail this class, i don't graduate."

"why do you need to graduate, or have a degree in the first place?"

"because i need a job, my love," you explain patiently. "we've had this conversation before. going to school means i can get a well-paying job to sustain myself."

"why do you need to sustain yourself when you have me?" you blink at him and his blank face. the only sign of emotion is the slight pinch between his eyebrows; he was truly puzzled why he couldn't just set you up for life. dating itoshi sae is like being an unwilling sugar baby.

"i'm not going to leech off your earnings," you chuckle in disbelief. "i'm not going to use you to make sure i have a comfortable life. i love you, and my kind of love stays whether we have money or not." he shifts awkwardly in his seat and his mouth pouts the tiniest amount. he obviously didn't like your reply.

"whatever i'm doing, it isn't enough for you," he states quietly.

without another word, you exhale through your nose and shut your laptop. you place it on the coffee table before crawling over and maneuvering your way into his arms. he gladly accepts you, sliding down the couch's armrest so that you're nearly lying on top of him. it's quiet for a few moments, not in an uncertain way but in a way that said both of you were figuring out how to articulate your thoughts.

"i just think that--"

"you don't need to--" you both begin your explanations at the same time and the huff of his laugh vibrates against your cheek. "you go first," you tell him.

"i was saying that, if you wanted me to," he inhales and tries to tiptoe around what he wants to say before deciding to just crush it with his foot, "i can take care of you without you needing a degree." a certain selfish part of him wanted you there for every single victory and ladder rung he ascended, not because he thought you owed him, but because he owed you. you, who weathered his darkest of moods and harshest of snaps. he owed you for dealing with his bullshit, so he figured, why should you need to lift a finger when you've already done so much for him? "i owe you that much for everything that you've seen me through."

"you don't owe me anything, itoshi sae. loving you is not transactional, nor have i ever wanted it to be."

"everything is transactional, mi amor," he argues and the pet name makes your heartrate increase. "give and take, it's how the world flows. shouldn't your university classes be teaching you that?" your eyes have fluttered shut on his chest, but you still hear the smirk in his joke.

"believe it or not, mister 'fame is the only thing that matters to me,' there are transactions beyond material goods."

"i know that," he says indignantly. "i also know that you're wrong."

"am i?"

"yes," he affirms. "i don't only care about fame. i care about you too, obviously."

"see, sae? give and take. i give you all i am--"

"and you take all i am."

"body and soul?"

"and everything in between," he finishes, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before settling into the pillows. "rest, mi amor. you've paid more attention to school than to me lately, and that's an unequal transaction."

“i don’t get you,” sukuna mutters, arms resting on his knees as he stares at your cat, who sits primly on the floor, tail flicking lazily. “you’re small. your head is tiny. you have no claws worth a damn, and yet you strut around like you own this place.”

your cat blinks at him slowly. the audacity.

“oh, so now you’re being mysterious? yeah, real intimidating, runt,” sukuna scoffs, leaning in. “tell me, why the hell do you scream at five in the morning for no reason?”

your cat meows. sukuna nods, as if that was an actual answer.

“nah, i don’t buy it. i know when someone’s bullshitting me.” he strokes his chin, as if deep in thought. “and what’s with the scratching? you have a whole damn tree to tear up, but no, it’s gotta be the couch, huh? or my chair. my throne in this shitty modern world.”

your cat remains utterly unfazed, licking a paw and dragging it over its ear. sukuna clicks his tongue in frustration.

“you think you’re untouchable. you think you can do whatever you want just ‘cause you’re small and cute?” he narrows his eyes. “you remind me of someone.”

you narrow your eyes right back from your hiding spot behind the doorway. excuse me?

but sukuna is too deep in his investigation to notice. he gestures toward your phone lying face-down on the table. “and what’s with you and cameras huh? every time there’s a flash, you go feral. you act like you’re being dragged to hell.”

your cat’s ears twitch. a clear tell.

“ohhhh,” sukuna smirks, leaning in like he’s caught onto something juicy. “what, you got a dark past? you some kinda criminal? don’t want your face out there ‘cause you’re on a hit list?”

the cat swipes at sukuna’s knee, and he actually pulls back with a scoff. “oi, don’t get violent with me, brat. i asked a simple question.”

you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing.

“i should make you my disciple,” sukuna suddenly muses, tilting his head as he assesses the feline before him. “you got the attitude down. the little mind games. yeah… you could be something great.”

your cat sneezes.

sukuna frowns, as if personally offended. “...you’re turning down my offer? just like that?”

he sits back with a dramatic sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “unbelievable. you’re worse than your owner.”

excuse me again???

before you can march in and object, your cat gets up, stretches leisurely, and then—just to really assert dominance—turns around and sticks its tail right in sukuna’s face before trotting off.

he stares after it, jaw clenched, eye twitching.

“…i’m gonna eat it.”

you finally lose the battle against your laughter.

why don’t you figure my heart out? | p. wb (prologue)

synopsis: you’re the stylist to rockstar park wonbin, your first ever job in the fashion industry. he has a bad reputation for being hard to please and getting angry at his staff. he’s cold and dismissive towards you initially but as time progresses, he tries hard to be nicer towards you despite still having his moments. you’re constantly left confused by the way he behaves, wondering what it is he wants from you. can you figure his heart out?

contains: smut (in later parts), wonbin being an asshole (be prepared to want to beat him up lmfao)

characters in this part: you as wonbin’s stylist, wonbin as a rockstar, winter as wonbin’s manager

word count: 1k

it was the first day at your new job working as a stylist for the hottest rockstar at the moment, park wonbin. you knew working in the fashion industry was tough but nothing could prepare you for working with wonbin. not only was he extremely hard to please, he was known to be rude and dismissive towards his staff and you’d hear multiple stories of him making staff cry. regardless, you were determined to stay resilient as being a stylist was your dream ever since you were a little girl, always helping your friends and family with putting together outfits. you had made significant effort to look nice today, wearing a white t-shirt with a black, unbuttoned cardigan and a denim mini skirt. you styled the outfit with a pair of black boots and silver jewellery; your hair and makeup took hours, but you still looked effortless.

you took a deep breath as you walked into the studio, your heart pounding faster than it ever has in your life. there was a woman waiting for you at the front, greeting you with a friendly smile. “hi, you must be y/n right? i’m winter, wonbin’s manager, it’s nice to meet you,” she said, extending her hand. you shook her hand, grateful for her warm welcome which calmed your nerves slightly. “yes, that’s me. it’s nice to meet you too,” you replied, trying not to sound too nervous. winter walked you through the studio, introducing you briefly to other members of wonbin’s team. she got to wonbin’s room and turned to you. “wonbin’s just in here. just remember, he can be a bit intense, ok? just try to not take it to heart,” she said, giving you a reassuring smile. you nodded, your stomach twisting in knots as she opened the door.

and there he was. park wonbin himself sat on a chair, eyes fixed on his phone, completely disinterested in your presence. “finally, you’re here,” he snapped, not bothering to stand up or greet you properly. “let’s get started. i don’t have all day.” from this brief interaction, you already knew that this job was going to be one of the toughest challenges you had ever faced, and you swallowed hard in an attempt to guard yourself against his cold demeanour. you approached him, determined to make a good first impression despite his attitude. “good morning, mr park. i’m y/n, your new stylist,” you greeted, remaining professional despite your nerves. “i’ve prepared some outfits for your-“ before you could finish, wonbin cut you off. “yes, it’s for the photoshoot, just get on with it,” he interrupted impatiently, barely sparing you a glance.

you swallowed your initial frustration while you laid out the outfits you had meticulously prepared, each one designed to reflect his sleek yet edgy persona. you could feel wonbin’s eyes occasionally flicking towards you, assessing your every move with an air of silent judgment. with almost every outfit you presented to him, he rolled his eyes, complaining that they were all too basic for him and didn’t bring anything new to the table. “i’ve worn something like that a million times,” he muttered dismissively, his tone impatient. you tried to remain calm, reminding yourself of all the work you’d done to get to this point. determined to impress him, you pulled out the final outfit you had planned: a thin, black jumper with a black vest layered underneath paired with black, baggy jeans and a pair of dr martens. you added a statement belt and a couple of accessories that you hoped would appeal to his taste. “i thought this look could be different from your usual style while keeping true to your signature look,” you explained, holding up the outfit.

wonbin eyed the ensemble with a raised eyebrow. “what’s different about it?” he challenged, his tone sharp. you took a deep breath, trying to keep your composure. “well, i noticed you always wear that necklace,” you began, pointing to the piece of jewelry that hung around his neck. “i was reading this article and found out it’s something you’ve had since childhood. i thought we could incorporate it into your outfit to give it your own personal charm.”his eyes narrowed at you, and he leaned forward, a questioning look on his face. “did you just say you did research on my necklace?” he asked, his voice dripping with skepticism and anger. “you stalking me or something?”you felt a flush of embarrassment and a twinge of fear, but you stood your ground. “n-no, mr park. as your stylist, i need to understand your personal style and what matters to you. i aimed to create an outfit that not only looks good but also means something.”his face toughened, and he stood up, stepping closer to you, his presence imposing. “that’s just really fucking creepy,” he hissed. “you’re my stylist, not my biographer. stick to picking clothes and stop pretending you know me.”

you swallowed hard, feeling the sting of his words. “i-i didn’t mean to overstep, i’m so sorry. my intention was to create something meaningful for you,”you said, stuttering over your words. he snatched the outfit from your hands, examining it with a critical eye. “this better be fucking worth it,” he muttered. “i don’t have time for dumb little amateurs.”simultaneously frustrated and determined, you helped him change into the outfit. As he stood in front of the mirror, you adjusted the necklace to make sure it was visible, accentuating its significance. wonbin examined himself critically, his expression unchanging. “not bad,” he admitted reluctantly. “but don’t think this means i like you. you have a lot to prove.”you nodded, attempting to hide your relief. “thank you, mr park. i’ll continue to do my best.” wonbin turned away, dismissing you with a wave of his hand. “we’ll see about that. just mind your business and keep out of my personal life.”

you left the room, your heart pounding just like when you entered. your hands were shaking as you held back tears, insistent on ignoring wonbin’s harsh words. you didn’t want to let them discourage you, this had been your dream for years. after this encounter, you wanted to prove yourself to wonbin that this opportunity was one that you deserved even if he was difficult towards you.

cee’s taglist ♡ @binoyu @taemyoun @wonbin-truther @scarwxrld @wonbinkisser @luvnvivi (comment to be added <3)

Space & Time || P. SH

❀ pairing: roommate!sungho x implied fem!reader

❀ genre: roommates to lovers, college!au, fluff, minor angst

❀ word count: ~6.1k

❀ warnings: explicit language, minor jealousy, literally one implication of queer!sungho

❀ summary: The space that you share with Park Sungho sometimes feels a little too small. In time, the closeness proves to grow into something neither of you can contain. But hey, that's the case for all roommates...right?

