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adragonprinceswhore · 6 months ago

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Soft & Hard

Aemond Targaryen x Ex Girlfriend

Summary: How do you forget about Aemond Targaryen when he’s everywhere you look?

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, angst, emotional infidelity, descriptions of self-hatred, situationship, intoxication, smut, heavy petting, drunk sex, P in V, (some) size kink

Word Count: 4000

A/N: This has been plaguing my mind for weeks now, so I really needed to get it out of me and into the world. This can be read as a continuation of my Hockey player Aemond drabble, but can also be read as a standalone. Aemond is a hockey player in this modern AU! 🩵

You prop your feet up to rest on the sides of your bathtub, angling the shower head just right so it hits that spot that sends pleasurable shivers rippling through your body.

Your eyes are closed, and you’re desperately trying to visualise the hot guy from the TV series you’d just binged; mind racing through any arousing scenario you can come up with.

It’s not an easy task; keeping yourself occupied enough to not drift towards the very man you’ve vainly tried to erase from your memory.

You don’t want to think about him.

Thinking about him always leads to missing him.

It leads to longing for him.

No matter how badly he hurt you. No matter how much you rationalise your reasons for leaving, your stupid heart yearns to fill the hole he’s left behind.

Pathetic.

You shut your eyes with more force, thinking of the hot TV character. Upping the pressure of the shower head, you imagine it’s him going down on you that’s causing the pleasure building inside. Your hips begin to shallowly sway back and forth, and low whimpering moans slip from your lips.

As the pleasure builds and builds, the image in your head morphs; the hot TV guys’ hair turns silver, no matter how hard you try to stay focused.

You’re close, so close, and just as you’re on the edge of pleasure, you hear him,

“You’re so pretty like this”

And you cum so hard you drop the showerhead in your grip, legs shaking as your hips jerk upward aggressively.

Water sprays across the bathroom as the shower head falls, but you’re too lost in your own bliss to truly care, giving yourself a moment to just disappear into the fleeting, fierce pleasure consuming you.

After a while, when your legs have stopped shaking and your cunt has stopped clenching around nothing, you turn the rampant shower head off with a sigh.

The satisfaction of your orgasm is short-lived, promptly followed by the lonely reality of you chasing pleasure alone in your bathroom. You could stay in the tub and make yourself cum 10 more times and it wouldn’t change the loneliness residing inside of you.

You could try to picture that hot guy from the show fucking you for hours, still you’d feel the same.

Still, visions of him would cloud your mind. And the chill of loneliness would penetrate your bones, as it does right now.

Because no one kisses your forehead afterwards, or holds you tight, or whispers sweet things into your ear.

You're alone, and the warm water quietly splashing around you doesn’t stop the cold porcelain of your bathtub from chilling your heated flesh.

You shiver.

Sick of yourself; of your self-pity and hatred, you leave the tub and throw on a dressing gown, already on a search for a new distraction.

Anything to take your mind off Aemond Targaryen.

Forgetting Aemond was nearly impossible.

Not only did your mind remind you of your heart’s longing for the man that broke it. The world did as well. Like when you overheard your colleagues discussing his latest game, and how skillfully he tackled his opponents, landing a blow on them so precise yet hard that they flew into the rink. Or when you got home after a long day and turned on the TV, greeted by him giving a post-match interview all sweaty and panting.

The only way you knew him.

Being restricted to seeing the man you’d spent countless nights together with through the TV screen has brought you to the conclusion that ultimately, your relationship hasn’t changed much.

Sure, you don’t send him nudes anymore. Nor does he fuck you into the mattress of whichever hotel room he brings you to.

But the distance is the same. The loneliness isn’t new; it always existed between the two of you. He never really cared to let you in.

You were convenient.

Pliable.

An easy fuck.

You should’ve realised it sooner. Like that time when Alicent Hightower, Westerosi socialite and Aemond’s mother, stopped by one of his practices. You were helping him lace his skates when she appeared, and as soon as he noticed his mum approaching, Aemond’s large hand gently but firmly pushed you away.

Ms. Hightower’s curious gaze had asked about you, and her son huffed out, “She’s an acquaintance”

An acquaintance.

Not even a friend.

To you, Aemond was the first thing you thought about in the morning, and the last thing you thought about before going to sleep.

To him, you were an acquaintance.

Pathetic.

That should have been the last straw. But you kept seeing him. Not even the humiliation and hurt you felt as you excused yourself and ran to the bathroom with tears in your eyes could stop you from craving him. That was the power he had over you.

The power he still has over you, even in his absence. Even if you blocked his number 6 months ago and haven’t seen him once since.

The actual last straw was a message you’d gotten from an unknown number, asking if you’d send more of those “hot slutpics in dat black thong”. For a second you thought it was Aemond having a laugh, but the message didn’t sound like him, and he isn’t exactly known for being a guy that appreciates humour, or ‘pranks’.

Turns out, the number belonged to Aegon Targaryen, Aemond’s older brother and notorious fuckboy. Word around King’s Landing was that every girl who’d slept with him had gotten chlamydia, and still he seems to find a new conquest to throw his arms around each weekend.

Perhaps the sleaziest guy in the Seven Kingdoms.

Turns out, it runs in the family.

You blocked Aemond’s number that night. After swearing to never let your desire for him get the best of you again, you begged your friends to take you out and get you so shitfaced the humiliation Aemond had inflicted on you would be washed away.

It didn’t work.

You’re still tainted by his touch.

So you switch tactics. You look for someone else.

About a month after you’d called things off with Aemond, you thought you’d found a good replacement. A nice, inconspicuous guy who was eager to please; eager to make you like him. You would’ve felt guilty, really, if the dark hole of lonely self-hatred in your chest didn’t outweigh your selfishness.

And still, Aemond Targaryen was everywhere.

You’d find him in that adoring look your new partner gave you as you sucked him off in the shower. You’d find him in bed, when you couldn’t sleep and imagined it was Aemond’s heavy arms holding you tight. You’d find him in your fantasies, seemingly incapable of coming with your new partner unless you closed your eyes and pretended the short, curly strands greeting your hand between your legs were actually long, silky and silver.

Ultimately, your conscience caught up with you, and you broke things off with the new guy as well. He had told you that he loved you, and the sweetest of confessions felt like the sharpest of needles prickling your heart.

Aemond never said it.

Oh, how you wish it was him saying it.

Sometimes, even after six months of not seeing him, you’re still surprised by how incredibly piteous he’s rendered you.

Yearning for a man who only saw you as a plaything. Who only ever cared for you when you were conveniently there for him to do as he pleased with. Who refused to expose your relationship to his mother, and shared your nudes with his brother.

Fucking prick.

Today’s Friday.

Single and lonelier than ever, you beg your friends to go out dancing with you. It’s become your new weekend ritual; go out and dance until your feet hurt and you’re so tired you collapse on your bed, mind delightfully empty.

Now, you're back on the dancefloor, drink in hand, eyes closed as you sway to the music.

You always drag your friends to the same place, The Three Towers, a nightclub of the slightly more exclusive kind, with proper DJs and strong drinks.

They must’ve figured out by now that it was Aemond who introduced you to this place. You see it in the pitiful looks they give you every time you insist on coming here instead of going to any of the many other places in Oldtown. Their eyes say what you’ve known to be true for over six months;

Pathetic.

It’s not like Aemond likes to go out anyway. He hates crowds, dislikes strangers, loathes the fake people gathering around him to tell him empty words of adoration.

But that one time you’d wanted to go dancing, he’d brought you here.

Maybe he brings all his “acquaintances” here.

You tell yourself that you don’t come here for him, that it just happens to be a great place, but still, every time you catch a glimpse of something silvery in the corner of your eye, dread punches you in the gut.

Why do you seek him out when you know actually meeting him would destroy you? What if you saw him here with another girl? Maybe one of the models his brother so often gifts his infected cock to?

Tumultuous thoughts swirl in your mind until you notice that the flash of silver isn’t Aemond’s hair at all, and ease settles over you. Well, something akin to ease. The self-hatred is still there,

Pathetic.

Your feet quickly carry you to the bar, eager for more of the numbness only alcohol provides. You order another G&T and almost spit it out after the first sip; it’s basically all gin.

Good.

You take three large gulps and move back to the dancefloor, searching for your friends who you’ve lost in the crowd of intertwined bodies.

You scan your surroundings, and then it happens again. A flash of silver. Only this time, it’s him.

You remember the first time you saw him. TV appearances and watching him on the ice doesn’t do him justice. In person, his ethereal beauty’s blinding. Just like it is now. One of the spotlights over the sofa he sits on hits his hair, causing it to glow like the beacon of a dark night at sea.

Calling you in.

Your feet work by themselves as they walk towards him. You panic, desperately searching for any excuse to talk to him.

What do you say?

Suddenly you’re right before him, drink in one hand and the other nervously touching your hair as you dumbly stare at him. He looks up from the drink in his hand, a whiskey on the rocks you’d guess, and meets your eyes.

His gaze is cold and stoic.

Unimpressed.

He raises an expectant eyebrow.

And yet you say nothing. All the witty, insightful, hard-hitting truths you’d wanted to tell him for the last six months vanish as you stand before him frozen in panic.

Pathetic.

Pathetic!

You have nothing. Your mind’s empty, the only thing you can do is feel. Feel the self-hatred, the loneliness, the insecurity he’s inflicted upon you.

He rolls his eyes. Aemond’s not known for his patience, “If you’re looking for that new boyfriend of yours, he’s not here”

“I don’t have a boyfriend”, you blurt out, prompted by the shiver running through you caused by the venom dropping from his words. He sounds so hateful.

He stands abruptly, forcing you to take a faltering step back as he tower over you,

“Come”

He takes the drink in your hand and places it on a nearby table before grabbing your hand and leading you out of the rowdy club. The chill of the night air hits your scarcely clad body as he drags you towards a cab waiting outside, your ears still ringing from the loud music in the club.

He opens the door and pushes on your arm to get in. His touch is still impossibly warm; just as you remember it.

He slams the door shut and walks around to the other side, getting in and grunting an address you’ve never heard of to the taxi driver.

You know your friends would be furious if they knew who you left with, so you send them a quick text stating that you’ve left ‘cause you didn’t feel well.

You place your phone back in your purse and look outside. It seems like you’re driving towards the north part of the city, a place you hardly know.

The deafening silence in the taxi is so tense, any sane person would ask the driver to stop and get out in a heartbeat.

Aemond, sitting next to you with his jaw clenched and fidgeting with his customised black and red lighter, sends nervous ripples of fear through your being. You know he’s contemplating something, yet you wouldn’t dare ask.

Any sensible person would get out.

But you can’t.

Because he still smells the same. And it’s everywhere in the stuffy cab. And your heart hurts, a tear threatens to spill, because you’ve missed it all so much; his smell, his hair, his voice, his touch.

Him.

The silence persists, until you're finally freed as the taxi driver stops and Aemond hands him a few copper stars.

You get out and take a deep breath of the late summer night's air. The buzz of alcohol still clouds your judgement somewhat, yet you feel more aware of yourself than ever before.

You look around and see Aemond approach the entrance to a sleek building in that brutalist, modern design, and you follow in tow. He still hasn’t said anything, and neither have you.

You get in a lift, go up to the top floor, and enter a dark flat with only a small table lamp lit by the entrance, obscuring your view of the place.

Just as you make way to move further into the room, Aemond hinders you.

He doesn’t allow you entrance to the rest of the space, cornering you against a low side table by the entrance door. He’s so tall, and so broad, you disappear into the wall as he steals all the space around you.

“Why did you agree to come with me?”

He’s so close you feel his breath tickle your skin. It’s too dark to truly see the expression on his face, but the shadows cast on him makes him look stern. The smell of him intensifies. You feel warm.

This is all you’ve wanted. All you’ve feared.

You still desire him so.

“You told me to”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you know it’s because your reply’s caught him off guard. He’d assumed you’d fight back, jab at him in some way. He tries again,

“My mate saw you at that club last week, you know”

Is he keeping tabs on you?

“What happened to your boyfriend?”

How does he know about that?

You swallow, “Nothing. It just wasn’t right”

“Hm”

Your eyes are locked together, his mismatched gaze just as alluring as you remember it. Without looking away, he brings a hand up to gently stoke the cold skin of your arm.

The harshness of his stare falters,

“Did you miss me?”

The retort leaves your lips before you register it forming in your head. Can’t give in to him that easily. Can’t make your suffering known to the person causing it.

The harshness reappears.

“Did he fuck you the way you like?”

His tone is cold, yet heated with anger. The same hateful tinge from before.

Your drunk mind works without you operating it,

“He wasn’t you”

The confession slips out, and so does the pitifulness. The loneliness. The pathetic mess you’ve become.

Aemond didn’t expect your admission either, eyes narrowing in suspicion,

“What do you mean?”

Is this the time?

To tell him how utterly devastated you’ve been without him? How he plagues your mind? How your entire being is tainted by him?

No.

“Why did you bring me here?”, you ask, foggy mind finally cooperative enough to let you change the subject.

“Because you wanted me to”, he replies, the gentle hand on your arm suddenly travelling down to caress your exposed thigh before harshly cupping your cunt.

A startled gasp espaces your lips.

His touch is so nostalgic it travels from your aroused core to your heart, and squeezes it painfully.

His hand is big enough to cover you entirely, and with the heel of his palm, he pushes harshly where he knows your swollen clit lies obscured under your panties. His long finger taps against your hole, and he huffs a quiet, condescending laugh as he feels how moist the fabric is.

When did you get this wet?

You feel the heat of his touch radiate from his palm to your cunt, so persistent it finds its way through your underwear. He only moves his hand to stroke you over the fabric and press at your clit, but the gratification of finally being granted his touch works you towards release at a speed you’d thought impossible.

“Still a little slut for me”

He brings two fingers up to press right over your clit, rough circles demanding that you obey his touch and come for him.

His breathing hard through his nose, the look in his eye is hard to decipher,

Arousal?

Fury?

Fuck it feels good to be pushed against a wall by him. To be subjected to his rough treatment. Anything to feel his touch on you again.

Your hips move upwards to meet his fingers; you’re so close to falling apart.

“You missed me. And that fucker you were seeing couldn’t compare to me. Isn’t that right?”

He spits out the words, teeth grazing the shell of your ear as he leans even closer.

Your arms have been hanging limply at your side, and you have to fight the sudden urge to grab him and press him against you. To feel him closer.

“Did he make you this wet?”

Aemond’s tongue licks the sensitive spot behind your ear and you moan loudly, fully consumed by the way his fingers push you towards release.

You angle your face so that his mouth is right by yours. With parted lips, you look up at him pleadingly, begging him to kiss you.

Something in his eye shifts, and a victorious smirk breaks out over his face,

“Come”

And you do. So hard you see stars and your legs give out. The pleasure is intense, it steals everything from you; your breath, your senses, your self-discipline.

Your hands fly to Aemond’s biceps, anchoring yourself to him as your body twitches forcefully in the pleasure rupturing you. It’s cathartic; a long awaited release only his hands can coax out.

When you come back to reality, to the dark hallway you're trapped against Aemond’s body in, the dreaded self-hatred you’d gotten to know so well makes itself known again.

The brutal reality of exactly how far your pathetic infatuation with Aemond has driven you crashes over you like an ice-cold wave of regret. You feel hot tears well up in the corner of your eyes as they stay casted down, refusing to look up at the man who’s greatest pleasure in life seems to be to torment you.

Why had he brought you here? Why did he enjoy hurting you? Why had you fallen for it?

“What did I do to make you hate me so?”

It’s the alcohol talking. Or maybe it’s the last thing you need to hear from him before you can finally let go. The last shard of your heart crushed in his grip.

Silence is the only answer he gives you, and without looking up, you push him to move so you can get away from him. Instead of allowing you to leave, he brings one hand to your cheek, engulfing it in warmth, and drags your face upwards to meet his eyes.

Before you can read his expression, he ducks his head down, letting his lips graze over yours. His tongue comes out to swipe over your lower lip in a slow, gentle caress that feels more sensual than anything you’ve ever experienced, and in retaliation your greedy arms pull him closer, eagerly kissing him back. There’s a slow urgency to the way his tongue seeks out yours, bending your body backwards to taste you deeper. You relish in it.

You want him to eat you up. To devour you completely. You’re his anyway.

Without breaking the kiss, Aemond leads you down the dark hallway and into a dimly lit room. The only thing you register is a large bed in the middle, where he takes a seat and keeps you standing between his legs, still kissing you.

His hands roam over your body; over your exposed arms and legs. They find the zipper at the back of your dress and pull it down, slowly undressing you until you're completely bare.

He stands for a brief moment to rid himself of his own clothes, and then sits again, guiding you to climb onto his lap.

You follow his every command in enchantment. You grant him every kiss he seeks, allow him every touch he craves. He can have it all.

He guides you to sink down on him slowly. You’re still so wet, yet he’s so hard your insides are forced to mould after his stiffness.

Once he fills each part of you, he wraps your legs around his waist, sighing in satisfaction as he presses your body so close to his the skin of your torso sticks to his.

“I won’t last long-”, he whispers into your ear, “-a 6 month wait is excruciating”

The touch that you’ve known as harsh and demanding is now so soft. So delicate it slowly picks up the shattered pieces of your broken heart and mends them together again with each gentle caress.

Your hands cup his cheeks, gazing into his lilac and blue stare as you slowly begin to move.

Aemond doesn’t say anything, doesn’t say that one phrase that you want him to, but the look in his eyes is mesmerising. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable. It’s intimate.

He’s giving himself to you.

You wrap your arms around him, accepting him. You want all of him, all to yourself. You’ve wanted him for half a year. You’ve wanted him since the first time you met him.

He meets your hips each time you sink down, and the otherwise carnal pursuit for pleasure feels dreamlike as Aemond’s arms envelop you and you disappear into him.

You want to say it, but not yet. You don’t dare. Would he retreat again? You know it to be true, but it’s too early. Maybe someday.

Instead, it’s Aemond who speaks over the moans and sighs of pleasure,

“Don’t leave me again”

You don’t know how long you fuck, but each orgasm feels more consuming, more powerful, than the last. Ultimately, you collapse together on the bed, legs and arms still intertwined. The familiarity of Aemond’s heavy arms over your waist soothes you, yet the soft sheets of the bed provide a stark contrast to the stiff, clinical sheets of the hotel rooms he’d always brought you to before.

There’s nothing left between you, no more layers to shed, so you ask him about everything that had led up to your separation. About how he dismissed you in front of his mother, and about the text from his brother. The latter seems to genuinely surprise him,

“I’ve never shared your pictures with anyone, especially not him”

Guess Aegon Targaryen isn’t above snooping through his brother’s stuff.

You talk all night, and Aemond tells you about his strained relationship with his family, “My family has an ability to ruin things for me”, he confesses, “I didn’t want that to happen with you”

As the rays of sunrise begin to seep through the window, you admit to the loneliness that’s been eating away at you since parting from Aemond.

He cups your cheek again, thumb stroking your cheekbone,

“I fucked up. I’ve missed you more than I thought possible”

Your loneliness hadn’t been solitary. He’d felt it too. You’d shared it.

You lay your head on his chest, listening to the slow drum of his heart. Before it lulls you to sleep, you remember the last thing you’d like to ask him,

“Aemond, where are we?”

“My place”

A/N: I never know if I should write it as come or cum? After some studious research (not), I decided that come is the original and therefore works better! Thank you for reading, I write these drabble for fun to improve my writing, so don't be too harsh please 🫶🩵

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #modern aemond #modern!aemond #my fics

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jaylaxies · 1 year ago

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ENHYPEN REACTION: to you being in the rival house at Hogwarts

PAIRING: enhypen hyung line x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, slytherin!hee with gryffindor!reader, slytherin!jay with hufflepuff!reader, ravenclaw!jake with gryffindor!reader, gryffindor!sunghoon with slytherin!reader

WC: 4.7k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, my loves <3 this was requested by my anonnie here and i loved writing about enha and hogwarts omg! all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33

Slytherin!Heeseung x Gryffindor!reader

Trope: Headboy x Headgirl

Heeseung was beyond elated when he got his letter back at the manor, stating how he had become the head boy of Hogwarts. His family of pure bloods were even prouder, however, his cocky smirk dropped the second he met with the entirety of the prefectorial board at the Hogwarts express, prefect compartment to be precise.

Seeing you standing there with the batch stating ‘head girl’ was not something he wanted to see, not when you were someone who came from a non wizarding background, someone who was in Gryffindor.

How could they make you the head girl? How could they think he’d be willing to spend his time working with you of all people. His hatred for your likes was visible from day one, his taunts and threats didn’t bother you, and that’s exactly what bothered him. The urge to make your life living hell was his motto more or less, even more so this year.

“It’s absurd, man. Let her be now, it’s our last year here for Godric’s sake,” Jay huffed out, irritated that Heeseung couldn’t shut up about the new Gryffindor quidditch captain giving you too much attention despite your blood status.

“It doesn’t fucking matter, why do people like her anyway? What happened to keeping the muggles away from the likes of us?” He gritted his teeth, accidentally stabbing the piece of chicken too hard with his fork at dinner. The sight of you snuggling close to the said captain infuriated him more than he let on.

“Well, she’s not a muggle if she can do magic, and extraordinarily well at that,” Jay offered, having done with Heeseung being a dimwit and not realizing the truth behind his anger.

“Wow, thanks for the support, mate,” Heeseung rolled his eyes, looking back at you again.

He’d make sure to wipe that smile off of your face while taking rounds later—at least that’s what he promised himself. Taking rounds was probably the time he looked forward to the most, given that it was the perfect time to criticize and show hatred towards you.

However, the second you meet up at the staircase, telling him to divide areas since you do not wish to work with him anymore, he loses it. He completely loses it, scoffing and grabbing your wrist, pulling you into the room of requirement right behind you.

“What the fuck—” you tried to scream, but he was quick to cover your mouth with his hand.

“What? Can’t even look my way now that you have a quidditch captain chasing you around?” He scoffs, eyes full of hatred, the kind you had never seen before and it made you scoff.

“Well, newsflash, Lee. I never wanted to look your way from the very start. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s you who’s clearly obsessed with me,” you seethed out, not caring about the proximity despite your breathing getting heavier.

“Ah? Me obsessed with the likes of you? Don’t flatter yourself, darling,” he said, tone almost challenging, his hold on your wrist tight, just like the hand that was grabbing your waist now, making you gulp but not back down.

“So, it shouldn’t matter to you if I snog my quidditch captain, or more,” you whispered with a smug smile, feeling his hand squeezing your waist tighter.

“You cannot do that,” he warned.

“Oh but I did—”

You couldn’t finish your statement and nor could Heeseung control his actions anymore, pressing you up against the wall and shoving his tongue down your throat, kissing you in the messiest way he could muster to mush out all the sane thoughts coming his way.

This was the sanest he had felt in ages.

“You’re fucking mine,” he groaned against your lips.

“No, fuck I’m not,” you smirked, testing him further, loving how he had finally given in to the truth—that he wanted you.

The room of requirement was sly, preparing a bed as he pushed you on it, getting on top of you while getting rid of his robes, “oh, babe, I’ll show you who you belong to.”

“Took you way too long, Lee,” you chuckled, gasping the second he pushed your panties aside, feeling your wetness on his fingers with a smirk.

“Been waiting, eh?” He asked, cocky as he pushed two fingers in with ease, your back arching as you moaned.

“Talk about yourself,” you smirked, pulling him into another rough kiss, messy of all sorts as he sucked on your tongue, pumping his own cock by lubricating it with your wetness.

He wasted no time, in aligning himself to your entrance, pushing his cock in one go to bottom out, groaning at the tightness that squeezed him, thrusting almost instantly when he saw nothing but pleasure on your face with a promise to claim you his.

“Fuck, I knew you’d make a perfect whore, always so desperate for my attention,” he groaned, snapping his hips to yours, the noise resonating the room.

“You can’t even thrust properly, ah—” he sped up to shut your mouth, your toes curling as you held on to him for support, chanting his name like a mantra the whole time as he proved just how much and how well he can fuck you.

All night.

Slytherin!Jay x Hufflepuff!reader

Trope: Animagi Jay

It took him a lot of patience.

In fact, it took everyone in his friend group a lot of patience to keep their mouths shut for a whole month, a single mandrake leaf resting in their mouths. However, they wanted to do something iconic, which would be��turning into an animagus to cause trouble whilst being unregistered at that. The whole process was tedious.

Jay was losing his last bit of sanity, watching you smiling softly and being kind to others, which was a usual thing per se.

The only problem was how he couldn’t verbally bother you.

It was known to be his favourite pastime, inserting himself in your life and bothering you for existing.

Why? Because that’s what he should do, being a slytherin. He had a personality he needed to live up to, and he knew hell would break if anyone as much as gets a hint about Jay’s infatuation with you.

The solution? To make sure he says the meanest things so he wouldn’t have to see your smile. You don’t get why he’s mean to you. His hatred goes as far as it concerns you, and you’ve never seen him calling anyone else names but you.

So, seeing you being happy and not once thinking about him since he put the leaf in his mouth had his blood boiling, especially when you agreed to attend Slughorn’s party with a random ravenclaw boy. The same party he was gonna ask you to attend with him—or bully you into attending with him, but the smile on your face gets him mad.

He scoffed, ignoring the whole situation and focusing on the transformation process, completely missing the look of sadness on your face when he left without even acknowledging your presence, his mind deep in different thoughts.

Of course you’d be happy without him.

However, the success in becoming an animagi had him smiling. He was a big black cat—a royal panther, while his other friends turned into a bird and a dog.

He went out to explore the place in his animal form, getting out of Hogwarts castle to visit the black lake, not once thinking that he would find you here at night.

Your back looked peaceful as you stared at the lake, and he was silent as he made his way towards you, almost scaring you the second you saw a black panther settling down next to you, a gasp leaving your mouth as your eyes shined under the moonlight.

“Hi, I’ve never seen you around before,” you spoke up, fascinated, extending your hand to stroke his fur.

Jay didn’t expect this, and he knew he didn’t have to pretend in this form, making him purr with pleasure as you gently caressed him. He was a cat after all. The warmth of your kindness was driving him crazy, he so desperately wanted you to like him back, but he knew you wouldn’t.

It became a routine for him to sneak out to meet you at night in his animal form, and he adored how you shared all your secrets with an animal, talking to him, letting him rest his head on your lap and as far as kissing his head in adoration.

He was in love with you.

He loved how you welcomed him with a pretty smile, the same smile which he wipes off your face in his human form.