❀ a/n: Once again, my writer's block went craaaazy for this piece. I spent so long hating it, but now I actually really love it! I feel like the style is a little different from what I usually do, so I hope you enjoy. As always, likes, reblogs, and replies are encouraged!

masterlist

Truthfully, Park Sungho is the perfect roommate. It doesn’t matter that sometimes he sings a little too loud in the shower because at least his voice is melodious. It doesn’t matter that sometimes he scolds you for leaving a dirty dish out because he laughs with you equally as much. It doesn’t matter that he frequently has his friends over, because they are always polite and include you in every outing. 

Park Sungho is perfect, almost a little too perfect. 

You first start to realize after coming home one night, two years into living together. Your feet are aching from your nice heels and your ears are ringing from the car horns on the street. It’s enough to have you entering your apartment with a sigh, kicking off your heels the minute you can see your welcome mat. 

“You’re home early,” Sungho says as you round the corner, standing up to greet you in that overly respectful manner of his. “How was it?”

The question instantly has tears springing to your eyes, stinging your corneas as if they were poisonous. Sungho is clearly panicked by your change in demeanor, flailing slightly as he approaches. His coos and attempts to shush you just make your tears turn into sobs, throwing your head back as you finally let all of your pent up emotions out. 

“It was horrible,” you hiccup. 

For a moment, Sungho flails once again. But then you’re encased by strong arms, a hand on the back of your head guiding you to lean into an overly wide shoulder. He smells faintly of clean laundry and sea salt, the latter due to the undertone in the cologne he constantly wears. A large hand smooths down the expanse of your exposed back, palms cool against the heat of your skin. You let your tears flow into the cotton of his shirt, feeling comfortable for the first time all night. 

“Come on, let’s sit down.”

Sungho doesn’t let go as the two of you move, waddling your way through your shared apartment. Instead of pulling you down to sit next to him, Sungho gathers you so that you’re seated straddling his lap, face still tucked into his shoulder. It’s an intimate position, far too intimate for mere roommates, but you’re too distracted by your sobs and the feeling of Sungho’s cool hands on your back to care. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sungho coos, voice melodious and overly soft. 

You just shake your head, not trusting your voice. It was simple, actually, why your date went so horribly. One ill-timed glance at his phone revealed a slew of texts from someone saved under the name “wifey.” The man then proceeded to point out all of your insecurities, no doubt comparing you to whoever that contact was. He ended up taking a “work call”, leaving the date early and making you responsible for the hefty bill. 

“That’s fine,” Sungho soothes. “He doesn’t deserve you, anyways. You are such a catch and he doesn’t even know what he’s missing.”

You sniffle slightly, finally moving from your position buried in Sungho’s shoulder. He smiles when the two of you make eye contact, using his thumb to wipe a few stray tears from your cheeks. You’re sure that you look a mess, face ruddy with your makeup in various states of disarray. But the way Sungho is smiling at you makes you feel like the most beautiful person in the world. 

“You’re just saying that because you’re my roommate,” you whisper. 

“I’m saying it because it’s true.”

A moment of silence lingers in the small space between the two of you, with the occasional hiccup interrupting your peace. Sungho’s gaze is too intense, peering into the depths of your eyes. For a moment, you find yourself getting lost in the eye contact, taking note of the deep hue of his irises. It’s only when you feel a slight fluttering in your chest that you snap out of it. 

“I’m going to go shower and get out of these clothes,” you say as you stand, mindful of the way your halter top shifts across your chest. “But maybe we can watch a movie after that?”

Sungho smiles softly. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

Something shifts between you and Sungho after that moment. 

It’s almost as if you’ve both unlocked a deeper level of comfort with each other, making physical contact in ways that you never had before. You spend your movie nights cuddling instead of sitting on opposite ends of the couch. You greet each other with hugs when either of you comes home, Sungho even going as far as to place a kiss on your cheek or forehead in friendly greeting. He’ll place a hand on your lower back as he passes by you in the kitchen, or squeeze your exposed thigh when the two of you are seated next to each other. 

You don’t think much of it, knowing that it’s nothing more than a few friendly touches between roommates. Sungho had seen you at a particularly vulnerable moment, and now seeks to comfort you. There’s nothing wrong with that! Roommates can hold hands in the grocery store and hug each other tightly after a long day. 

It’s how you find yourself snuggled up to Sungho’s side during a movie night, head leaning on his shoulder. It’s one of the few times that the two of you aren’t alone, surrounded by some of Sungho’s closest friends that you equally adore. They sit in various places strewn around the living room, leaving you and Sungho seated alone on the loveseat in the corner. 

About halfway through the movie, Woonhak complains about being hungry, causing a heated debate to erupt about what snacks everyone wanted. Through the commotion, you feel a set of sharp eyes on you. When you look to the side, you find Sanghyuk’s gaze trained on the points where you and Sungho are connected. It’s a simply observational gaze, his eyes holding no hint of judgment as he regards you. But, the intensity of his gaze makes your skin crawl. 

Under Sanghyuk’s scrutiny, you begin to peel yourself away from Sungho’s side. But before you can get far, a hand guides your head to lean back onto his shoulder. A quick glance upwards reveals that Sungho is still in the heated snack debate, not having blinked an eye at your movement. It’s almost as if he moved reflexively, not even having to think about drawing you closer. 

When you look back at Sanghyuk, the boy is smirking, simply rolling his eyes before he looks away. You try your best to fight the heat that is beginning to rise to your cheeks, to no avail. 

At some point between a new round of popcorn being distributed, and everyone settling back into their seats, you fall asleep. You have no idea how much time has passed as a soft hand shakes you awake. An ache overtakes your neck muscles as you straighten up, pulling back to see Sungho smiling down at you. A quick scan of the room reveals that it’s empty save for the two of you, causing you to cock an eyebrow in confusion. 

“Where’s everyone else?” You slur out, voice thick from sleep. 

“They left. It’s almost midnight, pumpkin.”

Pumpkin, that’s new. Your sleep addled brain doesn’t have the capacity to question it, simply nodding in understanding. 

“You should go to bed,” Sungho whispers, tucking a stray piece of hair away from your face. 

You nod, still not moving from your position on the couch. As your eyes flutter closed once again, you hear a soft chuckle. It’s enough to startle you back awake, not surprised to see a shy smile painting Sungho’s face. It’s impossible to not note how handsome he looks at the moment, long hair in disarray from leaning back on the couch and clad in a large sweatshirt. You imagine that he would be much cozier than your bed, but your mouth can’t quite part to form those syllables. 

“Come on,” Sungho says softly, dragging you up from the couch by the arm. “Let’s get you to bed.”

.         .         .

At some point, it becomes strange to not be greeted by Sungho the minute you enter your shared apartment, especially since you both have shared your schedules with each other. The man should be home, but your persistent calls of his name are met with nothing but silence as you toe off your shoes. Venturing further into the apartment still reveals no signs of life, a truly odd sight. 

You round a corner to step into the small hallway that leads deeper into the space, only to collide directly with a solid expanse of skin. A strong arm reaches out to steady you as you stumble backwards, keeping you firmly upright. Sungho’s eyes are wide when you meet his gaze, clearly flustered by your sudden appearance. 

“Shit, are you okay?”

You are unable to respond, too engrossed in scanning the view in front of you. Sungho’s entire torso is exposed, the man clearly having forgone a shirt. Wide shoulders taper into an impossibly small waist, leaving you swallowing thickly as you note the pair of basketball shorts hanging low on his hips. It’s clear that he has just showered, hair still dripping down onto his torso in clear rivulets. You find yourself watching as one slides down a firm pectoral, making a trail in one of the multiple divets in his abdomen, until it’s finally absorbed by the fabric of his shorts. 

You shake your head a bit, trying to snap out of it. It doesn’t help that Sungho is still grasping your upper arm, the strength in his hand obvious despite the gentle hold. Suddenly, your mouth feels arid, as if a sandy sediment has coated its surface and sucked up all of the moisture. You imagine that Sungho’s body is coated in enough water to quench your thirst. 

…wait…what??

“I’m fine,” you rush out, clearing your throat of its obvious thickness. “Sorry for bumping into you.”

Sungho just smiles softly, finally releasing his grip on your arm. “It’s all good. I felt bad that I wasn’t around when you got back. I thought I timed my shower well.”

“Don’t worry about it. Are you going somewhere?”

A slight flush rises to Sungho’s cheeks, the man ducking his head slightly. His hand comes up to scratch the back of his neck, allowing a few residual drops to fall from his hair. It’s odd to see Sungho be anything other than confident and bold, the sudden change catching you firmly off guard. 

“Yeah, I’m actually going to go hang out with this girl Daeun. She’s in my astronomy class so we’re going to the observatory a few towns over to do some constellation research.”

“Oh! That sounds…” surprisingly romantic… “Nice. That sounds really nice.”

Sungho chuckles, a sheepish smile taking over his face. “Yeah, I’m excited. Oh, let me finish getting ready! I might come to you for outfit advice, if that’s okay.”

You nod slowly, plastering a smile on your face. “Of course it is.”

Your chest feels tight as Sungho retreats, disappearing into his bedroom. As much as you try and ignore it, it continues to encompass you as you busy yourself with the latest episode of your favorite reality tv show. The pain doesn’t subside even as you try and immerse yourself in the latest drama. Instead, your face begins to heat and your palms begin to itch, almost as if craving to dig into something. Into what, you can’t quite determine, but you imagine it feels like milky smooth skin pulled taut over firm muscle. 

“How do I look?” Sungho asks with a little turn when he emerges from his room. 

Once again, you find yourself scanning his figure, taking in the way his jeans make his legs look impossibly long and how his shirt highlights the broadness of his shoulders. When the two of you first met, you used to joke about how Sungho needed to abandon his university endeavors to become a model. Times like now make it feel a little too real to be a joke. 

“Great,” you answer softly, ignoring the way your face burns. “You look great.”

Sungho looks absolutely giddy as he approaches the couch, leaning over to place a soft kiss on your forehead. The close proximity allows you to smell all the notes of his cologne, a scent that you have gotten used to transferring onto your clothes after every tight hug and cuddle session. The tightness in your chest returns, but this time it burns. 

“Thanks, pumpkin. I’ll be home late, so don’t wait up.”

Despite the man’s warning, you can’t find it in yourself to fall asleep. Instead, you remain awake in your bed, tossing and turning every few moments. Eventually, your body tires out, allowing you to slowly drift into slumber. If you dream of the mellow scent of sea salt and water droplets sliding across skin, that’s no one’s business but your own. 

.          .          .

The two of you part with a hug, Sungho gently pecking your forehead before heading off to his own class. You can’t fight the soft smile gracing your face as you approach your own building, your friend waiting for you near the entrance. 

Minji looks thoroughly perplexed as you approach, eyebrows drawn together in clear confusion. “Was that your boyfriend?”

The question makes you choke on your iced coffee, beginning to double over as a fit of coughs wrack your body. Minji doesn’t even flinch at your dilemma, still staring at the spot where you and Sungho had previously stood. 

“Holy shit, no!” You exclaim through a slew of coughs. “He’s just my roommate.”

The two of you move to enter the building, but Minji’s confused gaze remains firmly locked on you. 

“You’re joking, right?”

“What? No!” You emphasize as you slide into your seat. “Sungho is really just my roommate.”

“Then why do you guys do…,” Minji makes a vague gesture with her hands, “that?”

“You mean hug?”

“And kiss!” Minji’s voice drops to a whisper as the professor announces the start of his lecture. “I mean, if I had anyone treating me like that, I would definitely think we’re dating.”

You roll your eyes. “We are not dating!”

Minji just looks you up and down, lips curling into a soft smirk. “Does he know that?”

Any retort you have dies instantly in your throat. He does know that. You and Sungho have never been anything other than roommates, close roommates, but roommates nonetheless. The friendship that you have developed via sharing a space will always be nothing more than just that. Besides, he’s clearly seeing that girl Daeun from astronomy, right?

The amalgamation of thoughts about your non-relationship with Sungho distracts you throughout your entire lecture. Before you know it, your professor is dismissing you and you frown at your notebook, empty save for the date scribbled in the top right corner. You bid Minji a goodbye, reminding yourself to text her later for the notes. 

As you exit the lecture hall, a familiar figure makes you stop in your tracks. Sungho’s silhouette is bathed golden by the mid afternoon sun, giving him a cherubian glow. His head is tilted back in laughter, hand covering his mouth. It’s not uncommon to see Sungho lost in laughter, but you wonder who could have him so giddy this time, especially since Jaehyun is nowhere to be seen. 

And that’s when you see her. 

She’s pretty, unbelievably so. Long dark hair cascades past her shoulders, falling down to her trim waist. Her rounded eyes are emphasized by the slight shimmer of gold eyeshadow, full cheeks painted delicately with blush. Her smile is powerful, rivaling the sunshine that covers the green. The worst part is that she looks so good next to Sungho, as if they were a proper couple. So this is the Daeun that Sungho took to go see the stars. 

A hot feeling blooms in your chest, forcing you to avert your eyes. It makes sense, of course, that Daeun would be gorgeous and Sungho would be smitten with her. It’s only right that Sungho would have a partner equally as amazing as he is. 

So why aren’t you happy for him? Why does your chest burn and why do your eyes sting? Why is there a lump in your throat that feels excruciatingly painful to swallow down? Why are your palms growing clammy despite the early springtime breeze cooling you to your core?

You push your spiral of thoughts to the side, letting your legs carry you away from the green as fast as possible. It’s impossible to focus on where you’re going, letting your body move on autopilot. It’s only when a familiar warmth and the smell of pastries overcome you that you exhale for the first time in what feels like forever. You breathe in the smell of freshly brewed coffee and exhale with a smile. 

“Y/N?” A voice calls from the register. “What are you doing here?”

You’ve always mentioned that Donghyun looks particularly cute in his work attire. His hair is kept back off his face with a visor, the brim of which is shaped like a fishtail. His aquamarine apron is tied tight around his waist, covered in stains from the busy shift he likely had. Even the glittery name tag pinned to his apron suits him, matching the overeager sparkle in his eye. 

“I just wanted to stop by for some coffee.”

Donghyun cocks an eyebrow at you before scanning the practically empty cafe. “It’s 4pm.”

“I know, but I just need a pick-me-up.”

There’s another moment of silence as Donghyun regards you. With the minimum chatter from cafe-goers, the silence almost feels awkward, Donghyun clearly pondering something before he chooses to reply. After a moment, he simply shrugs. 

“Alright, but I’m giving you half-caf! I honestly don’t feel like brewing an entire new pot of regular.”

In mere minutes, you’re sitting alone at a table by the window, a steaming mug warming your fingers. You choose to ignore the concerned glances that Donghyun shoots you from behind the coffee bar. He would probably ask about what’s bothering you, since you’re sure your crisis is painted all over your face. But that’s the exact problem—you have no idea what your crisis is. 

So what if Sungho has a new girl that he’s been seeing? It’s not like that affects you in any way. If anything, it’s expected, with his round eyes and overly caring nature. You’re sure most people 

would swoon at the mellow tone of his voice or at how quick he is to laugh at a joke. No one is immune to falling for the way he’s hyper-attentive as he listens or the way he squeezes a tad bit harder right before he’s about to release someone from a hug. 

So you’re not surprised at all that someone has fallen for Sungho, especially someone so pretty. It’s expected. So why does it hurt?

Once again, you force the question out of your mind, letting out a groan as you lean your head into your hands. The steam rising from the mug begins to heat your cheeks as you stare into it, warming you up in a way that you didn’t know you needed. Despite the burn in your chest and your clammy hands, it feels like the rest of your body is frozen over, forced to malfunction at the thought of Sungho and his new lover. 

Oh shit. You’re jealous. 

Your stomach twists and turns at the newfound revelation. It makes sense, of course, that you would fall for Sungho just like everyone else. He’s the epitome of a perfect gentleman. And with the constant touches, it’s hard not to crave that little something more. What would those ever so soft lips feel like against your own instead of your forehead or cheek?

But he has made it clear where he stands. Sungho is your roommate, no matter how much you crave for him to be more. He has Daeun. He chose Daeun. It should be easy to accept, but the swirling feeling in your gut says otherwise. 

You don’t know how long you spend in the cafe, letting time pass aimlessly as you remain lost in your thoughts. It’s only when your phone vibrates with a text that you are snapped back into reality. You don’t even have to look at it to know who it is, likely wondering about your whereabouts. After all, you’re usually home by this time, freshly showered and cuddled up with him as you chat over takeout. 

With another groan, you grab your stuff, taking your time to collect your belongings and shoot Donghyun an appreciative smile. He nods in return, shooting you a thumbs up that you’re sure is supposed to be a wish of good luck. 

He doesn’t even know how much you’ll need it. 

.         .         .

Meeting Daeun is even more tortuous than seeing her from afar. She’s even prettier up close, with a blinding smile and fluttering eyelashes. However, her beauty isn’t what strikes you the most. It’s how she’s hugging Sungho in the middle of your doorway that leaves you shocked. 

She’s clearly just saying goodbye, Sungho trapping her in one of his notorious hugs before she leaves. The sight has you frozen in place nonetheless, the grocery bag you were carrying now hanging lower in your slackened grip. Sungho seems to sense your presence as the two release from their hug, eyes lighting up as he sees you standing beyond the doorway. 

“Y/N! I didn’t know you’d be home so early,” he beams. “This is Daeun, my research partner.”

“Oh, this is Y/N?” The woman questions, shooting you a soft smile. “Nice to meet you.”

You force yourself to return the smile, although you’re sure yours comes out awkward with a hint of confusion. “You too.”

There’s a thick silence that ensues as Daeun regards the two of you. Her gaze flickers between you and Sungho a few times before she lets out a small chuckle, as if she knows something you don’t. At least you feel like you’re one step ahead of her, knowing that something’s going on between her and Sungho. You just didn’t quite expect to see it so clearly.

“Well I’m going to get going,” Daeun sings. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Sungho. Nice to meet you again, Y/N.”

The woman disappears down the hallway with a little wave, ponytail swaying behind her with every step. The minute she’s out of sight, Sungho moves forward, relieving you of the grocery bag that is basically on the floor at this point. He holds the door as you take slow steps forward, finally forcing your body to enter the apartment. As you slide off your shoes, Sungho ruffles your hair before moving to unpack the groceries. 

“So,” you begin, sitting on the countertop next to where Sungho is fussing over the various fruits that you had bought. “She’s cute.”

Sungho shoots you a confused look. “I mean, I guess.”

“You guess? Isn’t she like your girlfriend or something? I feel like you should think she’s cute.”

“Woah,” Sungho chuckles. “Where did you get that from?”

“What?”

“That she’s my girlfriend? She’s literally just my partner for my research project.”

You shrug, trying not to oogle the breadth of Sungho’s shoulders as he leans down to place an egg carton in the fridge.