Everything was going smoothly, to the point Jay had even started staring at you between classes, not being as rude as he used to be before and you never hesitated on smiling back at him, ever so kind. He wanted to talk to you, face to face, and confess.

However, that plan went down the drain. The same Ravenclaw boy was seen standing close to you, a conjured flower in his hand which he presented to you with a wide smile while Jay watched it unfold with the nastiest scowl on his face.

So being petty, Jay practically shoved you out of the way, not looking back even after hearing a little “ouch” coming from your direction as you stumbled, ignoring when you called out his name, rather proceeding to the next class.

He didn’t see you there, and he tried not to act affected by your absence, assuming that you’d have gone with the other guy, relaxing when he saw you in potions class again, his eyes never leaving your face which looked distressed. Especially after you took a sniff of the amortentia, the love potion.

His heart lurched, wondering if you smelled the other guy. And in his case, he knew he was doomed the second he took a sniff and instantly smelled of your body lotion and your favourite delicacy. His eyes met yours that very second and he had to gulp, looking elsewhere to pretend that he was fine.

That night, with a heavy heart, he sat down next to you in his animagi form yet again, this time he found you at the astronomy tower, a bandage around your arm.

“Hey, love,” you welcomed the black panther, “it’s such a pretty night,” you sighed dreamily, petting the panther next to you.

“You mind if I talk?” You asked, chuckling when the panther nodded as if he understood what you meant, “I don’t understand boys. I really like this guy but he’s been mean to me to see. It’s pathetic, isn’t it? That I smelled him in the love potion and he’s the reason why I stumbled and hurt my arm—I just can’t help it, I wish Jay would like me back but he doesn’t even look my way without wanting to look away or just comment about how I’m just a weak Hufflepuff girl,” you mumbled, not focusing on how the panther had stood up all of a sudden.

Jay’s heart thumped, he wasn’t sure if he heard it right, but it was too much, he couldn’t wait anymore.

He transformed back into his human form right there, your eyes widening as you opened your mouth to scream, which he put a hand over to muffle your voices.

“That—that was you!” You whisper-yelled, shoving him away.

“Did you mean it?” He asked, grabbing your wrist which made you lean against the wall, “that you like me?”

You could barely breathe, biting your lip as you nodded, “I know you hate me—”

“Oh, you know nothing, baby,” he chuckled, grabbing your nape and pulling you into a kiss, making your eyes widen before he pulled you even closer, making you kiss him back eventually, getting fervent with your actions.

“Fuck, I like you so much. It was you who I smelled, in the love potion, I mean. I’m sorry for being an asshole, I never knew how to handle feeling this way for you,” he apologized, cutting the kiss and leaning his forehead against yours.

Instead of replying, you pulled him into another kiss, letting his hands wander all over your body, his self control leaving his body. He knew he had you now, and he knew he wouldn’t be letting go, especially after the little whimpers leaving your mouth the second he started kissing your neck after leaving your lips all swollen.

You were too sensitive, too forgiving.

Rubbing your thighs together didn’t help either, but the second he squeezed your bare thigh, you knew you were gone. It was the ideal place for you both to be doing this, but stopping wasn’t an option, not when he was so passionately marking you just after you told him you rejected the other boy.

Spreading your legs was easy, asking you to be a good girl and keep your voices at bay was even easier for Jay, and you obliged, your eyes rolling back as he lapped at your cunt, licking big stripes while fucking your cunt with his fingers, trying to be gentle but you were too pent up to ask him to go slower, only urging him to move faster.

That’s how you spent your night, he took you to his chamber, kicking everyone out shamelessly to fuck you into the mattress, his cock not having enough of you and your pussy clenching him, trying to hold him in for as long as you could before you both reached your high.

He knew he fucked up before but now that he actually had you in his arms, he knew he was going to cherish you forever.

Ravenclaw!Jake x Gryffindor!reader

Trope: Yule ball, fake dating

Jake was loved by everyone and he basked in the warmth of it. Being good in academics came naturally to him, he was a Ravenclaw after all. Adding to it, he was selected to represent Hogwarts at the triwizard championship, his fame and name more glorious than ever these days.

The problem? He had everyone’s attention but the girl who he claimed to have a tiny crush on.

He wanted to ask her to be his date for the Yule ball, however, the chances were slim as another Gryffindor boy named Heeseung, asked her right before Jake could even call out her name.

Jake wasn’t the only one suffering. You stood there beside him, watching the scene unfold with the same wrath in your eyes.

You wanted to go to the ball with Heeseung.

“Tough luck?” Jake asked, not sparing you a glance as you both watched him from a distance as they hugged gleefully.

“Talk about yourself, champ,” you crossed your arms, “she didn’t even think twice before saying yes,” you commented, jaw clenching, “she’s gonna get her heart broken, he’s gonna turn her into a situationship too.”

“What? We have to warn her,” Jake spoke, eyes widening.

“Oh, I tried, but she actually really likes Heeseung,” you huffed, “and here I thought I meant something to him.”

“Go with me,” Jake breathed out, finally looking your way, taking your beauty in.

“What?” You exclaimed, turning your head to look his way too.

He was beautiful, there’s no denying him. His hair was a bit on the messier side, lips pink and swollen from biting (he was nervous), and eyes full of hope.

“To make Heeseung jealous, of course!” He defended his statement and your eyes widened in understanding.

“Oh,” you let out, “so we’re doing all this fake dating thing, now?” You teased him, loving how his cheeks got redder but he only stepped closer, shrugging.

“We’ll have fun, you’ll get to be with the triwizard champion, it’s a win-win for you,” he offered, smirking and you smiled humorously.

“Sure,” you agreed, not paying attention to Heeseung who witnessed this interaction of yours.

It was easy to keep up with him, the rumours of you two being together spread like wildfire, especially with the Yule ball coming up, which only favoured you, granted that Heeseung had tried to approach you several times but Jake hadn’t left your side at all.

In fact, you were scared how easy it was to be in his company, “she wanted me to teach her how to ride the broom,” Jake had told you once, and he was one heck of a flyer, despite him not being in the team.

Naturally, you offered him to teach you that instead, watching how his eyes lit up and he nodded. Something about Jake was endearing to you—like how he helped you ride the broom with him sitting behind you. It felt real, too romantic the way he held on to you, smiling as he pointed out the various spots you could see from the height.

And you knew he felt it too, his heart pumping out of his chest as you rested your back against him.

It felt too real to him when you got him a tie that matched the colour of your dress, asking him to match with you, and he realized he had stopped thinking about the other girl completely as he helped you around with studies and you helped him feel alive.

Somewhere along the lines, you had forgotten that it was all fake, simply because it felt real to the both of you. The hand holding, the snuggling closer, the soft smiles on your faces, none of it was fake.

It didn’t hit you till you were on your way to meet Jake, only to find the other girl already talking to him in a corner, your jaw clenched at the sight of them talking about something you couldn’t make out from this distance. Your mind wasn’t sane as you stepped back and rushed to your own room, wondering if they had gotten together.

You knew it could very well be a misunderstanding, yet you didn’t do anything about it, especially when Jake didn’t come to meet you at all today.

You were slightly heartbroken as you woke up the next day, everyone seemed happy to the point they couldn’t stop talking about the Yule ball tonight, doing their hair and skincare already and you tried to join them, knowing that you can’t run away from it no matter what the situation would be.

Now, clad in your gown, you most certainly did feel better, looking in the mirror to find the prettiest version of yourself, you felt beautiful as you walked down the stairs, smiling gently when you found Jake waiting for you by the stairs.

His breathing hitched the second he saw you, eyes twinkling as he took you in, heart beating faster when you stood in front of him. It was magical how he took your hand, kissing your knuckles gently, “you look beautiful,” he whispered, your face heating up at the compliment.

So, you postponed asking him about the other girl, focusing solely on him as you were called for the first dance with Jake—the Hogwarts champion. He treated you well, he looked like the prettiest man alive, pulling you closer and dancing with you like he meant it when the rock band came out, but after a while, you stopped, pulling him out when he got you drinks to talk by some secluded area—a classroom nearby.

“I saw you guys talking,” you told him, admitting how you would be okay if he leaves you now and he how doesn’t need to put up this act anymore, making his heart lurch, “fuck—no! I asked her to stay away because,” he gulped as he met your eyes, “because I like you, not her.”

Everything felt rushed after, his lips on yours, your fingers in his hair, bodies pressed against one another as he messed up your lipstick, “I like you so much,” he kept mumbling between the kisses, lips trailing down to mark your neck.

He knew what he had to do—kiss every inch of you till you understood the depth of his words. He wants you so genuinely it makes your heart beat faster, his eyes full of earnestness as he comes up to kiss you again, but more than that, he wants to taste you, give you the pleasure you deserve.

Getting down on his knees was easy for him, getting under your gown even easier. You breathed in deeply when you felt him burying his nose in your pussy, pushing your panties aside to lick a stripe of your cunt, leaving a small kiss on your clit right after.

His movements were slow and calm, his hold on your thighs tight as he devoured you, seeming as if he’d be hungry for ages. You could have sworn you never felt this way before, gripping the table you were leaning against tightly, you tried your best not to fall down with how your knees were getting weaker by the second as his tongue was pushing around much faster than before.

“Jake—” you gasped, seeing stars as you finally came undone, your whole body felt as if it was on fire but Jake was just getting started with you.

Getting out, he looked more disheveled than ever, taking your hand and making you feel his hardened cock, “see what you do to me, baby,” he whispered, pulling you into another kiss, unzipping your dress as you cried about how much you need him.

Soon, your dress was on the ground and his body was connected with yours in a slow rhythm, full of lazy kisses and smiles, your face hidden in his neck as you bit him to conceal your moans when he hit that one spot which had your whole body weak.

You looked so beautiful, it made him lose his control, the sight itself had him twitching with the need to fill you up.

When you kissed him again, he finally let go, loving each second of it, knowing that you were truly his now.

Gryffindor!Sunghoon x Slytherin!reader

Trope: quidditch players, enemies to fwb

“Gryffindor! Gryffindor! Gryffindor!”

“Slytherin! Slytherin! Slytherin!”

The chants were loud, the crowd going wild at the sight of you and Sunghoon circling around each other before the game—something you always did as a challenge. It most certainly didn’t help that you were on par with each other, both chasers for your respective houses.

Watching you guys bicker was something everyone enjoyed, especially when it was about your houses and their reputations.

“You better watch out, Park,” you smirked, taking your position, “Slytherin is taking the win today,” you sang, watching his smirk grow.

“In your dreams, darling,” he whispered, winking at your right as the whistle blew.

The chants were loud and so was your motivation as you grabbed the Quaffle, successfully throwing it in one of the hoops as the crowd cheered. Watching Sunghoon scowl was a sweet treat, especially when you winked at him, passing by with the quaffle again.

The game continued for a while, your house leading by thirty points, much to Sunghoon’s dismay. You were having more fun teasing him rather than playing the actual game.

However, the second the snitch was caught by your seeker, Sunghoon got hit by a bludger, falling off his broom. You should have been celebrating his downfall (pun intended) yet you couldn’t help but worry, eyeing his figure while your team celebrated their win.

It was out of character for you to visit him in the hospital wing, but you did it, showing up with the pudding he liked—and you had no clue why you knew it. He was surprised to see it, looking away with a scoff, “why are you here, huh? To boast about your win?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes, “I came here to see if you were doing well but seeing as you can still work that mouth of yours, I’ll just assume it’s alright,” you huffed, leaving the pudding behind. Sunghoon gulped, watching you leave the hospital wing with a huff before eyeing the pudding and eating it, a sudden warmth spreading in his chest.

The bickering worsened since that day, because you had to overcome the fact that you showed care to him, your friends telling you to fuck the sexual tension out—which you won’t do even in your wildest dreams.

Sunghoon was just as furious cause he couldn’t stop thinking about you showing up at the hospital wing just to visit him, his taunts and that smirk annoying you more than ever now, you just wanted to punch him, or shut him up. It didn’t help that he looked awfully attractive with that smirk of his.

Fighting even during the dinner time was getting on everyone’s nerves, to the point you had to go to detention for pulling pranks on each other.

To diffuse this tension, he met you before the next quidditch match you had against him, “oh, ready to have your ass beat, Park?” You asked him with a mock smile.

“We’ll see who gets their ass beat, darling,” he spoke, invading your personal space by whispering in your ear, “let’s make a bet, if I win then I get to fuck you tonight.”

“What the fuck, Park?” You asked, eyes widened.

“You want it too, baby.” He says, a lazy smirk playing on his face, “besides, I won’t bother you ever again if I lose. So, do we have a deal?”

The deal was too tempting, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the fact that you’ll, (1) either be ignored by him or (2) have sex with him.

You grabbed his hand, shaking it with no aim whatsoever, you felt too lost but also determined to put up a good game.

However your mind was busy imagining his lips on yours, the smirk still present on his face, and that’s how you barely put the Quaffle in through the hoops while Sunghoon played with more energy than ever, awfully determined to win the match—win you.

The verdict? He won.

And as lost as you felt, you weren’t sad about it, in fact you were staring at Hoon who was celebrating, his eyes still on yours with that stupid smirk on his face which clearly said: you’re mine for the night.

Being in his room was crazy, the fact that he had successfully pushed out all his roomies was even crazier.

“Not fighting back anymore, kitten?” He raised his brows, his features looking sharper up close now that he had you under him, his weight on you barely giving you any space to move, his scent only driving you crazier.

“You’re the one who gave up, Park,” you finally whispered, pulling him closer by the collar with your usual expression full of mock, your finger tracing his jawline, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, “you proposed the idea of fucking me—been thinking about me then?”

His fingers traced the curve of your neck, trailing down till he settled on grabbing your waist, “what if I have? What if I wanna see you shut the fuck up when I make you cry on my cock?”

“I’d like to see you try,” you chuckled, pushing your knee up to caress against his crotch, making him hiss.

It didn’t take him any longer to practically rip off your robes, attaching his mouth to your nipples, flicking them with his tongue as he cupped your cunt as a warning to shut your mouth, but you couldn’t let him win, opening your mouth to mock him again, only to have his tongue shoved down your throat, his fingers kneading your flesh, rubbing your wetness with all his strength to have you whimpering under him.

“I hate you so much, Park,” you mumbled, breathless.

“Feeling’s mutual, kitten,” he groaned right beside your ear, finger fucking you now as his thumb worked your clit roughly, yet giving you the kind of pleasure you never thought you’d receive.

You feel hot as the guy you hate makes you moan uncontrollably, stopping right before you were about to reach your high with his same stupidly attractive smirk when you whined out of desperation.

“What’s the hurry, kitten? We’ve got all night.”

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #jay smut #jake smut #heeseung smut #sunghoon smut #kpop smut #enhypen #enhypen reactions #enha smut

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cvnt4him · 7 months ago

Note

Emergency request bc I’m literally struggling so bad and feeling neglected as shit rn

ofc if you’re up to it pooks ik ur alr stressing over stuff and I don’t want to make it worse :(

Maybe some iida or monoma x reader that try’s hard to do stuff but always gets neglected? Thanks pooks 💕

I hope I got to this in enough time for you, I'm sorry for whatever you're going through n trust you're not making my situation any worse, you're actually helping me get rid of writers block so ty for this n I hope this reaches you well and is what you hoped for🫶🏽🫶🏽

mha boys x reader.

Included; izuku midoriya, kirishima ejirou, bakugou katsuki, tenya iida, monoma neito, denki kaminari.

Not in order.

Genre: angst? comfort/feel-good/fluff.

Izuku midoriya is none other than a saint. He helps everyone around him and he strives to keep his good boy/golden boy title. You admire him for that and you know others do, you also know one day he'll not only be yours but belong to the world. It gets to you but you try so hard to not let it.

When you two started dating no one knew at first, but izuku couldn't just stand by and let people not know that you were his. That he finally had a girlfriend who thought he was worthy of love. You truly felt that he deserved to be loved and he felt so seen with you, more than anyone else had ever made him feel.

Sooner or later after people found out, people began giving you such disgusting looks. Mostly girls you noticed. They would whisper about you when you were alone and look at you with mean and disgusted looks and they would laugh at you while you walked. No matter what you did you always had eyes on you. People laughing at the way you ate or spoke or dressed, it was draining.

You knew why it was happening and you tried so hard not to let it get to you. But none of that could even begin to compare to once your friends found out the two of you were dating.

You walked into the girls locker room to see all of the girls standing in a circle, you had already heard through the door they were having a conversation however you didn't exactly try to make out what they were saying. They all turned to look at you before slowly looking away to continue dressing, the silence had gotten rather too loud for your liking. They were just having a conversation before, why stop now that you were there? It bugged you the wrong way but you didn't want to make a commotion.

"so you and midoriya?"

Mina questions looking you up and down with a pointed look. She was one of your best friends, why was she looking at you like you're being investigated in a murder?

"uh.. yeah! We're dating."

You confirmed turning away to finish undressing. She hummed sucking her teeth and crossing her arms.

"you're dating him.. whilst knowing ochako liked him the whole time?"

She instigates, trying to get you to admit something. What the hell? Why would she say this? It's not your fault ochako didn't confess to izuku in enough time. It's not your fault he agreed to date you. It's not your fault he wanted everyone to know, so why was she trying to grill you like it was?

"look. I don't know what you're trying to get out of me, but--"

"just that you're a backstabbing bitch."

Silence filled the room once more as you scoffed clearly offended. She and the other girls stared at you with such disgusted and disappointed looks. You look around the room to see everyone staring at you with hatred and spite.

"are you fucking kidding me?!"

You ask around looking at all of them, there was no way they all hated you this much because you liked a boy.

"I mean.. you did kind of steal him off from under her.."

"you knew she liked him. Kind of bitchy."

"what about girl code, dude"

All the girls began saying their own opinions ganging up on you and practically eating you alive. They all shared their own fair share of mean words and side eyes before you finished getting dressed and slammed your locker shut making them all quiet down.

"fuck all of you."

You spat out while flipping them all off and leaving the room. You couldn't believe they're trying to decapitate you because ochako didn't have the balls to do what you did. Why does that make you a bad person.

The week started getting harder and harder as everyone, even some of the boys who knew ochako liked deku, started distancing themselves from you, al because of what mina would whisper in their ears, feeding them whatever she could pin in her web. And like the idiot fools they were, they believed her.

You were being neglected by your friends, all because you liked a boy. It began to be too much for you. Putting up this front for everyone who didn't even bother to see it or even your side of the story. You can't be happy with someone who has all these people liking them and making you feel shitty for also liking them. Maybe you'd have to break up with izuku.

When you came to him with this information he was furious. But not even with ochako or mine. With everything. The fact you'd been feeling shitty and didn't tell him and the fact you didn't tell him these people were bothering you. Izuku loves you more than he does himself and he isn't afraid to show that. He also loves his friends but he isn't going to let these people sit here and make you feel like shit because you're together.

He held you close that night, assuring you he wouldn't let this stand any longer. He was going to confront everyone for whatever they said to you and he wouldn't give a single shit about it. You were his and he loves you.

"I'm sorry for the way you've been feeling, love. I'm sorry that people have been treating you shitty and neglecting you because of our relationship. But you don't need any of them as long as you have me."

Tenya iida, one of the most compassionate hard working and caring people anyone has ever been graced to know. He is strong resilient and brave. He cares so much about everyone and it's so admirable. Some people see him as a wack job robot who just yells and screams or dotes too hard but to you he's perfect. An angel sent from the heavens above.

You've been working hard on something for a really long time. You hadn't told anyone about it because when you planned on it you wanted to also tell them the good news that would come with it. However that good news nevwr came. What you were doing wasn't good enough and it effectsd you deeply. Your grades fell, you started getting rather sluggish with your movements and you jardlt had the energy for anhone kr anyrhing.

Not getting the good news for what you've done was draining. It drained you to the point you wanted to break down and cry, yet nothing would come out. When people told you what you worked hard on, for so long, wasn't enough. It broke you, scarred you deeper than you could even begin to imagine. But tenya seen, he seen how you began to act, how you began to look more and more dead, how you'd began neglecting yourself. It was all too much for him to bear or watch you go through alone. He couldn't sit by and watch the love of his life perish.

Tenya held you in your dorm and let you cry on his shoulder for as long as you needed, having tissues on standby and rubbing your head gently. Placing kisses on top of your forehead and shushing you lightly as you both cuddled, he would be patient with you. He would wait until you were ready to talk or open up about what you were going through, but for now he wanted you to know you were loved and that he was proud of you.

"I love you, y/n. So much more than you could possibly fathom. I see you, and I am so incredibly proud of you. You are worthy and deserve someone who would move heaven and earth for you, I hope I am adequate enough for you."

Dating bakugou katsuki was hard. Not because he was an angry fiery shit head, but because he had such a burning passion for what he did. He never stopped striving and fighting to get what he wanted. He knew what he wanted and grasped at it and held onto it tight. It was nothing less than admirable.

The fact he could come back to you and tell you he loves you was admirable. He loved you and that meant so much to you. You loved him just as much and tried so hard to show up and be there for him. Through thick and thin, lows and highs, you wanted to be by his side regardless. He loved you for that reason alone, but he'd give you so many other reasons why he loves you.

He seen how hard you were working, how hard you were trying, how no one dared to even glance at you. He seen a faller bird that had potential and was worthy. Bakugou katsuki seen you. He wanted you and promised you he'd love you.

But for fucks sake, it always angered him to watch you get in such moods. To watch you neglect yourself and struggle with bad things. To put yourself under so much pressure and stress for no reason. When you'd cry your eyes out alone because you were tired.

He wanted to do so many things to you in that moment, but all his body could do was rush to you and hold you. He held you tightly, his fingers digging into the side of your hip. He buried his face in your neck and inhaled your sweet scent that always made him go feral.

You were his and he wouldn't dare let you sit here and feel shitty over whatever it was that was making you feel this way. He pushed and poked at every corner he could to get you to talk. Once you did he told you to shut the fuck up. You wanted to cry even more but you were sure he had reason to it.

And boy did he, he had such caring words laced with such menas things that were all wrapped in the cutest bow. He was emotionally constipated and had a hard time making people feel better. But watching him slightly struggle to find nice words to make you feel better while holding you close in his arms makes you feel so much better. Giggling at how he stammered over his words and how he tried to uphold a gentle voice to match the gentle strokes of his fingers on your side.

"look.. just. sigh. You're great okay. I love you and I'm not gonna just sit here n' let you whine n' shit for nothin'. Don't let whatever stupid shit is bothering you get t'ya. Or I'll beat yer' fuckin' ass."

Being kirishima eijirou's girlfriend was nothing other than a pure utter blessing. To be blessed with such an amazing caring and helpful boyfriend like him was genuinely a gift from the god above. He treated you like a queen who deserved to be worshipped.

It didn't take long for him to notice how hard you were struggling with things. He made sure before you got back to his dorm that it was all cozy and comfortable for you. One of the most romantic gestures he could have ever done for you. The way he had his laptop on his bed with so many plushies and comfortable pillows, and the fluffy cover he has and all the snacks you could ever imagine. He was nothing more than a blessing.

He held you tight and let you watch whatever you wanted, kirishima doesn't care about weight or anything like that, [yes I had to add this bit, bite me.] He loves training and working out with you, sure but he would never force you to do those things. He wants you to be nothing but comfortable with him and your body, so he would never shame you for how much you are or how you are in front of him. He loves you, all of you and he made sure you knew that. He kissed you and told you he loved you so many times. You fell asleep in his arms while he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

"I love you.. I hope this could make you feel better. I will always be here for you."

Denki kaminari. Where to even begin with him. He was such a funny guy that it was hard to tell when he was joking or being serious about committing arson. He always made sure you knew that he loved you. He always hung by you and stayed by your side. He wouldn't ever tell you but he was a bit insecure. There were some things about himself he wished he could change for you, some things he wished he could do for you. He never intended to bring himself down but sometimes he thought you were this super cool goddess who was worthy of something more than a tiny little pebble like him. He felt like he was gum beneath your shoe.

Denki knew he wasn't good at a lot of things, he knew he could be dumb or even useless at times but when he seen how short you were feeling and how you would start crying because of how stressed you were he couldn't just sit by and let you feel this way.

He let you vent to him like you laid in his arms. He let you out face masks on him and let you do his hair or paint his nails or draw on him and just let your rant to him about all of your worries and woes. He wanted you to feel the way you made him feel so he tried hard to keep his mouth shut and listen. Whenever he'd notice you quieting down because you thought he was getting tired of listening he'd ask you "why'd you stop?" It'd make you feel so happy to have someone like him.

Finally after you were finished he decided to carefully pick and close his words to make himself sound just a bit smarter and more cool for you.

"hey...I'm sorry that you're going through this.. I wish there was something a bit more that I could uhm.. do? I don't want you to feel like I'm a burden but I promise you I'm here for you, if you ever want to vent like this again or just have someone to talk to, or-- or even just sit in silence with someone.. I'm here."

Neito monoma, he's quite the distinguished fellow. He always hated class 1A and he seemed to make his whole personality about just that. Or so you thought. You two getting together was not on your 2024 bingo. But he knew how to make you feel things.

He gave you butterflies by just smiling. His laugh was loud and carefree. He wasn't afraid to boast and brag about anything you did, he even did it in front of you. It was hard to feel insecure with him around. He wanted the world to know you were better than them, especially class 1A.

He would give you flowers or cute bows or just things he felt you'd like. He learned you and your every move well. He'd even practice certain conversations before the two of you have them. He felt you were rather predictable in an exciting way. A way that could never make him unlove you.

You being in a bad mood angered him, he confronted you about it and was so ready to beat someone's ass. With his words. But once you assured him why you were feeling this way his gaze softened. He grabbed you by your shoulders and pulled you into a hug. One that felt like it could last an eternity. One that you hoped would.

He sighed and just held you for a while and took it to his bed which led to a cuddle sesh. He rubbed your shoulder while you buried your face in his chest, he felt the way your breath fanned all over him and it made a shiver go down his spine.

You listen to his heartbeat and breathe in as much of him as you could, you were afraid if you didn't take all of him in right now he might disappear. Every time he kissed your forehead lightly or peppered kisses over your ear snapped you back into reality and helped you realize this was real, that he was real and was with you. That he loved you and would do anything for you.

"I love you darling and I hope you know just how much I do. I'm rather angry that you hadn't told me how you were feeling but I suppose I can let it go for now.. get some rest, my love."

AN: so I decided to make it a to character thing n don't even mind that I basically made a whole story for izukus... We all know how I feel ab him..