“I just thought you two were close. And you look kinda cute together,” you mumble, beginning to swing your legs where they hang over the edge of the counter. 

Sungho stares at you incredulously. “Ummm…okay, I guess. She’s not really my type, though.”

“Really?” You hate the way your voice comes out in a rush of excitement. “I mean, um, I’m surprised. Like I said, you two look cute together.”

In the blink of an eye, Sungho is standing before you, slowly making space for himself in the vee of your legs. His palm is warm as he places it on your knee, right on top of the rip in your jeans. The new proximity has you leaning back a bit, only to be stopped by the wall behind you. You find yourself going a little cross eyed at the closeness, trying your hardest to maintain eye contact. Sungho just smiles, squeezing your knee softly.

“I mean it,” he mumbles. “I already have my eye on someone else, pumpkin.”

It feels as if the distance between the both of you is getting smaller by the second, some sort of invisible pull bringing you closer. At the last minute, Sungho leans upward, letting his lips gently peck your forehead. The warm sensation on your skin lingers, even as Sungho pulls back to shoot you another smile. 

“Welcome home, by the way.”

The man then retreats as if nothing happened, going back to unpacking the groceries. You don’t dare move from your position, heart still hammering in your chest. It takes a moment before you are able to exhale, your breath coming out short and shaky. If it weren’t for the stability of the counter underneath you, you’re sure you would have fallen over. It makes you wonder if Sungho would’ve caught you if you had. 

“So, what do you want to do for dinner?” Sungho calls over his shoulder, shooting you a small smile. “I’m really in the mood for sushi.”

.         .         .

You impatiently rap your knuckles against the heavy door in front of you, shifting your weight from foot to foot. Never before had you felt this sense of urgency, limbs feeling jittery with every passing moment that you spend standing still. It’s enough anxiety to have you running a marathon, and even then, you swear you would still have some anxious energy left. However, the minute that a confused face opens the door, you feel a bit of the tension leave your body. 

“Y/N?”

You smile sheepishly. “Hi, Sanghyuk. I need your help.”

You’ve always found Sanghyuk and Jaehyun’s shared apartment to be extremely homely. The two of them have arrays of stuffed animals and trinkets in every corner of the home, along with an assortment of fuzzy blankets in every nook and cranny. It’s cozy and calm, especially with the way it’s never quite silent. Usually Jaehyun is the culprit, either joking and laughing loudly or playing some music to set the vibe. 

But even now, as it’s just you and Sanghyuk in the space, the cozy feeling is amplified. You’re wrapped up in one of his fleece Pokémon blankets, cocooning yourself in warmth. It’s quiet for a moment, Sanghyuk never pushing you to speak before you’re ready. After a few deep breaths, you finally feel ready to open up. 

“I think I like Sungho.”

You expect something to shift in the moment, maybe for Sanghyuk to squeal in surprise or for the world to stop turning for a bit. But it’s nothing like that. Instead, Sanghyuk just continues to look at you, a neutral expression coloring his face. 

“Okay,” he murmurs softly. “Tell me more.”

And you do. It’s easy to confide in Sanghyuk, with his soft smiles and solemn nods. He listens as you pour your heart out, explaining everything from the first bit of physical contact after your shitty date to meeting Daeun in the apartment. As every piece of the story comes out, you feel your chest begin to grow lighter. 

“And now I’m here because I don’t know what to do.”

Sanghyuk just hums, clearly pondering your words before he speaks. “Well, are you going to tell him?”

“I can’t!” You all but whine, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “He’s just going to pity me and reject me and then it’s going to be weird when we have to see each other all the time. I mean, we live together.”

“What makes you so sure that any of these things are going to happen?”

“I don’t know.”

Sanghyuk shrugs. “Exactly, you don’t know. So what’s the harm in trying?”

You can’t help but groan, head beginning to pound at the mere thought of telling him how you feel. “But what if he hates me?”

“And what if he loves you?” 

What if Sungho loves you?

It’s hard to imagine, but for a moment you get a glimpse of what that would be like. Forehead kisses would trail down to meet your lips instead of just stopping there. Cuddles and hugs could turn into more meaningful touches. A hand on the waist would be a show of belonging, not just a hint of guidance. The man that you want would finally be yours. 

“I’m scared, Sanghyuk.”

The man across from you sighs, beginning to pick at the corner of his own blanket. “I know, but you’ll never know if you don’t try.”

“And Daeun?”

“Has Sungho ever lied to you?” Sanghyuk cocks an eyebrow when you shake your head no. “Exactly. You have no reason to believe he isn’t telling you the truth.”

You know that he’s right, just like he always is. It’s just hard to ditch the niggling feeling in the back of your brain that there’s something you don’t know. The glint in Daeun’s eyes and the surprise in Sungho’s had to have meant something. It had to. 

“I know that, but I just need to hear it. Can you please be 100% honest with me?” You ask softly, eyes firmly fixed on Sanghyuk. 

“I always am.”

“Does Sungho have a thing for Daeun?”

Sanghyuk chuckles. “No. Like he said, he has his eye on someone else.”

The phrase bounces around your head the entire walk home. Someone else could be anyone. It could be another person in his research class or one of his gym companions. It could be that one really cute guy that works at Donghyun’s cafe. It could be anyone. It could be you. 

As you unlock your apartment door, you’re greeted with the familiar sight of Sungho wiping down the kitchen counters. It’s a little thing he does, constantly cleaning and tidying to the point that it’s almost motherly. But his habit is endearing, especially as he scrunches his nose while scrubbing at a particularly stubborn stain. 

The minute he looks up, though, any trace of tension is gone from his face, melting into a soft smile. He’s quick to abandon the cloth he was using, approaching you with wide arms. The hug that he engulfs you in is all too tight, but you find it freeing rather than suffocating. However, the breath leaves your lungs when Sungho places a soft kiss on your forehead. 

“Welcome home, pumpkin,” he coos softly.

As you two part, you can’t help but stand frozen in place, a warm rush flooding your body. If Sungho notices, he doesn’t show it, choosing instead to go back to cleaning. Before you can stop it, the warmth travels upward, escaping your body before you can catch it. 

“I want you to mean it.”

The short phrase makes Sungho stop, turning back to you with a confused furrow in his brow. “Mean what?”

As much as you want to race to retract your words, Sanghyuk’s voice echoes in your mind. Someone else, you remind yourself. It could be you. You take a deep breath. 

“When you kiss me,” you explain, squeezing your eyes shut as embarrassment begins to color your cheeks. “I know it’s just on the forehead or cheek, but I want you to mean it.”

Sungho makes a confused little noise. “But I do mean it.”

“Not in the way that I want you to. Not in the way that I mean it.”

The silence that overcomes the room makes time tick by ever so slowly. What are mere seconds feel like hours as the two of you simply stand in the hallway, neither of you daring to say a word. Even though your eyes are closed, you can tell Sungho is shifting his weight back and forth, the motion making the floorboards creak slightly. 

“Y/N, I need to understand. How exactly do you want me to mean it?”

Somehow, the question gives you the energy to open your eyes, instantly sweeping them over Sungho’s form. The white tee shirt he wears is marred with splotches of water, likely from his earlier time cleaning. His hands are calloused as they run through his hair, grip permanently rough from spending too much time at the gym. There’s a bit of redness around his temples from what looks like the beginning of a blemish. He’s stunning like this. 

“I want you to like me the way I like you.”

Sungho’s confused expression deepens. “And what way is that?”

“Like more than a friend or roommate. I want you to like me romantically.”

The laugh that Sungho lets out comes as a surprise. It even surprises the man itself, it seems, based on the way he instantly covers his mouth with his hands. His eyes have grown wider in shock, gaze uncertain as it remains locked on you. But soon that all melts away, replaced with a subtle smirk. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just—who says I don’t already?”

The apartment seems to shrink around the two of you, compressing all of the air in the room. Even the hallway feels tighter, invisibly drawing you and Sungho closer together. It’s as if there was a shift in the space, in your space. 

“B-but, Daeun?” You manage to stutter out, trying to ignore the way that the walls are pressing in on you, forcing you closer to Sungho. 

It seems that your roommate is feeling similar effects, slowly stumbling towards you as well. 

“I told you,” he mumbles softly. “She’s just my research partner. I like someone else. Y/N, I like you.”

The apartment shrinks a little more.

“You do?”

Sungho nods, smiling sheepishly. “I have for like, two years now. I mean, I tried to show you! Why else would I be all over you like that?”

“Because you’re a touchy person?” You question, not sounding too convinced of yourself. 

“Because I like you, pumpkin.”

The space is finally completely compressed, you and Sungho now standing toe to toe. He feels so much broader like this, taking up his fair share of the newly tiny space. It’s dizzying to be pressed so close together, even though it’s far from the first time. Once again, you find that it’s freeing rather than suffocating.

“I thought you were just being a really good roommate.”

Sungho chuckles, the sound vibrating through both of your bodies. The closeness allows him to easily wrap an arm around your waist, his free hand tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He lets his hand trail downward, cupping your cheek. 

“I don’t think really good roommates would do this.”

As much as you have felt Sungho’s lips on your face, the feeling of him pressing a kiss to your mouth feels utterly foreign. His lips are made soft from his constant use of peach chapstick, rivaling your own soft pucker. The kiss is both just as quick and equally as gentle as his pecks to your forehead. When he pulls away, you can’t stop the small whine that escapes you. 

Your eyes flutter open, trying to tamp down the immediate feeling of embarrassment that floods your core. You don’t seem to be the only one, though, with Sungho’s cheeks taking on their own rosy hue. For a moment, the two of you are silent, letting the apartment around you expand and contract with every breath you take. 

“Sungho,” you whisper. 

It’s all it takes for Sungho to instantly reconnect his lips to yours, this time kissing you deeper. The hand around your waist pulls you impossibly closer, leaving no room between your bodies. It gives Sungho the leverage to lean over you slightly, letting his lips capture yours again and again. The feeling is dizzying. Never has Sungho’s touch electrified you so much. 