Also off topic and not that anyone cares but I'm thinking ab updating my masterlist yk? Js make it more aesthetically pleasing to myself. Also I wrote this all in one go, this took ab maybe two hours?????

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ceoofglytchell · 2 months ago

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Caterpillar (Prequel to “Butterfly”)

| Prequel | Part 1 | Part 2 |

Summary: Before you were Aegon’s cherished little butterfly, you were nothing more than an insect he wished to crush under his shoes. Over the years his feelings grew from hatred, to indifference, to friendship and to the beginning of a young love that was doomed from the very moment he first laid his eyes on you. This is the story of how the young prince and the princess slowly began to fall for each other. Pairing: Young!Aegon II Targaryen x Strong!Niece!Reader  Word count: 5936 words Warnings: incest, Reader is described of having Strong features, Reader is Aegon‘s niece and Rhaenyra’s second child, enemies to friends to lovers, young love, brief mention of abuse from Otto and Alicent, fluff, longing, hurt/comfort, bittersweet ending, no mention of Y/N  Notes: I AM BACK! For the lovely anon who requested a prequel to „Butterfly“. This is my first requested fic and I had much fun writing it. Enjoy 💛

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Aegon, second of his name and a proud boy of almost four years, stared with an expression of disgust and disinterest at the small newborn babe in his half-sister's arms, who was still lying exhausted in bed, sweat dripping down her forehead and neck, while you screamed so loud as if there was no tomorrow.

Next to him stood his father the king, staring down at his firstborn daughter with an expression of pride - an expression he had never seen in his eyes whenever he looked at him. His own mother was not here with them and he wondered why. Where was she? Did she not want to meet you?

"Would you like to hold her?" Rhaenyra asked the king exhaustedly, holding out her newborn to him. It was a little girl who was actually only due in a few weeks, but you had apparently decided to come earlier than, for example, your brother or Aegon with his own mother, which is why you were smaller and more delicate. At least that's how the midwives explained your delicacy.

"I would feel honored," said King Viserys the Peaceful with a little laugh and took you in his arms while he gently rocked you back and forth.

Aegon had actually just wanted to play, but he had been sitting in the library with his Septa earlier, who chatted far too much and whom he could hardly listen to properly, which is why it was just right when a guard asked him if he wanted to meet his niece, who had just left the womb at that time. Of course he had ran off immediately, but you were somehow... ugly. Your loud crying and screaming hurt his ears and he had to hold back from making a face.

Suddenly his father leaned down a little so that he could get a better look at you, whereupon his half-sister sat up a little in bed as if she didn't trust him, even though he was only a little boy and didn't know what kind of burden he would one day carry on his shoulders. The king's firstborn son, but he was not the heir to the Iron Throne. He was a prince who inherited nothing. A life without meaning. Of course, he didn't realize that at the time.

"Look... it's your little niece."

Rhaenyra whispered your name once and the young prince nodded and tried to remember it. Another face had seen the light of day and another sound of happy laughter would soon echo through the cold corridors of the Red Keep.

Of all his half-sister's children, you were by far the one he disliked the most. Aegon came to this realization when he was almost ten years old, when, out of boredom, he asked you instead of your older brother Jace if you would like to play with him, but after you tripped and accidentally fell you immediately started crying as if you had been impaled with a lance, and his mother later gave him a slap in the face behind closed doors that he could still feel on his pale cheek days later.

You had simply fallen over the ends of your dress when you were playing a game in which he had to catch you, but hitting your forehead on the hard stone floor of the Red Keep was definitely too much for a delicate thing like you to bear.

But while you, at the age of six, had already stood up for him and assured your mother several times that he had not pushed you on purpose, Queen Alicent forbade her eldest son to play with Rhaenyra's only daughter again, not because she really cared about your wellbeing, but because in her eyes you were nothing more than a bastard who did not deserve to be called a princess.

Instead, the silver-haired prince had taken to annoying his younger brother Aemond and called for the help of his brown-haired nephews, always excluding you and Helaena.

To the world you seemed like a happy girl, always friendly and always carrying a smile on your face, but you too secretly felt lonely. You never really understood Helaena and you were very afraid of everything that crawled and had more legs than four, which is why you avoided the other girl rather than spending the day with her. Aemond was the same age as you and you liked reading books with him in the library, to be engrossed in thick history books with him and your nose being buried deep in a fairy tale, but at least you could talk to the younger Targaryen prince and share some nice moments.

At least until Aegon and your brothers started making fun of you, which had quickly made your only friend leave your side, as he had already heard enough jokes about how he hardly spoke a word or especially about how he did not have a dragon.

Neither did you, but that didn't seem to interest either of them, except maybe sometimes Jace and Luke, who at the end of the day from time to time apologized for their statements and also for Aegon's taunts. The prince, however, never apologized.

The hatred that you believed your uncle had for you was about to change on a cool summer evening on the day of your eighth birthday.

Dressed in a yellow gown that reminded you of the petals of a sunflower and with your brown hair intricately braided, you sat alone in the garden of the castle, leaning against the Weirwood tree that had probably been growing here for centuries. On your lap lay a new book about fables and songs from the distant lands of Essos, which your "father" Laenor had given you.

You were not stupid. Of course you were aware of the fact that Laenor could not be your father, since you looked too different, but your mother had forbidden you to bring up the subject. She hadn't even answered your question about who your real father was and what the deal was with her and Ser Harwin.

Completely lost in thought, you hadn't realized how a person had slowly and quietly approached you from the side, until he suddenly grabbed you by the shoulders and made you scream loudly.

"Aegon!" you shouted angrily, while the boy just held his stomach in laughter, a full cup of wine in his left hand. When had he started taking his drinks with him?

"Oh, come on! It was just a harmless jest, niece," he answered you, giggling, while he collapsed onto the grass a little further in front of you, which was still glistening with dew, the action not looking particularly graceful. He seemed slightly drunk, which made you wonder why no one took the cup away from him if you had noticed it yourself. Why didn't his mother, the Queen, pay attention? Or his grandfather, the Lord Hand?

"Jest or not, you scared me," you grumbled, folding your arms in front of your chest, while a pout formed on your face that even he couldn't miss.

"Hey, don't pout. Today is your name day, remember?"

"Yes. And you have not thought of giving me a gift, Uncle," you noted in a slightly disappointed tone, while your dark eyes searched his.

"Yes, I did," Aegon countered and threw something at you that you were only able to catch so quickly thanks to your reflexes. "Here you go."

"What is this?" you asked him, confused, as you took his gift in your hands and examined it curiously. You had already wondered why he was the only one in the family who hadn't given you a gift when even the queen had entrusted you with a bracelet from her hometown.

In your delicate hands was a small wooden box, which you did not open yet in fear that it might be one of his jokes again and that there would be something disgusting in it. Hopefully it wasn't a spider...

"Open it. The woman I got it from told me girls like that kind of stuff," Aegon said with a shrug, as he brushed his long wavy curls out of his face.

Carefully and with an expression of suspicion, you opened the small wooden box a crack and stared at its contents with wide eyes. Inside was a beautiful golden brooch in the shape of a coiled dragon, whose eye was represented by a fragment of a pearl. It was beautiful...

Aegon looked at you unnoticed as you looked at the brooch he had given you in awe. He had not thought that this little piece would impress you so much. The best thing was that he didn't even have to pay gold for it, since the old woman had just given it to him when she saw his silver hair. He himself didn't wear such junk, but you in your pretty dresses and shimmering earrings and necklaces would certainly appreciate the piece of jewelry and apparently he was right.

With eyes sparkling with joy and a wide grin on your lips, you took the piece of jewelry out of the box and immediately put it on your dress right above your heart and when you looked at him, he needed a moment to come to terms with his thoughts.

It was probably the wine that was clouding his senses, wasn't it?

"And? Does it suit me?" you asked him excitedly in your normally gentle voice.

He swallowed. "Yes... it's pretty. You are pretty.”

For a moment you just stared at him, unable to believe that he-of all people!- had just called you pretty and given you the most wonderful gift of the evening. You liked the dragon brooch even more than the book and also much better than the wood carvings that your brothers had given you.

"I-I think I'd better leave you alone again now," the prince said suddenly and began to stand up, whereupon you quickly shook your head and instinctively reached for his hand in the hope that he would stay and maybe keep you company for a while. He might annoy you sometimes, but you certainly didn't hate him for that.

"Stay! Please..."

You batted your eyelashes and if Aegon had been stronger, he might have been able to resist. But he wasn't.

With a sigh, he let himself fall back into the grass, whereupon his cup tipped over and the dark red liquid soaked the ground next to you, but for some unusual reason he didn't care.

"And what do you think we'll do, princess? I see neither dancing fools nor musicians for our amusement.”

You seemed to think for a moment, then your gaze fell on the book, which was now lying neglected on the ground next to the tree. You picked it up and held it right in front of his nose.

“I could read to you! It is a collection of legends and songs from Essos. Perhaps you will appreciate them more than your brother.”

His shoulders sagged a little and a quiet sigh escaped him, but he nodded his head anyway, because after all, you were the one who had the special day and had turned a year older. Today was your day to make decisions.

“Fine. Read to me then,” said Aegon, leaning against the bark of the old tree that had stood in the courtyard of the Red Keep for generations, a face carved into its center that sometimes seemed to stare at him judgingly. He didn’t like it.

His little niece immediately moved closer to him, almost snuggling into his side, and opened the book to the page she had stopped on before he had interrupted her. Appropriately, it was even a legend from Oldtown, the home of his mother the queen.

Her soft voice immediately enveloped him like a warm blanket as she began to read to him and his initially stiff posture eased as he began to allow himself to relax.

He hated to think about it, but maybe you weren't as bad as he had thought.

The first time he thought about kissing you was on a quiet evening when nothing really special had happened except that you, now a girl of almost eleven, had secretly gone riding with him.

Sitting on your snow-white mare, your long brown curls blowing in the wind, a wide grin on your pretty face, and your arms stretched out to feel the headwind, you looked like a midsummer night's dream. The brooch he had given you a few years ago hung on the fabric of your coat.

It was early in the morning and the two of you had sneaked to the stables before anyone else but you and a few guards had walked through the corridors, but he had managed to get you past the watchful eyes of the King's Guard unnoticed. You had mounted your horses as quickly as you could and ridden together into the King's Wood until you found a clearing that seemed good enough to rest for a while.

You sat on the grass in the shade of a tree and ate cakes that he had secretly stolen from the kitchens before as a surprise for you. You had managed to talk him out of the wine.

Crumbs were lying on your lap and you held your hand over your mouth to hide your laughter after he had been frightened by a bug that had crawled onto his arm, causing him to screech as if he were the girl and not you.

His usually pale cheeks were red with embarrassment - as red as the ripest strawberries you loved to eat for breakfast - and he crossed his arms grumpily in front of his chest, but he couldn't blame you for laughing. After all, he often made fun of you because he loved to see you sulk.

But suddenly your happy laughter froze when you felt something on your head. A small white butterfly had landed on your hair and was slowly flapping its wings up and down. Your laughter disappeared and you looked at him with wide eyes. Aegon's heart skipped a beat.

"Aegon... what is that?" you asked him fearfully, not moving a single muscle.

"Well... it's huge. Horrible. The biggest bug I have ever seen," he lied with a mischievous gleam in his purple eyes, causing you to whimper softly and he could swear tears began to form in your eyes. How sweet.

"Make it go away. Help me." You begged him with a trembling voice. Apparently you had actually believed his lie, which made him feel proud.

Very carefully he slowly moved closer to you until your elbows brushed, which made him feel hot on the inside, and you felt the same, even if you didn't notice it, too afraid of the monster that had settled on your hair. You had no idea what innocent creature had chosen you as its resting place.

The prince stretched out his hand and very carefully approached the butterfly with his fingers. He felt you and the little insect looking at him, and it was then he did notice that you were just as delicate and lovely as the butterfly. Perhaps you had been born into the wrong house? You were not at all a dragon.

The butterfly fluttered its wings and hopped onto his index finger, which he held in front of your nose with a wide, triumphant grin on his lips. A sweet blush immediately spread across your cheeks and your slender shoulders sagged as you realized that you had made a fool of yourself.

In front of him of all people. In front of the boy you had secretly admired for several weeks at this point.

"Oh..." you murmured quietly to yourself and looked down at your lap while the butterfly continued to rest on the tip of his finger.

"Look how small and delicate it is... just like you."

You blinked up at him again and at that very moment the little insect jumped off his finger and fluttered away until it finally disappeared behind a nearby rose bush and you were both alone again, your only company being the birds that flew over your heads or nested in the nearby treetops.

"That was not funny, Uncle," you grumbled quietly to yourself and crossed your arms in front of your chest once again, while a small pout adorned your lips, which he found absolutely adorable.

"I thought so, little butterfly," he replied with the hint of a smile on his face, which was slightly tickled by the warm rays of sunlight that fell through the canopy of leaves - at least his nose was.

"Little butterfly?" you repeated the nickname he gave you with a wrinkle of your nose, because you yourself didn't know whether you should feel flattered or insulted. How did he always manage to make you question your feelings over and over again? It was a phenomenon.

"You heard me."

His smile widened and you couldn't help but try to smack him on the arm as best you could, but he just chuckled at your efforts, because it felt like anything but a punch. In his eyes, you were a butterfly, sweet, pure and innocent, deserving to be protected as far away from the scum of House Targaryen, Hightower and Velaryon as possible. You deserved better than this. At the same time, the thought of you leaving him and living somewhere else made him furious.