When you finally pull away, heavy panting fills the silence between you. It takes Sungho a moment to open his eyes, finally staring back at you with dark eyes. It’s different from the Sungho you’re so used to seeing, playful and easygoing. Instead, this Sungho desires. 

“So,” you can’t help but ask. “This means you don’t like Daeun, right?”

“Holy shit,” Sungho curses before breaking out into laughter.

His chuckles shatter the moment, both hands dropping down to his sides. It’s endearing to watch how his nose scrunches and his eyes squeeze shut. But honestly, you don’t know what is so funny. 

“Y/N, pumpkin,” Sungho begins in between chuckles. “Daeun has a girlfriend.”

Oh.

.FIN.

Higuruma Hiromi x reader<3 (nsfw)

hiromi likes girls (his gf) who are a little (very) mean to him. CANON I ASKED GEGE.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Higuruma stands in the doorway of your bedroom, Hes been staring at you for a good while now, even before you noticed.

Looking at how your little dress hugs your pretty body.

you wave a hand infront of his face.

“whats up with you today…freak,” you say and laugh at him, the corner of his mouth tugs a little before going back to his usual, blank face.

“i cant look at whats mine? hm?” he says smoothly and plays with a strand of your hair.

“urgh,” you roll your eyes and turn away from him. You know he loves it, when you act like a little spoiled princess.

he grabs your arm and pull you back to him softly. He looks into your eyes again, something else than adoration behind them this time.

“hirom-“

“i thought about what you said,”

huh?

you look at him in question.

He smirks a little before speaking, “you know….about my nose,”

A couple days ago he’d told you how he used to hate his nose when he was younger. You’d frowned and taken his face in your pretty manicured hands and told him it was one of your favorite things about his appearance. It had made his heart swell in his chest, and he’d hugged you so tight right after telling you to ‘shut up and stop lying’

And he’d thought about it ever since, couldnt get it out of his head. And now he knew why.

He takes your jaw in his huge hand and brings your face up to look at him,

“if you like my nose so much, why dont you sit on it princess?” he tells you, looking into your eyes and pulling you closer by your waist.

Your eyes widen, and you blush while trying to push him away.

“stop saying things like that,” you look away from his eyes and he frowns.

“look at me baby,”

You reluctantly look at him again, the way he looks at you hungrily makes you ache.

“you telling me you dont want to?” He whispers to you, and you know he would drop it as soon as you say the word.

But you stay silent, looking away from him again. And he knows youre too shy to say it. so innocent. He wants to make you cry and shake on top of him.

He sighs and goes to pull away from you, but before he can get too far you grab him by the collar, nodding your head.

“yeah?” he asks. you nod again.

he smiles widely at you, before licking his lips and speaking,

“take this off,” he says as he plays with the hem of your dress.

His eyes scan over your body while you undress, his mouth watering. And when you finally stand infront of him, looking up at him with your pretty eyes, only wearing your panties, He picks you up by your thighs suddenly, And you yelp in surprise. He takes you to the bed, laying down with you now sitting on his chest.

You stare at eachother for a while before he speaks again,

“come on….wanna drown in your little pussy,”

Hes so nasty.

“dont worry you will, im gonna shut you up for once,” you say with a look of distaste, he knows your body is betraying you, with how big the wet spot on your panties has gotten.

you sit up on your knees, sliding down your underwear slowly, teasing him.

“mmm there she is,” he groans when he sees your pussy, slick with your arousal.

“youre so annoying,”

“sit on my face baby,”

you huff and sit down again on his chest, grinding your naked pussy on him. He groans loudly.

“fuck….you want me to beg? is that it sweetheart? hm?”

He breathes heavily, a desperate look on his face, and his hips buck behind you, trying to relieve himself a little.

You nod and wait for him, and when he opens his mouth to speak, reaching out to touch your waist, you slap his hand away.

“no touching,” you say with a serious face.

he almost cries. “evil…evil little girl,” fuck why wont you just let him have you, but he knows that you know he loves this. loves his pretty girlfriend being mean to him.

you take pity on him, you tell yourself, when you sit up on your knees, moving so that your pussy is hovering over his face. But really you know you cant wait anymore, you need to ride his handsome face.

“fuck yes…please baby, sit,” He groans under you.

you place yourself right on his mouth, his nose grazing your clit. He moans loudly into you, his hand going to rub himself so he doesnt loose his mind.

He rubs his face into you, licking and sucking on your cunt. You mewl and cry over him and he looks up at you, Smirking into your pussy.

You grab his hair then, grinding yourself down on him, riding his nose.

He babbles under you, probably filthy things. But his mouth is full, so all you hear is his muffled voice speaking into your soaked pussy.

He loves when you use him like this, and the way you look on top of him, fucking his face, its too much and not enough at the same time.

“fuck…use me princess,” He manages to get out in between eating you “cum on my face…”

You whine.

“fuck….” You shake and cry over him, cumming all over his drooling mouth. He keeps licking at you, trying to get every drop of cum. He groans, pulling away from you.

He looks so fucked out, his whole face is wet and his hair is messy, a dopey smile on his face.

You almost pass out, falling off him and onto the bed. He smiles and goes to lay on top of you, cradling your face in his hands.

“i need to change my boxers,” he says.

“of course you do,”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

IDK IF I LIKE THIS UM. anyways i hope u guys like it atleast >_<

i havent gotten to his intruduction in the manga yet i know nothing about this man except for that hes a lawyer and hes sexy

"don't you think you should say thank you to me?" chigiri watches as your eyes light up and you grab the popsicle in his hand, shoving it into your mouth like it'll disappear if you don't consume it immediately.

you roll your eyes, ice balancing on your tongue. "i ask you to buy me one thing-"

"a kiss will do, you know." he arches his eyebrows at you, waving his matching popsicle in the air. "i'm not picky."

"you think you're so smooth, don't you? don't your friends call you princess? no wonder you want a kiss."

chigiri smirks at that. "can't be a princess when i'm with you, then there'd be two of us, and then who'll buy your popsicles?"

you look at him like he's just given you a new fear, so adoringly sweet that he brings you in close with a laugh.

"besides," he tilts your hair back over your shoulder, fingertips gently brushing against your neck. "i'm not the kind to just lie down and take it. a girl like you though…"

you shove him, your face heating up, but your hand meets hard muscle and he doesn't budge, just smiles wickedly.

hype boy.

PAIRING ▸ slytherin! niki x gryffindor! reader

GENRE ▸ hogwarts! au, rivalry! au, e2ls, romance, angst, fluff, humor

SUMMARY ▸ you and niki supposedly hate each other’s guts, everyone knows. slytherin vs. gryffindor, green vs. red, no one can break you two apart- except when a night on the quidditch field may prove otherwise.

WORD COUNT ▸ 4.7k

AKA (un)fortunately for you, niki is indeed your hype boy. 

NOTES ▸ mentions of hospitals, slight injuries, kissing, food, not proofread ???

part of the charms and chasers miniseries.

“MOVE YOUR BIG HEAD.”  

you hiss at the boy in front of you, hand gripping your quill tight in frustration. 

your number one nemesis, rival, enemy, whatever you wanted to call him because you had plenty more demeaning options, just so happened to sit right in front of you in transfiguration. 

he whips his head around, sending you a cocky smile before sitting up even straighter and completely blocking your view of the professor. you groan in annoyance. ever since niki hit his growth spurt last year and shot up, he had been more irritating than ever. it’s like he had another one-up on you, which wasn’t fair at all that he got such good height genes. and with that glow up of his came attention from girls. not that you cared, but having his ego inflated even more didn’t make it any better for you. 

sure, most girls fawned over him and his so called charming personality- something you didn’t understand, even since the day you met him back on hogwarts express your first year. 

it was a cloudy day and you just so happened to be slightly late. okay, maybe extremely late. besides getting an earful from your parents, you scrambled onto the train and into the first compartment you could find. said compartment coincidentally housed niki. 

he didn’t try to even hide the annoyed once over he sent your way. at that time, you understood his reaction and meekly apologized before asking for a seat. but throughout the ride, as your friendly attempts to make conversation with the young boy were instantly blocked by snide remarks and lowkey insults, your disdain began to grow. 

and when the sorting hat declared you in gryffindor and niki in slytherin, you remember the look you two exchanged on the way to your respective tables. it was a challenge. and it lasted for years. 

two super stubborn and competitive students, always wanting to be better than the other, called for a rivalry. nothing else mattered- just the outcome, just the winner. 

it had always been that way. you vs. niki, niki vs. you. always sporting the typical gryffindor vs. slytherin and red vs. green. as the years went on, the rivalry only continued. you hated his cockiness, rudeness, snarkiness. you hated every -ness and every point to the finest detail about nishimura riki. the same could only be said for him, because why else would he continue his arguing and pranking against you for no reason?

you thought about that day a lot, what you did that made him dislike you. and then you wondered why you were wasting time thinking about the raven haired boy, slapping your cheek to get out of it. didn’t matter, didn’t care. 

so what if niki and you were bound enemies? he, his newfound handsomeness, and his big head could go get smacked by the weeping willow. 

he wasn’t even that cute. 

“you okay, y/n?” you snap out of your thoughts, glancing over to your seat mate. jay seems concerned, giving you a questioning look as you shake your head. 

“it’s nothing. i just can’t see what the professor’s doing,” you whisper back. nodding in response, jay passes his notebook over to you as you thank him with a grateful smile. you eye the humongous head in front of you.

you seriously consider flipping the bird at him, and by that you mean procuring a real bird and flinging it the back of niki’s head. 

monday. lunchtime. 

the only thing you can remember is niki turning the mint chocolate chip ice cream you were eating into actual toothpaste. and then proceeding to make fun of you in front of the whole school for your affinity for the flavor. 