He wanted you to be happy, but he also wanted you to stay right where you were and where you were comfortable - with him, your annoying, drunken uncle who couldn't wait to see the girl he was sitting with grow into a mature, beautiful woman he could claim for himself.

And hopefully, when the day came, you would want that too.

Laena Velaryon was dead and House Targaryen had gathered for her funeral on the island of Driftmark to mourn the loss. At least those who knew her, which the young children did not and therefore stood rather bored to the side.

Heleana was talking to a spider, Aemond was standing around alone, and the sons of Rhaenyra stood with the daughters of Daemon. Two, however, had sneaked away from the funeral and sat down on the beach, a jug of wine in one hand and a plate of cake in the other.

Aegon, now sixteen years old and almost a man grown, sat to your left on the white sands of the island. He was dressed head to toe in green - on the orders of his mother and grandfather the Hand - and his hair now fell to his chest, even though he secretly wished it were shorter. He didn't really like the length and the tradition behind it. The expectations.

You sat next to him, now almost thirteen, and you were getting more beautiful by the day. Your brown hair, the proof of your mother's shame, now fell to your elbows and your petite body was wrapped in a purple dress and black cloak, due to the grief you had to pretend to feel, even though you had never known this woman. Your mother had wanted to force you to wear red again, but you had stood up to her and bravely confronted her, telling her that this constant hostility was foolish.

Such disagreements were becoming more and more frequent between your mother, your brothers and you, because you and the eldest prince had become truly inseparable in recent years. The bond that bound you together was strong and apparently unbreakable, because even though he continued to make jokes and antics and you mostly felt insulted and hurt as a result, you still felt this feeling. This warmth around your heart, this tickling in your stomach that felt like little butterflies that were locked inside you like in a chest.

You had learned to love him and without your knowledge he had learned to love you too.

"She told me again today to stay away from you," you told him, staring into the horizon and hoping that fate had other plans for you.

"I know, sweet butterfly. Just don't listen to her. What does she know about us anyway? Nothing. She knows nothing.” Aegon replied, instinctively holding his cup, which was filled to the brim with Dornish wine, tighter in his hand. Actually, he felt no hatred towards his half-sister - your mother - but he disliked the way she told you over and over again that his company was not good for you, that his ways were spoiling you like a worm spoils a ripe apple.

Perhaps his own mother was right and Rhaenyra would seek his life at some point. He would not be surprised, as much as she seemed to despise him. What had he ever done to her? Or was it his very existence that she detested?

You stared down at the cake that was on the plate you held in your hand. You had been hungry a moment ago, but now you were not anymore.

“I don’t understand why we have to be here at all. None of us knew this woman." The prince grumbled, swirling the wine around in his cup, slowly moving it back and forth.

"She was my aunt-"

"But did you know her?"

You shook your head, one of your brown curls falling over your face and hiding half of your features from him like a veil. Sometimes he caught himself imagining a life with you, and lately his thoughts were not so innocent anymore. More and more often he woke up in the morning, desire burning through his veins, and he thought about you, how beautiful you were and how much more beautiful you would become if your curves continued to develop.

Criston had told him such desires were normal for a young man, but if the prince had admitted that you were the one who kept him awake at night, the man who was a second father to him probably wouldn't have understood either.

He carefully reached out his free hand to you and gently tucked the wild strand of hair behind your ear so that he could once again look into your dark eyes, which had always reminded him of a young doe. "What's going through your mind, niece?"

"Nothing. But... won't the others wonder where we are?"

Aegon was about to contradict you and tell you that you had absolutely nothing to fear when he suddenly heard his grandfather's loud, stern voice echo across the beach: "Aegon! Come here. Now."

You watched your friend anxiously as he straightened up and walked with slumped shoulders to the stone steps that would lead from the beach up to the fortress where the funeral was being held. You couldn't see exactly what was happening, but you swore that the old man grabbed his grandson's arm hard. The words he spoke to him did not seem particularly kind or compassionate, as the young prince quickly pulled away from him and disappeared in another direction.

However, he did not come back to you. He left you sitting alone on the beach with nothing but a glass of wine and a piece of cake. Now you had lost your appetite once and for all.

It was evening when you saw him next. The sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon and most people had returned to their chambers for the night or were getting ready for bed.

You did not know where your mother had gone or why there was suddenly no trace of Prince Daemon when he seemed to be in such a good mood at the funeral, even though he had just become a widower, but you were sure that you could not go to sleep without knowing where your friend was and how he was doing.

You found Aegon on the stairs that led to the beach behind. He was leaning drunkenly with his back against the cold, wet stone and his eyes closed. Next to him lay an overturned gold cup from which a small puddle of red liquid was running.

You had never seen him so drunk before.

Had he drunk himself to the point of unconsciousness?

This was the first time. The previous times you had seen him very drunk, he had at most strolled through the corridors slurring his words - or rather stumbled - and you or Aemond usually had to lead him back to his chambers, where he usually immediately fell onto his bed and sank into a deep sleep. But he had never fallen over because of the alcohol. You wondered what his grandfather had said to him that his first reaction was to get so drunk that he simply fell over.

You approached him carefully and knelt next to his sleeping form. Slowly and careful not to startle him, you reached for the now empty wine cup and put it to the side before gently placing a hand on his shoulder in the hope that he would open his amethyst colored eyes again. But he didn't.

"Uncle? Uncle, can you hear me?" you asked him timidly, leaning closer to him, so close that if he were awake he could feel your warm breath on his snow-white skin.

A mumble was all you got in response, but you couldn't understand any of the words or even guess what he was trying to say. Maybe he shouldn't drink so much... That couldn't be good for him in the long run.

When he didn't answer the second time either, you gently shook his shoulder and then finally his eyes fluttered open again and he blinked a few times in a row, as if he didn't understand where he was or why you were sitting so close to him, almost as if he couldn't remember what he had done before.

"What... what happened?" he asked you dazedly and sat up a little, whereupon a small, tortured groan escaped him.

"I was just about to ask you that," you replied with a smile on your soft, rosy lips. "You suddenly disappeared."

The older prince shrugged and stretched out his arm as if he wanted to reach for the wine cup that he assumed was at his side, but he only grabbed for air, as you had fortunately put it away a few seconds ago.

"I wasn't well. Nothing to worry your pretty head about, darling."

His answer wasn't enough for you, as the memory of Otto Hightower grabbing his arm and whispering angry words to him had not yet left your mind. There was more to it. You knew not what it was, but you suspected that it had something to do with you - or rather your features.

Your mother didn't want to name it, but you knew what you were. A bastard.

"You know that you can always be honest with me, Aegon. You don't have to hide anything from me. I am not your enemy."

At your words, his shoulders sagged and he felt a cold shiver run down his spine, but at the same time a warmth spread through him that he couldn't control and that burned in his eyes like the fire of his young dragon. He would not cry in front of you. He wanted to be strong for you.

"What was it?" you asked him again carefully, stroking his silver curls over his shoulder with one hand so that he would not be able to hide his face from you. You were already well aware of his tricks and you could guess what storm was sweeping through his head and throwing his thoughts into disarray like a hurricane over the sea.

"Did he scare you again? Told you you would be king?"

With every word you spoke, his heart tightened more and more in his chest and he could feel the tears burning hot in his eyes, ready to roll down his cheeks and disappear under the green fabric of his coat. You were too good for him, far too good. You were innocent and pure and he was corrupt and filthy. What had he done to deserve your affection? No one else seemed to think like you.

"Did he tell you to stay away from me?"

Without him being able to stop it, the first tear fell, then the second and suddenly he was sobbing bitterly and you could do nothing but take him in your arms and let him lay his head on your shoulder while you laid your cheek against his hair. He held on to you as if you were the last thing that bound him to life, as if you were the Mother herself who had wrapped her protective arms around him.

"He... he said the future king doesn't bother with the likes of you and that... that I would soon be married anyway and you too..." he sobbed into the fabric of your dress, while his arms wrapped themselves around your slim body and he pressed himself tightly against you, like a plush pillow he could bury his face in.

"That's not true and you know it. Mother would never give me to a man as a bride just yet. She wouldn't do that." You assured him while gently stroking his back. However, you didn't understand why this fact hurt him so much. One day, each of them would be married and bring more heirs into the world. That was the order of things, as the Septa's had taught you.

"But I don't want you to get married. I don't want you to be taken away."

More and more tears fell from his eyes and he couldn't help but tell you all the things that had been going through his head for weeks, months, and maybe even years. All his deepest desires, all the thoughts he hoped would never come to light, he laid at your feet like on a silver platter.

He only hated himself all the more for it.

"Why would they take me away from you? The Red Keep is my home. Mine and yours." You tried to talk to him, keeping your voice calm and collected, but you could feel yourself becoming more and more confused with every second that passed and with every word he whispered. He was falling apart in front of you and yet there was nothing you could do to ease his pain. You felt powerless.

"I don't want to marry just any woman," he murmured, hoping that you would recognize the pleading in his tone and understand what he longed for without him having to say it. He couldn't.

"She will be beautiful, Aegon. Beautiful, kind, smart and witty.”

Your list didn’t make it any better, because in his eyes you embodied all of those things. You were the woman you described, the one he wished he would marry sooner or later, but how would you know? How could you even guess what a bad friend he was to you. He was a bad man, a bad prince, a bad son, a bad brother and now a bad friend as well.

You listed other attributes that you hoped would calm him down, because what prince wouldn’t want a woman like that? Sometimes you wished you could be that one woman for him, the one he would spend his life by and learn to love. One who could call him “husband.” But that would probably never happen. You were just a foolish girl with equally foolish dreams.

“But I don’t want just any woman. I want… I want…” He couldn’t say it. He couldn't bring the words out of his mouth and instead he just clung to you tightly, burying his head even more in your shoulder before he managed to actually whisper those words that would haunt you from now on.

"I want you."

For a second it felt like the world stood still. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore stopped and the cool breeze of the evening wind only felt like a gentle touch, a light pat. There was a chance that you had misunderstood him, but you knew what you had heard. You knew it exactly.

"Uncle..."

"No, no, please listen to me," he begged immediately when he felt your arms, which were wrapped around him, loosen just a little and you tried to wriggle out of his grip. It was very important that you listened to him now.

"My little butterfly, you are the only one who sees me for who I really am and I know that I am not always easy, but you have to understand that you are the most important thing in my life. You mean everything to me."

You leaned back and let your eyes wander over his face, hoping to find a sign that this was just another one of his jokes and that he wasn't actually pouring his heart out to you. It reminded you of the books you loved to read. The poetry and the romance.

He wasn't lying. His eyes were honest and from the way he looked at you, as if you were the most precious thing to him, you knew that your relationship would be even more difficult in the future than it already was. The friendship between you two was not accepted by your family, but love? Like in the stories, this love was also forbidden, but in all the books the couples always had a happy ending with each other. Maybe everything would turn out well for you in the end too?

"My mother... she would never allow it," you muttered, shaking your head. and now you were the one who could feel your heart tightening painfully.

The prince shook his head firmly and he placed his hands on your cheeks, cradling your face in his palms while his thumbs gently stroked your cheeks, which were red from the cold and his words.

"I don't care. I promise you that one day I will marry you. I will take you as my wife, no matter the cost."

Without thinking, you closed your eyes and gently pressed your forehead against his. Your breath mingled and he closed his eyes too, continuing to gently hold your face in his hands. It wasn't a kiss, but for the two of you this moment had about the same meaning. It was the start of something new, something wonderful.

At that point, none of you could have guessed that not far away from you, a young, brave Aemond was approaching Vhagar with the intention of claiming the old dragon for himself. You did not know that he would soon lose his eye at the hands of his brother, nor that a discussion would then take place in the halls of Driftmark that would tear the two sides of your house apart, forever.

You could not have known that the very next day he would see you one last time and that you would then be torn away from him for six long years. How could you have known that beforehand?

But in that moment, in that embrace, everything was fine for you and you imagined together what your future might look like.

It would certainly be different than you had hoped, but your story would also come to a happy end eventually.

The dragons would dance and yet your souls burned to become one with each other.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

#house of the dragon #hotd #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii fanfic #tom glynn carney #ty tennant #hotd fanfic

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no-144444 · 3 months ago

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wallflowers like flowers too- o.piastri

Day 25 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: you never thought you'd find love, especially not with your best friend at his sister's wedding.

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You sighed as you looked down at your dress, another bridesmaid dress, another wedding, another day you didn’t want to deal with. You loved your friends, truly, and you were so happy for Hattie, she really loved Peter, and she definitely deserved the perfect wedding. You just couldn’t help but feel your heart ache when you remembered that you hadn’t been in a relationship for over 2 years. The last one had ended badly too, the guy cheating on you with your own sister. It had hit you pretty hard and you basically just took a step back from dating. That ‘step back’ turned into chronic single-ness, and now you were the only bridesmaid without a date.

“You look gorgeous,” Nicole smiled. You’d grown up with the Piastri’s, well, they’d all grown up, you’d stayed the same, at least in your eyes.

“Thanks Nic,” you smiled, trying desperately to not run and hide.

“I can’t wait until when I see you walking down the aisle,” she beamed.

You scoffed. “Like that’ll happen,” you joked, self-deprecatingly sighing.

“Don’t say that!” She scolded. “I have to see you walking down the aisle!”

There was a knock at the door that cut you off before you could say something else bad about yourself, and Oscar’s head popped out from behind the door.