“who knew y/n would resort to eating toothpaste just to fix their stinky breath?”

rolling your eyes, you slam your spoon on the table. a few people are laughing, others are disapproving (for your taste preferences or the prank, you’re not sure). most were unaffected because after all, it was you and niki. 

you squint at him and he shrugs nonchalantly in response. 

it doesn’t take long for you to transform his water into mouthwash and watch with relish as he chokes and splutters. eyes wide, he can only watch as you innocently bat your own eyes at him, pocketing your wand with satisfaction. 

meanwhile all of your friends and his barely take a second glance, used to your shenanigans. 

tuesday. 

niki mentions a grass stain on your robes- which obviously leads to an argument midclass. why the world decided to give you four out of seven classes with niki (mainly back to back), you wish you knew. 

“maybe because some people have such dedication to their sport and it obviously pays off,” you drawl. 

niki’s nostrils flare in annoyance. you knew how riled up he got when you mentioned quidditch. 

he quickly raises a hand over his eyes, pretending to search for something over the top of your head. 

“did somebody just say something? i swear i just heard-“

you huff, fire in your eyes.

“how long are you going to keep doing that? it’s getting old, really.”

he scoffs while crossing his arms over his chest. 

“old? what about that time-“

you hear an aggressive clearing of the throat and you both falter. your professor narrows his eyes at the two of you. finally, you quite down. but it isn’t over yet. 

when you leave class, he sends you a look that means just wait until later. 

you and niki always seemed to find each other in the hallway, it was like your eyes were automatically accustomed to doing so. it was a habit- finding him the moment you entered a room or any space. his presence was so invoking, so invoking that it called for you to meet his eyes. another challenge. 

whenever you shared eye contact, even for a split second, the game would begin. every sneakily side-eye, disdainful look, infuriated glare. nasty words and insults spewed across the room without even moving your lips.  

today he leaves with a corner of his mouth tilted up, like he knew something you didn’t. 

you swear, his trademark smirk that some girls literally swoon over are in your nightmares. 

the only one up you had over niki was on the quidditch field- which obviously your rivalry continued there too. you were proud to say gryffindor’s winning record over slytherin this season was 4-1 (you had to admit the thought of beating niki made you train extra hard during practice).

when you get on the field that evening, you sigh and look at the list. 

practice match: gryffindor vs. slytherin. 

that explains niki’s reaction. 

you crack your knuckles. no biggie. 

as swift and sneaky niki was, you knew all of his tricks. he could read you, and you could read him, but just a little bit better. 

you go onto the field, joining your teammates. again, niki catches your eye and you study him. what was he planning? 

when the whistle blows, you shoot up into the air. scanning the field from above, you rush towards the first sign of movement you see and grab the quaffle with ease. 

your path to the hoops is open, that is, until a green flash cuts in front of you. 

you grit your teeth as your broom immediately halts. so this is the kind of game he wants to play. 

every time you had the ball, niki would somehow find his way in front of you. you would constantly swerve and avoid him as best as you could, but he would always find a way to block you from their goal. 

all of a sudden, you flip around, heading towards your own team’s goal. shouts of confusion fill the air, and you can physically feel niki behind you, right on your tail. 

wait. 

you see the goalpost, the sight of it getting larger and larger as you close in on the distance. although confused, the slytherin behind you continues his pursuit. 

a little more. 

you hear yells of your name, clamoring and chaos. you instead tune them out and focus. 

now. 

right as you’re about to go through the middle goal, you suddenly lift your broom and flip upside down, heading back the opposite way to the right goal. niki is forced to make an abrupt stop and turn around so he doesn’t run into the goal. 

niki was the only one who could keep up with your speed and without him in your way, it’s free sailing past all the other slower players to slytherin’s goal. easily, you score and your teammates cheer on. 

niki finally catches up with a shake of his head. “are you sure you didn’t get put into the wrong house?” he calls out, swerving around on his broom. 

you smirk, a glint in your eyes. “i don’t know, did i?” 

your bickering doesn’t stop, even when you get off the field. he follows you as your teams watch in amusement (and certain female spectators in jealousy, which you ignore pointedly).

wednesday. 

you enter the great hall with minji and leeseo, excitedly discussing your upcoming match against slytherin. 

“it’s almost time for me to kick niki’s butt again,” you cross your arms with a content sigh. 

minji shakes her head, “what’s the record so far?” 

you shoot her a grin, dancing playfully, “soon to be five to one.” 

leeseo raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, but before she can say something, you notice her eyes trail off into the distance. 

“what?” you frown, “what is it?” 

they step back and in the midst of chattering students, you frown and turn around- 

only to be met face to face with jisung, a seventh year in your house. 

“h-hey, y/n…” he starts off nervously. 

you gulp, not liking where the conversation was heading. jisung was a kind and shy upperclassman that you met through your friend minji who was also a seventh year. you had only had a couple interactions with him, so his sudden encounter was puzzling. 

“hey jisung. did you need something?”

he scratches his head, and you suddenly become self conscious of the few surrounding eyes falling on you two. 

jisung mumbles something along the lines of your time but you couldn’t quite catch it. 

“what?” you step closer to hear him and if anything, he physically reddens. 

“are you free this weekend?” he says a little too loud for comfort, avoiding your gaze. 

you tense. 

if anyone truly knows you, they know that although you’re a gryffindor, you hate public confrontations. you hate anything that deals with your personal feelings in front of other people, in front of strangers. you know it doesn’t make sense, especially with all your public fights with niki. you don’t know why but you just hate the thought of everyone knowing your private business. 

arguing with niki was a norm, you were used to it and had been for years. but romance? you honestly had no clue how to deal with that and now that you were pressured to give jisung an answer in front of everyone made it even worse. 

silence falls upon you and for some reason, in that split second, you catch niki’s eye some feet away. you’re surprised to see him already watching you, but in the moment that isn’t the most looming thing on your mind. niki stands there with an unreadable expression and your eyes quickly flick away. 

“jisung- well,” you pause, aggressively chewing on your lip. trying to formulate your thoughts quick enough to not make an awkward silence between you and him was extremely difficult. 

the situation feels overwhelming, so you pick at your robes. his expectant eyes on you, your friends still watching from behind, you feel as if everyone’s gaze was judging you immensely- silently screaming at you to give an answer.

all of a sudden, you feel a cold sensation crash over you. gasping and spluttering, you wipe your eyes to see yourself (and the floor around you) completely soaked. your robes dripping, hair flat, you whip around. 

gasps and murmurs erupt around you and ask if you’re okay. you ignore them. 

all you see is a glimpse of green robes flying out the door and past the corner. you stomp angrily after niki.  

your shoes squelching, you cringe. it isn’t hard for you to catch up with him, yelling out an disdainful, “hey! big head!”

you clench your fists together as he turns around slowly like a robber caught by the police. 

“what was that for?” 

you wring out your sleeves, flinging the wetness at him. in your outrage and confusion, you begin spewing out baseless words. "are you just mad that i’m the one getting attention from other people now? are you that jealous that you‘re not special anymore?“

his mischievous demeanor suddenly changes. niki looks serious, and maybe even upset? you’ve never seen him like this and it makes you falter. 

his gaze bores into you. 

“why do you automatically assume i’m a horrible person? why do you always think i have the worst intentions? is it because i’m a slytherin, because that’s just-“

“of course not!” 

“then why do you always fight with me about everything?” a hand runs through his hair, “i saw you were clearly uncomfortable with that jisung guy so i tried to, i dunno- divert the attention away.”  

silence fills the air. the only thing is the sound of your clothes still dripping water onto the floors. for the first time, you don’t have a comeback. 

niki was right. sure, dumping water on you was a bit harsh, but his intentions weren’t bad. niki, your proclaimed enemy, was trying to help you. 

the whole time everything you did or said to niki was in defense. because his words always got to you and you needed to build up a wall to protect yourself. to prove yourself that anything niki did wouldn’t affect you. 

even if it wasn’t serious when you were younger, you realized your fighting with niki became a whole different matter. 

niki waits and waits for you to respond, but you only stand there quietly to reflect. with a worried expression, he comes closer to inspect you. 

he brings a warm hand to your face, examining you with wide eyes. “did i do something wrong? did the water hurt you?” 

for a second you’re so shocked you can’t move (or process the dumb question- it was water for goodness sake). then the warmth begins to flood into you and you push him away. 

“w-what are you doing?!” you yelp, flustered. 

his actions must’ve hit him at that moment because he freezes. you mirror each other with embarrassed gazes. 

his mouth opens and closes repeatedly. you blink. 

“i- you, we just-“ 

instead of holding a proper conversation like normal people, once you hear the door to the great hall open for kids to get to their next classes, you and niki both bolt in opposite directions, sporting angry blushes that others figure it was due to a heavy argument. 

you don’t know why. you honestly have no clue. but after that day, you managed to apologize and kindly reject jisung (someone you respected but truthfully held no affection for) and travel back in time. 

back in time meaning every memory of interactions with niki. you were just being immature- holding onto long time grudges and insecurities. 

you know you had a lot of history with niki. but maybe you should try to see things from his point of view. maybe you both needed to grow up and realize the truth. 

for the first time, you and niki acknowledge each other in the halls with a nod. for the first time, the classrooms and quidditch field are quiet without your constant bickering. for the first time, you and niki (kind of) get along. 

besides the unspoken situation that happened between you and niki, you attempted to be kinder to him. and so did he. 

well, for the most part. 

“pass me the vial,” you call out to niki and he turns around. 

when you reach out to take it, he jerks his hand away and you huff, glaring at him. niki simply grins before handing you the vial. and that was it. 

while the two of you work absentmindedly, the rest of the class (including the professor) watches you with jaws dropped. 

you pack up and head out of class, stopping when you hear a call of your name behind you. 

leeseo stomps over, and your eyebrows raise. 

“hey, what’s up?”

she crosses her arms, whispering indignantly, “i don’t know! you tell me!”

you tilt your head, confused. “tell you….?”

“how for the first time in hogwarts history you and niki didn’t argue in class?” she pauses, “you know what? i feel like i haven’t seen the two of you fight for a while. what happened?”

your mysterious shrug doesn’t make it any better. 

“is it because you realize your feelings for him?”

you choke on your spit. 

“excuse me?”

she nudges you playfully, “you know? the whole enemies to lovers thing? i can see it.”

you shake your head vehemently, “that’s literally only a thing in movies. you’re funny, leeseo.” 

but the worst thing is, you do think about it. enemies to lovers? you and niki? 

there’s no way. you spent your whole life up until this moment hating him. you shiver in disgust, shaking off the thought. 

sighing, you make your way down the hallways, alone. you left your ink in herbology and desperately needed it for notes. 

opening the door, you quietly make your way to your desk in order not to disturb your plants. 

or the sleeping figure in the corner. 

wait. what?

in alarm, you make your way over to the peaceful figure lying down on the desk. and then you pause. 

it was niki. 

and for some reason, you can’t help but just look at him. niki looked like a completely different person when he was asleep. he was much more tolerable.. and much more childlike.  

it was almost cute. 

you quickly blink. an idea formulates in your head, but you no longer charge ahead with confidence. you hesitate, debating whether pranking him would be too much. 

as long as it was simple and harmless, it would be fine, right? 

you draw out your wand, tiptoeing closer without a sound. but before you can mutter the incantation, a sudden shove from behind makes you gasp and stumble closer to him. 

you were too close to him, faces only inches apart. your eyes grow impossibly wide. for a second, you study his long eyelashes, pouting lips, and his chest rising and falling rhythmically. 

when niki mumbles in his sleep, you come back to reality. you shoot up and whip around to see the perpetrator who pushed you. it was-

no one? 

frowning, you look around for any sight of movement. that is, one of the potted mandrakes slightly rustles its leaves. you glare at it accusingly, muttering under your breath.

a surprised sound comes from your left. niki stares at you with confusion and sleep still in his eyes. 

“y/n?”

you grip the scarf in your hands tighter. “s-sorry,” you hastily apologize. “i had to grab something.”

you turn to dash out of the classroom, but a hand stops you. 

“where are you going?”

“to supper?” you respond, confused. 

he groans, getting up from his position. “okay. me too. might as well go together.” 

throat dry, you have no response. 

a comfortable pace set, it’s quiet as you walk together. you glance at him through the corner of your eye. niki stares at the ground, hands in his pockets. 

“why were you sleeping in herbology?” you ask abruptly to break the tension. 

“wanted to stay for tutoring and waited for the professor who didn’t show. i guess i accidentally fell asleep.”

“oh. okay.” 

“what did you forget?”

you gesture to your ink bottle and he nods. “you could’ve asked me for some.” 

you roll your eyes, feeling more relaxed. “and risk you giving me disappearing ink during an exam?”

he looks away sheepishly, “you know me too well.” 

you cough, “yeah, yeah.” 

the distance between you two shortens, yet your conversation is interrupted when you reach the great hall.

when you notice niki’s absence, you turn to him. “not going in?”

he waves a hand offhandedly, "actually i’m not hungry. see you later.”

bewildered, you wave good bye without another word. a silent question lingers in the back of your head. 

then why did he come all the way with you? 

you begin to question yourself. why did you feel that way when you saw niki up close? it was the same as the time he placed his hand on your face in concern. you didn’t like it. it bothered you. 

walking out of your commonroom that night for some fresh air, you hear commotion coming from down a corridor. you continue walking, hearing a group of voices. but you pause when you hear a distinctly familiar voice. 

“-there’s no way, man.”

“sure, but don’t lie to us. we saw you with them the other day. you were actually having a conversation- like normal people.”  

your blood runs cold. was that niki and his friends? 

could they be… talking about you?

“sure, but that’s just speaking words. listen, i don’t like them. i’ll never have feelings for them like that.”

you don’t know why disappointment fills you instead. you don’t why you head back to your dorm and hide under the covers. why you try to distance yourself from him, try to keep yourself from getting misunderstandings and more hurt. 

it’s obvious how you don’t even try to talk to him anymore. no more bickering, no more jokes, and no more niki. you didn’t realize how much of your day revolved around the boy. 

how much you woke up looking forward to squabbling with niki, hearing his teasing, seeing his grinning face. 

you actually missed him.

but if that’s what niki thought about you, then it was fine. you would think the same about him. you were fine. you had to be, and in order to be unaffected, you needed some distance. 

you see the way his eyes burn a hole into you when you pass by in and between classes. when he tries to talk to you, you give short and one worded answers. 

all your friends teased the way he would watch you during breakfast, lunch, and dinner. niki would see the way you laughed with no heart behind it and smiled without it reaching your eyes. 

to take your mind off things, you focused on quidditch. you focused on your upcoming match against slytherin. 

that is, until the day before your game. you got off the quidditch field after practicing alone, sweaty and breathless. as you put your broom and gloves up, a hand yanks you to the side.

your breath leaves you as you find yourself pushed up against the wall. breathing heavily, you realize pretty much immediately who it is. 

his arm effectively traps you, hand on the wall next to you. niki’s dark gaze is intense, and you know he won’t leave without an answer. 

“what’s going on, y/n? you don’t talk to me anymore, you don’t even look at me. what did i do wrong-“

for a second, the only thing you can hear is the sound of your breaths mixing. you squirm at how you can feel his body heat pressing into you. 

“nothing is wrong,” you grit out. 

“why won’t you look at me?”

you do, locking fiery gazes. he searches your eyes, but you won’t let him in.

“let. me. go.” 

you jab your finger into his firm chest with every word you enunciate.  

“no.” 

he cocks his head, still waiting for an answer. you sigh. 

“don’t worry about me. focus on yourself and the game tomorrow.”

exhausted, you push past him with barely any fight. 

“don’t even think about following me,” you call out one last time wearily. 

match day. you thought you were ready, even though you barely got any asleep after what happened yesterday. minji sports red and gold face paint, hyping you up before the match. 

everything happens in a blur, from when you get into your starting positions to when the whistle blows and you’re suddenly up in the air.  

you focus on the flying projectiles, looking for the ball. but a looming presence behind you doesn’t make it any better. 

you ignore him. 

“y/n!” niki calls out for only you to hear. to spectators, it seems like he’s chasing you around for the ball, which was indeed his position, but you knew he was just following you. 

you swerve around, away from the quaffle. shouts of confusion fill the air as the spectator comments on your move- but you could care less. 

niki zooms in beside you. 

"why are you avoiding me?” he yells. 

“i’m not.” 

“tell me!”

my god, he won’t stop. you forgot how stubborn he was. 

“stop following me!” you groan before turning away. 

“y/n, can we at least-“

for a second, you glance behind you to see where he was. a major mistake. 

mainly because you don’t see the hurtling bludger straight towards you. as your head turns back, niki calls out your name. panicked. 

“watch out-!”

your player instincts manage to dodge, but you veer off so harshly that the force causes you lose your grip on the broom and fall off.  

the last thing you hear is a shout of your name and a flash of green. the last thing you feel is the wind howling in your ears and warmth encasing you. 

everything hurts. the lights are too bright. 

your throat is incredibly dry- even more then the time niki snuck a puking pastille in your food that left you by the toilet for hours. 

you let out a weak croak, eyes feeling impossibly heavy but you manage to open them. the sight of the hospital wing comes into focus. what were you doing here?

when you try to shift, you suddenly notice the warmth encasing your hand and by your lap.  

“niki?” you cringe at how dead your voice sounds. 

he shoots up at the sound of your voice in the chair next to your hospital bed. his hand tightens around yours.

“y/n- you’re awake!” his warm eyes leave you feeling uncomfortable fluttery on the inside. 

“yeah,” you cough. “what’s going on?”

he gives you a glass of water before explaining. “you fell off your broom avoiding the bludger. i managed to catch you but the impact caused you to pass out.”

you furrow your eyebrows, recalling the events leading up to your fall. 

“the nurse said you’re fine, just some bruises and aches. you’ve been out for a couple hours.” 

you’re silent for a second before speaking up, “so who won?”

niki frowns, disapproval evident on his face. “y/n. you fell like a hundred feet and ended up in a hospital, and that’s what you care about?”

you suddenly grow half defensive, half embarrassed. your hand feels clammy in his. 

“why do you care? i mean, why are you here with me?” 

“what do you mean? i-i was worried about you, obviously.”

you huff bitterly, “worried? i thought you said you didn’t like me- and never would.”

“what?” he responds incredulously. 

you cough awkwardly, telling him about the time you overheard him and his friends.

he suddenly breaks out in laughter, leaving you offended. “thanks for eavesdropping, but i was talking about some creepy stalker girl who wouldn’t leave me alone.”

you resist the urge to slap yourself. “so that means…”

“i don’t not like you.”

“you don’t not like me?” you repeat to yourself. 

niki suddenly stammers, “i-i thought it was obvious. i thought it was really obvious back in our first year. but then you actually got angry, and i just kinda kept up with the act throughout the years-”

your eyes bulge, “so everything you did was to get my attention?!”

“maybe?” niki sighs, raising his hand that was tightly gripping yours. 

“i was deathly worried about you, and a really stupid kid. so, y/n, would you please forgive me?” 

suddenly the proximity between you two feels too small, the air in the room too hot. 

“pretty please?” he pouts up at you. 

what happened to the niki from yesterday? you bite the inside of your cheek before the gyrffindor side of you takes over. 

“you know what? if you want to make up for the last however many years, just kiss me.”

for once, big head listens to you. 

a/n ▸ happy halloween to anyone who celebrates!! and thank you to the overwhelming support on this miniseries <33 it was a real struggle but it’s finally completed!

MAIN TAGLIST ▸  @precioussoulofmine @lov3niki @heesterical @rerequire @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount @hoeshii

SERIES TAGLIST ▸ @ritsusakumasgf @minimarkive @lilactangerine @shinsou-rii @ahnneyong @nomniki @nyanggk @imtaehyungry @seattlesolace @allthegirlsmialoved @annoyingbitch83 @jakahbot @leeis @heavenforatlas @acciocriativity @loveza1nab @juliemr0 @en-martieru @uomre @rubysluvbot @notdrunkbutdazed

UNABLE TO TAG ▸ @/27melodies

x : MY DILUC, MY EVERYTHING :*+ﾟ

in which: you tell diluc that klee finds him 'too boring' to be your boyfriend. he can't help but feel like she's right.

warnings: 1.3k words, insecure diluc who needs a little reassurance, mostly dialogue, klee being cute but also a menace, so much fluff with a dash of angst.

a/n: i have not posted anything in so long, but i wanted this to be my first fic of 2024 because i love diluc <3 i hope you all enjoy this little fic!