“Hi,” he smiled at his mum. “Hattie needs to pee.”

“Oh! Y/n, come on,” Nicole grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the door. Hattie had a huge dress and definitely needed help holding it up.

Oscar stood starstruck as you two passed him by. He hadn’t seen you in years, and you were gorgeous. He’d always had a crush on you, but now? There was nothing holding him back, well, apart from his own shyness and awkward tendencies. And his hatred of small talk.

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Lando watched as Oscar’s eyes stayed focused on you, walking down the aisle hand-in-hand with one of the groomsmen. You looked radiant. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you, and Lando smirked.

“So who’s that?” he whispered.

“Y/n,” Oscar whispered, his eyes not leaving you.

“She’s pretty.”

“She’s gorgeous,” Oscar corrected.

“Can you introduce me?” Lando smirked, Oscar’s head whipped around to him with a death glare.

“You’re not her type.”

“And how would you know that?” He smirked.

“I just do, she was my best friend for a decade. I know her type,” he rushed out.

“And her type wouldn’t be a brown-haired, brown-eyed boy called Oscar Jack Piastri, by any chance?” He smiled cheekily.

“No,” he shook his head, blush creeping up his cheeks.

“You’re blushing!” He whisper-shouted, gaining him a harsh shush from the woman in front of him. “You’re blushing.”

“You’re being disruptive,” Oscar whispered, trying desperately to shut him up. “My sister is getting married, shut up.”

Lando finally gave in, shutting up as the ceremony commenced. Oscar watched as his little sister walked down the aisle, a beaming smile on her face and he had never been happier for her. He watched you as your eyes watered, elated that Hattie had found the one. He smiled at you, waving, when you finally noticed him in the pews. You smiled back, a slight nod of the head to signify that you saw him.

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“This is pathetic,” Lando slurred, slightly tipsy. He was practically hanging off of Oscar as he tried to stop him from drinking too much more. “Go after her!”

“Keep your voice down!” Oscar scolded, sounding too much like his own mother for his liking. “She’s less than 10 feet away.”

“She’s gorgeous, she’s your best friend, she’s cool, she’s everything, you love her, go for her!”

“Go for who?” You questioned, laughing at Lando’s drunken state.

“Oscars’ in love with someone,” he giggled.

You fake gasped. “Well you’ll have to tell me who?!”

“Not allowed,” he shook his head, still giggling.

“I’m so sorry,” Oscar started but you shook your head.

“This is entertainment, I would’ve been subjected to yet another dance with one of Aunt Darcy’s weird touchy friends,” you chuckled. “This is fun.”

He nodded (and made a mental note to seek those boys out), letting Lando continue.

“One clue!” He blurted out. “She’s really pretty. Like Oscar loves how pretty she is, but also how smart she is!” He covered his mouth with his hand, as if you were trying to pry the information out of him. “No more clues!”

Definitely a little bit more than tipsy.

“But Lando, you said you’d tell me if she’s here or not,” you fake pouted, lying through your teeth.

“Did I?” He questioned, asking himself the question more than anything. “Well,” he turned to a whisper. “She’s here, and she’s right in front of me.”

He clapped his hand over his mouth again, as you felt a bit more sober than before. Oscar’s face fell and he opened his mouth to apologise, but Nicole pulled you away for the bouquet throw.

You’d have to talk later.

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Oscar dumped Lando on Logan, the only other driver there and left for a bit of air. More than a decade's crush revealed in three seconds. His entire childhood of friendship might be gone. He looked out at the space in front of him. How was it that he could be on a beach in Melbourne and be unhappy? How could he be surrounded by the people he loved, the person he adored, and still manage to mess it up?

“Hey,” you smiled, illuminated by the soft glow of the fairy lights. The venue was beautiful, with a whole outside area. “I wanted to talk to you about… earlier.”

“I’m so sorry, Lando was just-“

“I know it was a joke Oscar, I’m not stupid,” you smiled. “I just wanted to clear the air.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why would you think it was a joke?”

You scoffed, a smile staying on your perfect lips. “You’re a Formula 1 driver, I’m the random girl you befriended in montessori. We’re not exactly in the same league, in anything.”

He was almost offended. Why would you ever think that he didn’t want you? Did you not know how he listened to your voicemails before every race, specifically the one you sent to him after his DNF last year? When you said you loved him?

“You’re the youngest partnered solicitor in Melbourne,” he listed. “You gorgeous, you’re smart, you're funny, you’re incredible, of course I’m in love with you,” he explained like it was obvious.

You went wide-eyed. “If this is a joke it would be a really cruel joke-”

“It’s not a joke!” he demanded. He lunged forward, grabbing you by the back of your neck and pulling you in for a kiss.

He tasted like the bubbly champagne, and that dumb vanilla lip balm you gave him all those years ago. His hands strayed down to your waist, holding you against him as he kissed you. He was insatiable, kissing you with all of him, trying desperately to show you just how much he loved you. He needed you to understand that you had been his goal from the moment he knew what love was. You were love. Whenever anyone would ask him about love, he’d just think of you. Even if he hadn’t seen or spoken to you in a while.

You. Always.

You cautiously ran a hand through his hair, finally kissing him back. He could’ve moaned right then and there. Kissing you was one thing, but having you kiss him back? Ecstasy. He couldn’t get enough of it, of you.

You tried to pull back but he held you there, somehow not running out of air, which is what you were doing.

“Osc-” you pulled back, panting. “I need to breathe.”

He nodded, unable to wipe the stupid smile off of his face as he caught his breath.

You looked back up at him and smiled. “So that was an… eventful conversation.”

He nodded. “It was.”

“I love you too, if I didn’t already make that obvious,” you chuckled shyly. His smile only widened.

He pulled you into his arms again, hugging you tight.

“Oh! I forgot to tell you!” You pulled back and produced Hattie’s bouquet. “I won the throw somehow.”

“No way,” he smiled.

“For you, since it’s technically our first date,” you smiled, handing them to him.

“You got me flowers, why?” he joked.

“‘Cause they’re pretty, like you.”

Oscar smirked. “Does this mean you're ready to get hitched already? It is Hattie’s bouquet.”

Your face turned to one of pure horror, answering honestly without thinking. “God no-” you clapped a hand over your mouth, slightly shocked at your own words. He pulled your hand down and kissed your lips, entirely happy with that answer.

“Only kidding baby.”

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You sat in Oscar’s passenger seat as he drove you, a passed-out Lando, and a drunk Logan back to your house, and you thought about the first time you ever suspected Oscar to like you.

“Hi,” his bright voice always lit up your day. You were 7, sitting in the yard, playing with toy cars.

“Hi Osc,” you smiled as he sat down beside you.

“I got you some flowers,” he blushed, pulling some dandelions he’d picked out from behind his back.

You raised an eyebrow. Only boyfriends and girlfriends got each other flowers, like Sasha and David, two other kids in your class. You and Oscar were not boyfriend girlfriend. “Why?”

“Because they’re pretty, like you,” he shrugged. “Come on, let’s race them!”

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You chuckled, thinking about who that interaction compared to today. You looked over at Oscar, admiring his face as he drove. He glanced over, offered you a small smile and held your hand.

Maybe drunk Lando wasn’t totally useless. Also, safe to say Nicole was happy when you told her (the next week of course, nothing was going to upstage Hattie’s day), since she literally screamed and cried.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

fic-tober masterlist

taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi @linnygirl09 @lanadelray1989 @teamnovalak @gleeblegnarp

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twilightkitkat · 3 months ago

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Thinking about how Logan is more open about his emotions than Wade despite what people perceive, and how Wade slowly learns to open up and confront his own emotions because of Logan.

Prompted by this amazing thread. Shoutout to @ramblingautisticman and @desperatelyneedcoffee for inspiring me to write this.

---

Most people expect Logan to be the more closed-off one. To hide his emotions behind a mask and keep them to himself.

But that's Wade's role.

Logan is honest about his emotions—when he's angry, he'll growl and thrash and let people know. When he's happy, he'll bark out a laugh and grin and let his eyes wrinkle at the edges. When he's sad, he'll cry and scream and drown himself in alcohol.

He may not be phased by smaller things, but he's honest about his feelings. (Something Wade could never do.)

Wade, on the other hand, isn't. He exaggerates trivial feelings, obvious situational ones—he'll cower in fear at a "scary enemy or pretend to be pissed over a minor inconvenience. He makes his outward, shallow emotions so loud that it turns everyone's attention away from what he's feeling inside.

(Because if people know how he feels inside, they'll see him and hate him. It's easier to be hated when you can chalk it up to "understandable" reasons, to being annoying or loud or inappropriate. It isn't easy when they hate you. When they look at you, bare and vulnerable and open, and hate who you are at your core.)

Wade has spent his entire life hiding his emotions. Even from himself.

He shoves them so deep down that they become a slightly bitter taste in the back of his throat until it all becomes too much and he violently throws them up.

Wade is like a glass bottle: he can steadily hold all his emotions inside, pretending to be OK, until the glass shatters and explodes and the shards dig everywhere and he's left to pick up the pieces.

But Logan isn't like that. He lets himself feel. He lets others see how he feels.

Even from the first moment they met, he let Wade know how he felt. How he fucked everything up. How he wasn't the hero he was looking for. How he was battling with so much grief and rage that he'd reached a point of complete apathy.

(It made Wade envious. To be able to just say it and move on.)

Logan was the first person Wade met to be so blatantly honest. To wear his emotions on his sleeve and act on them and still be strong and keep fighting.

(...Could he still be considered strong, if he did the same?)

When Wade was vulnerable, it felt like he was choking—the words tumbling out without his permission and leaving a mess behind. Even with the people he loved, he couldn't ever bring himself to fully trust them even if he knew he should. Even if he wanted to. (Even if he tried to.)

(He still remembers sitting across the kitchen table from Vanessa. She held his hand tightly, as if she was afraid he would slip away. Was slipping away. She was urging him to let her in. To tell her why he hadn't been himself. To open up so they could share the burden.

But he just... couldn't. How do you tell someone who loves you, who you turned back time to save that nothing was helping? That no matter how hard he tried to focus on Vanessa and just live a "normal" life that it all felt wrong? That he felt an itch under his skin to do more more more and nothing was "more" enough.

That he felt like he was just wearing his skin. Like it wasn't his, not since Francis twisted him into a monster he didn't want to become. That he still remembered her look of surprise and the reluctant way she cradled his face when she first saw it.

It wasn't her fault. He knew that. It was an adjustment.

...But why didn't anyone understand? The gnawing loneliness, the self-hatred, the feeling of everything being nothing and too much all at once.

He hated himself.)

But Logan let his emotions course through his veins like second nature. Wade watched as emotions twisted across his face like it was a form of art.

And, for the first time, he felt comfortable opening up. He let the words spill from his mouth, except instead of feeling the trail of acid burning through his throat it felt like relief. He finally met someone who understood him, who had gone through the same suffering. He saw his loneliness reflected in Logan's eyes and finally, finally, felt he could reach out without dragging someone down. (They were both already at rock bottom, anyway. The only place to go from here was up.)

And so he told Logan about Vanessa. About the family he wanted to save. About how, yes, he vaguely cared about the world, but none of this was to save the world. (It was for just nine people.)

And Logan... didn't judge him. He saw understanding—a tired, but real kind—reflected in his eyes. He didn't make fun of him for his selfish motivations. Didn't snarl in disgust that he could never be a hero because of them. (He saw him and didn't recoil.)

And there, sitting across the table from each other in that shitty building they'd escaped to, Wade finally felt seen. Understood. (Ironic, isn't it? To have to go to the void to open up about the void inside of himself. Wade would write a poem about it if he knew how to.)

He felt that same kinship as they continued their journey. Even through the insults, the exasperation, the annoyance, Wade could tell none of it was serious. Because Logan never really told him to fuck off. To stop.

If Logan didn't like him being touchy, he'd shove him off. (He didn't.) If Logan didn't like him asking questions and rambling about himself, he'd actually try to get him to shut up instead of just grumbling. (He didn't.) If Logan really didn't want to be here, he'd leave. (He didn't.)

Logan's visceral type of emotional honesty allowed Wade to let himself be vulnerable. Because if Logan hated him, he wouldn't be here. If Logan didn't want to hear it, he wouldn't tilt his head and listen and ask questions.

(It made Wade feel safe to express himself for the first time since he'd been strapped to that shitty operation table and torn apart until all that remained was a body not quite his own.)

Things were going good.

They were.

(Wade desperately hoped they'd stay that way.)

But then Logan pulled over the car, real and raw fury in his eyes. He yelled at Wade, his voice trembling with the intensity of it.

He picked apart everything Wade had told him. Threw it back in his face.

And oh. Oh.

Logan was honest. He was true to himself and his emotions.

And so, Wade thought quietly as the tired continued, he really meant it. It felt worse than when Logan had stabbed him.

(It felt like he was back on that operating table, small and weak and pathetic but still trying to keep smiling. To keep cracking jokes and being annoyed. Because, if he didn't, he'd break. If he didn't keep the shards of his personality clutched so tightly to his chest that they dug into his hands, nothing would be left of him.)

Logan dissected him. Using everything Wade told him. (Using the ammunition he'd provided.)

(Was Logan really looking at him with understanding, back then? Or was it disgust? The images blurred together in Wade's mind, distorting his memory.)