“What do you mean Mr Diluc is your boyfriend?” Klee asks, tilting her head to the side with an inquisitive look in her eyes as you bend down to her height.

“I mean that Mr Diluc is my boyfriend. My partner. We’ve been together for years now.” 

“You mean that Mr Diluc, right?” She raises a tiny hand in the direction where the red-haired in question stands. He’s immersed in conversation with Kaeya and Jean, but from one glance you can tell the estranged brothers are up to no good. Or rather, that Kaeya is having the time of his life provoking your partner.

“That’s the one. I think he’s the only one, Klee.”

Her pointer finger then comes up to her chin in contemplation, and her breath of contemplation materialises as a small cloud, condensating in the winter chill. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“Why is he your boyfriend?”

“Well, why wouldn’t he be?”

“No offence to Mr Diluc, but he’s so cold and boring!” She cries, clenching her fists to her chest, as if being ‘boring’ was a crime to humanity. “And he never smiles. He should smile more but I would find him scarier like that… so maybe he should stay the way he is: a total gloomy bum bum!”

You can’t help but laugh at her honest statement, muffling the noise with your hand. She blinks at you and wonders what she said that made you laugh, but you simply tell her that it’s nothing.

“Maybe, but I love that ‘gloomy bum bum’ just the way he is.”

“But… why? Y/n is so kind and knows how to smile! Mr Diluc is too sad and boring for you.”

Over the course of your relationship with the wine monopolist, you were met with resistance from various people who believed they wanted ‘the best’ for him. These were including, butand not limited to, businessmen, his admirers, and old aristocrats with wealth on the brink of collapsing. You never let their passive aggressiveness get to you, their comments burned to ashes by the way Diluc lights the way for you with his undying flames. 

Yet hearing a child, who has no real grip of the world beyond explosions and how not to blow up Monstadt, explain that Diluc shouldn’t be with you because he doesn’t know how to smile is… unbelievable. Her intentions are nothing but pure for her knowledge of the world has not yet been tainted by the nuance of human behaviour. As refreshing as it feels to have her support, any insults you hear about Diluc are unpleasant to hear. Though she may not hold any malice, perhaps her judge of character needs to be deepened.

“Sometimes, the coldest people are really the warmest,” you begin, gently wrapping her scarf around her neck. “Mr Diluc is one of those people.”

“Really?”

“Warmer than a fireplace, or a Pyro Crystalfly, or Jumpty Dumpty.”

Her eyes widen. “Really?”

“Yes, but please don’t go blowing one up just to see how warm it can be. Jean already told you about the animals hibernating during winter, you shouldn’t go disturbing them.”

She tucks her hands behind her back, eyes downcast and ears flopped.

“Do you remember when Albedo took you to Dragonspine and when you melted a chunk of ice, crystalflies flew out of it?”

“They were so pretty and became super warm! I wish I caught one of them, but they flew away too quickly.”

“Mr Diluc is just like that ice with the fireflies. You just need to warm up to him and when you do, he can be one of the best people you’ll ever meet.”

“Will he fly away too?”

“You could keep an eye on him and find out.”

She nods, determination alighting in her eyes with the new task you assign her. Although you’re pretty positive she won’t ever succeed with it, you’re just happy you’ve found a way to show Klee that your lover isn’t as terrible as she deems. A flash of familiar red hair appears in your periphery.

“Dear?” He calls, capturing your attention. “Shall we head into the tavern now? It’s too cold to stay out here.”

Sparing one last glance at Klee who regards your partner with fire in her eyes, you can’t help but smile at the pure innocence in her heart. With a ruffle of her hair as goodbye, you take Diluc’s hand and stand, waving goodbye to the rest of the group before heading in the direction of Angel’s Share. Shuddering, you sink deeper into the wool of your coat and the warmth of his Pyro Vision, a perfect combat to the winter frost that’s covered Monstadt.

“You know,” you begin when both of you have arrived at the empty tavern and the red-haired has a fire started in the corner. He urges you to continue with a soft ‘hum’. “The conversation I had with Klee just won’t leave my head.”

“Oh? What’d she say?”

Sitting down on a cold stool, you keep your gaze on him as he walks behind the counter. It seems like he’s preparing drinks and snacks for you: some cheese, crackers, and grapes.

“First of all, she only found out today that I was dating you.”

“Oh? Jean or Albedo haven’t told her before?”

“I guess neither of us appear that much in conversation together. But she refused to believe it at first, being like ‘you mean that Mr Diluc?’, ‘why is he your boyfriend?’,” you laugh. “She thought that you were too gloomy to be with me and that I should be with someone who knows how to smile.”

His cheese knife halts, the sound of metal meeting wood slicing through the atmosphere. However, you’re too engrossed in retelling the story to notice the way he freezes.

“How silly. Kids really have the wildest presumptions and thoughts to match.”

Diluc continues preparing the food, stiff hands moving along the counter. You don’t say more than that, saving further conversation for when he’s done. As he sets the arrangement of crackers, cheese, and grapes down, it’s accompanied by a heavy sigh.

“What if… she’s right?” Asks the winery owner, voice no louder than a whisper.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I did, but I don’t understand why you think that way too.”

“Well, smiling isn’t my strong suit anymore and I’ve been told by the knights that the children find my expression too scary.”

“You know anyone can smile, right?” You ask jovially. “It’s not like a statistical impossibility-“

“It’s not just that,” he interjects sharply. Your smile fades, acknowledging Diluc’s sombre expression that clarified he wasn’t joking around like you thought. However, seeing the change in your attitude sobered him and that sharp glance fades, turning into something remorseful and softer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap like that.”

“No no, it’s my fault for not taking you seriously. Please, go on.”

“I’m quite boring, you know.” He fiddles with the ends of his leather gloves. “Did you never think that maybe what Klee said could be correct?”

“Never because she’s not correct. Honestly, Diluc, after all these years of being together and hearing what some people have to say about us, I never thought you’d think like this.” 

He casts his gaze downwards. “Because those people don’t know me like you do.” 

Two hands come up to cup his cheeks, gently directing him to look up at you and meet your kind expression. All inhibitions he had melt away at the sight of your smile.

“I can only hope they never do,” you reply simply, confidence lacing your words. 

Being with him is not easy. He is a busy man, one who manages the entirety of Monstadt’s wine business during the day and takes to the shadows to look after your beloved city at night. Yet, despite working with the sun and moon, he still gives all of him to you. For as long as Diluc will allow it, you hope to be the only person he’ll pick baskets of grapes with, play slow games of chess with, and freely lay out his convictions to. 

You’ll be damned to give up your spot beside him without a fight.

Diluc doesn’t believe he deserves the same. “You’re too patient with me. I’ve let you down too much for you to be this forgiving,” he grabs your wrists and gently knocks his forehead against yours. “I can’t give you everything you want.”

“You’re my Diluc, you already are everything.”

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

✦◦ attention

summary. once wanderer ignores you, and you won't even look at him?

notes. wanderer x gn!reader / fluff / referred to as "kuni."

author's thoughts. this is my first time posting on tumblr! here's a nice and short fic to begin this blog.

You huffed as you walked away from the Wanderer, your back facing him. He sighed in irritation before grumbling something under his breath. He was quick to follow you.

“Quit it, will you?” He said as he treaded your heels. You were walking fast. Not that it bothered your boyfriend. As much as you hated to admit it, he was faster than you. And if he truly desired it, he could simply fly ahead of you. But right now Kuni simply gave pursuit, attempting to get your attention.

“C’mon, talk to me. Stop ignoring me,” He continued protesting. You didn’t even bother turning around, looking at him or acknowledging him. Your pace was quick, your steps nimble and light footed as you easily traversed the forestry terrain.

One time. One time Wanderer ignores you, and this is what he gets? One time he turned away from you to converse with the traveller and you refuse to even look at him? 

You had a nonchalant expression on your face. You’d sometimes wave your hand dismissively as if swatting away an annoying mosquito. In your head though, you were amused by this situation. See how Kuni likes to be treated this way, hm?

Admittedly, this was pissing off your boyfriend. His patience was not what he was known for, and he looked very much close to snapping. 

Suddenly you felt a firm grip on your wrist. You let out a soft yelp as you were spun around, now forced to face your dear beloved. His gaze stared down at you, and his presence was domineering. 

“Talk to me,” He nearly snarled. You swallowed thickly. The Wanderer was stubborn, but so were you. You scoffed, saying absolutely nothing, turning your head away. 

And yet, even that option was thrown out the window. Kuni’s fingers curled around your chin, tilting your head back up to him. His stare piercing into your soul. His lips in a taut line.

“...Pay attention to me,” He said, his voice soft and low. Under the dappled light of the trees, you could see his face dusted a faint pink hue.

You arched a brow, amused at his words. Still no words escaped you, wanting to see how this entertaining event could now turn. 

The Wanderer muttered curses before interlocking his fingers with yours. He pulled you closer by your waist, your bodies pressing against one another. He brought your hand up to his mouth. Kuni’s lips parted, a puff of warmth hitting your skin. He pressed a kiss flush against the back of your palm. 

Kuni’s lips stayed glued onto your hand for a second longer before pulling away.

“There.” He let go of your hand, crossing his arms. “Is that enough for your whiny self to talk to me now?”

You smiled, cheeky and mischievous, before planting a kiss on the Wanderer’s cheek. 

“I’ll think about it,” You mused.

Kuni rolled his eyes, his fingers finding yours as he dragged you along with him, the tips of his ears red.

dividers by: @cafekitsune