Told him how he was worthless. That the Avengers and X-men were right to reject him. (Ouch.) That it was his fault he couldn't salvage his relationship with Vanessa. (He'd tried. He'd tried so hard.)

That Logan saw him for what he was: a pathetic, attention-seeking parasite who clung to others instead of facing his own problems.

It really was God's greatest joke that he couldn't die.

Wade spiraled.

(Was he wrong this whole time? Did Logan really, truly hate him? He had to, if he's looking at Wade like that.)

If even Logan (the only person who could begin to understand his suffering) couldn't accept him, who could?

He felt like the ground was crumbling underneath him and he was falling and floating at the same time. He felt like he was an observer, looking in on the outside, even as his emotions crashed over him like a tsunami.

But he couldn't let himself break down. Wouldn't let himself be vulnerable. Not here. Not now.

So, he slid the mask back on and responded in the only way he knew how to.

"I'm going to fight you now."

(Even when they'd collapsed, bloody and weak and exhausted, the words kept ringing in his head. They'd let out their physical frustrations, maybe, but the words still clung to him like a blanket. There was still a sinking feeling in his gut. Dread twisting his stomach at the thought of being open.)

(The feeling never really went away.)

---

They started living together, in the aftermath.

Wade had called after Logan as he was about to leave and awkwardly asked him if he'd like to come home with him. Just long enough to find a place to stay, or even just for dinner.

(Logan couldn't refuse. Not with the sense of wrongness filling him as the distance between him and Wade grew with each step. When he heard Wade's voice, it felt like hope. It felt like coming home.)

One night turned into two, turned into a week, turned into a month until Logan had his own side of the dresser and nobody bothered to ask if he was leaving. (Thinking of leaving made Logan vaguely nauseous, now. It felt like ripping away the foundation of the home he'd painstakingly started to build here.)

Logan still had baggage. Still had days where all he wanted to do was grab a beer and stare blankly at the wall, thinking of all he'd done and all he'd lost.

But it was easier. Wade would walk into the living room, plop down next to him, and begin talking his ear off about whatever happened that day. He'd sling an arm around his shoulder, flip on the TV, and keep talking.

(Logan would lean against him, slightly. Would focus on Wade until his warmth and touch and voice drowned out his thoughts.)

(It worked better than alcohol ever had.)

Logan tried to let Wade know that he cared about him. That he appreciated it. Appreciated him.

(That Wade's presence was what made everything worth it. Made him finally feel like he was able to tread water without drowning.)

He'd cook Wade meals. (And pay attention to what he liked and disliked, making sure to cook things he knew Wade would comfortably eat.) He'd lean into his touch. Listen when he talked. Answer any questions he asked.

And so, when Logan came out from the shower one night and saw Wade curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the black screen of the TV, he approached him.

Wade had a vacant, empty look in his eyes. The kind that Logan recognized, but hadn't seen on him before.

It made him worried. He'd never seen Wade like this. (It was unsettling. To see Wade, who was so vibrant and expressive, look so bleak.)

"Is something bothering you, bub?" he asked, settling down next to Wade on the couch.

Wade finally seemed to register his presence, eyes flicking over to where he sat.

"Oh, peanut! I was wondering when you'd get out of the shower. Was it nice and steamy? I'd love to join you next time," Wade wriggled his eyebrows (or what was left of them) suggestively.

It was like a switch had flipped. Wade went from blank, like a doll with its strings cut, to animated and excited in a second. His eyes were sparkling again and he grinned at Logan like nothing was wrong.

(It was... uncomfortable. Did Wade not trust him? Was Wade hiding something from him?)

Logan wanted to question him, but Wade kept chattering and he could never really get a word in edgewise. (A part of him wondered if it was intentional.)

Maybe he was seeing things. Maybe Wade was just having a bad day. Logan tried to rationalize it, even as a pit formed in his stomach. A feeling of deep wrongness.

Except it kept happening.

Wade would get that same, desolate look in his eyes (always when he was alone, away from everyone) and Logan would walk in on him. Logan would try to see if something was wrong, but Wade would interject before he could.

(Logan knew his expression was concerned. Knew Wade could tell he was worried, that he cared about him. So why didn't Wade let him in?)

(Wade always listened, patiently, when Logan talked about his problems. It was one of the few times he'd go quiet, only occasionally asking questions and making extra commentary. He'd look at him with a grim understanding. Not pity, not sympathy, but empathy. Free of judgment. It was the first time Logan felt like his emotions were actually being received by someone, cradled and held and protected so that they didn't burn him out.)

Until, finally, one day, Logan snapped.

"What the fuck is up with you?" he snarled, and that didn't come out the way he intended but he was so frustrated by Wade refusing to just let him in.

"What do you mean, Wolvie? I'm—"

"Shut up. You're not fine. I've been alive for two hundred fucking years, I know by now when someone's lying, Wade," Logan interrupted before he could continue his usual antics.

"Look, I'm just having a bad day, alright? You know how it is. I'll be up and running after I take a nap, don't worry about little old me!" Wade's voice took on a faux-cheerful tone.

"This isn't just a bad day, bub. It's been happening a lot. You get this look in your eye, like you're not really there, and just stare at the wall." Logan stared at Wade with concern evident on his face. "It's worrying."

Wade snorts. "You don't have to worry about me of all people."

Logan furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean? 'You of all people?' Of course, I'd be worried about you, dumbass. I care about you and if you're hurting, I want to know why."

And Logan was so painfully honest. It was so clear in his eyes, in his expression, in his body language that he cared about Wade. Deeply.

It made Wade snap.

"Just shut up! Stop fucking talking. I don't want to hear it." Wade wished he had hair right now so he could fucking tear it out. He'd take any kind of physical pain just to distract himself from Logan, worried and open and trying to pry him open.

"Wade, what are you—you know you can tell him about anything, right?" Logan tried to regulate his breathing, to keep his tone calm. To not show the panic he was feeling. (It was obvious anyway.)

"What, so you can throw that back at me, too?"

What? What was Wade—

"So you can tell me I'm a fucking joke? That every superhero team was right to turn me down? That I couldn't even manage to keep a relationship with a stripper?"

Oh. Oh fuck. That was—

"That I should just fucking kill myself, but of course, it's God's best joke that I can't die, so now my pathetic existence is on you?"

He couldn't possibly think Logan meant that, right? Couldn't have been thinking about that this whole time—

"I don't want to burden your royal highness with my stupid problems," Wade practically snarled, "so stay the fuck out of it."

He slammed the door and left.

And Logan was left alone.

Logan wanted to run after him, to grab him and tell him that he didn't mean it. He was pissed off and spewing whatever came to his mind in the moment to hurt Wade. (And he'd achieved that goal, hadn't he?) He felt betrayed and responded in the only way he knew—by lashing out. (But that wasn't an excuse, not really. Not to take everything Wade had trusted him with and twist it. To betray his trust in such a personal, visceral way.)

(Logan knew that Wade meant well. That he was just scrambling to save his world and thought of the only solution that would get Logan to help. That when he made an "educated wish" he'd still try to see it out, had still asked the TVA after everything. But he was so fucking angry and so fucking tired and just wanted any excuse to lay down and die.)

Did Logan really have the right to, though?

Wade had listened to him. Helped him. Even after what Logan had said and done, he'd still cared. (And wasn't that a sobering thought. That this whole time, Wade thought that was Logan's opinion of him. That he still cared about Logan despite having his voice ringing in his ears, tormenting him.)

(It made Logan angry to think that Wade was used to it. To setting aside how people treated him and not expecting anything in return for his kindness. To loving and giving without receiving. It made him want to murder the people who set the bar so low. It made him want to rip out his own tongue.)

(It made him realize, yet again, that Wade was a better man than he'd ever be.)

...And Logan had fucked up. Immensely.

Had given Wade hope that he could finally open up to someone who came from a similar background and understood his suffering. All to tear it away in one glorious, horrible, mistake.

Logan had no right to fix things. To ask for forgiveness. (From Wade. From anyone.)

But what was the alternative? Letting Wade think he hated him? Leaving?

Logan would rather die than go back to living completely isolated from the world. He couldn't go back to waking up every day and drowning his sorrows with alcohol. Letting memories flash behind his eyes as he replayed everything he fucked up and obsessed over what he could've done differently.

(Because, without Wade, he would still be there. At rock bottom. Without a place to belong or any reason to get up in the morning. A samurai without a master. A drifter without purpose. A stray without a home.)

The thought of leaving behind the only thing he cared about anymore made him panic. He felt nauseous, like he wanted to throw up yesterday's dinner and his own heart alongside it.

He knew it was selfish and pathetic, but he couldn't let go. Couldn't handle losing the only thing that made living worth it, after everything.

(Of course, when he finally found someone who was like him, who felt the same loneliness, who couldn't die, he had to go and fuck up. What is Logan good for if not ruining anything good in his life?)

Logan knew he was selfish. And pathetic. And stupid.

(He felt his mouth move around the words. Spit venom at Wade, who was completely, utterly silent. He heard them, vaguely, but they didn't register. He was running on pure rage and adrenaline.)

(Why did he take until now to notice?)

He knew that.

But he didn't think it was this bad. That he'd end up ruining the only good thing to come out of his miserable existence.

He thought, at least, that even if he'd fucked up everything else, he could be good with Wade. Could be good for Wade. It was the one thing he prided himself on.

And now look at him.

Instead of Wade, it's Logan who was God's best joke.

Fuck, he wanted a beer.

#deadclaws #deadpool 3 #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool movie #poolverine #kitkat #logan howlett #wade wilson #wade x logan #wade/logan #poolverine angst #LMAOOOO I HOPE YALL ENJOY #MAYBE ILL BE NICE AND MAKE A SEQUEL WHERE THEY TALK IT OUT #RIP POOLVERINE 2024 YOU WILL BE MISSED

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yandere-wishes · 4 months ago

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⋆𐙚⋆ Imagine being Darth Vader/ Anakin's presious little darling. You're the only thing that keeps him living, keeps him from tearing his chest open and clawing out his black dysfunctional heart. You're the only good thing in his life.

⋆𐙚⋆ That's why he keeps you locked up on Mustafar, in a dark, somber castle surrounded by lava. It's how he can insure your safety. Make sure you're always waiting for him alone and scared. It's easy to believe that your sweet smile is because of him, much easier than believing you're despreatly starved for company.

⋆𐙚⋆ Anakin's fairytale ends when Obi Wan learns of your existence. Learns that Anakin has taken an unwilling bride and locked her away on a planet of eternal night. Old habits die hard, and despite all his failures, Obi Wan is still a Jedi. He knows he has to rescue you.

⋆𐙚⋆ Imagine running through Mustafar. Fingers laced with a Jedi master who smells of sweet desert fruits and dying suns. Running through forests and jumping over lava streams. You can hear Anakin behind you. His rage ripples through the air, thick and menacing. You smell the burn of bark as his saber slashes through the trees. His screams of rage burn your ears. But you see the starship. You taste freedom in the back of your mouth. You're so so close.

⋆𐙚⋆ You only let go of Obi Wan's hand when you're inside the starship, and the hatch is sealed shut behind you. Only let out a breath when the engine roars and the ship lifts into the air. Obi Wan sits at the pilot seat, rotten nostalgia coursing through his veins. He offers you his smiles his golden smile, trying to reassure you that you're finally finally safe. And you believe him...at least for a moment.

⋆𐙚⋆ The starship rattles, shaking you and him from your seats. The engines scream the metal frame creaks and bends. You dare a glance outside a shattering window only to see him. Vader's arm is raised, fingers stretching, power radiates through him, pulling the thousend ton ship from the air. It's funny to think that one man holds so much power. You cower on the floor knees to your chest. Doe eyes overflowing with tears, you knew freedom was too good to be true. Obi Wan tries to wrangle the ship from Vader, but there is no hope left...

⋆𐙚⋆ All too soon, the ship crashes back onto igneous land. The metalic doors and walls are peeled off harshly as Vader uses the force to rummage through the wreckage. Your bruised and battered body is pulled towards him. His furious grasp snakes around your neck. "YOU LEFT ME, YOU ABANDONED ME." it's hard to miss the sprinkles of pain upon the rage-filled timber of his voice. "Ani, I'm sor-" you try to choke out, despreat for a mercy you know will not be granted. "LIAR".

⋆𐙚⋆ He doesn't kill you. He can't. He may be rage born and hatred raised. But you... you are truly something special, something that deserves punishment, not death. Anakin drags you back to his fortress. Leaving Obi Wan bleeding amongst the wreckage...

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solbaby7 · 11 months ago

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Make You Mine

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: swearing, sexual tension, toxic relationships, possessive themes, violence, ( just a fuck ton of bad decisions babe, i can’t help it, live for a feral Az )

summary:

[ part one ]

—

Sometime after dinner, once the adrenaline and underlying excitement had quelled; you’d decided to keep Damien around. While proving to be generally horrible, he also perfectly filled the place of a pawn.

A pawn in a game that only you knew you were playing.

One that pushed the line of entirely too far when you showed up at training the following day with hickeys lining the length of your neck—the same place Azriel’s lips had pressed their kisses into at dinner. The same lips you’d pictured when Damien was putting them there, hands groping at your ass as he eased the hem of your black dress over your hips.

Azriel notices you the same time you spot Nesta, striding past the shadowsinger without a hint of acknowledgement but you could feel his eyes glued to the fit of your leathers. “I thought it wasn’t your place to be out here playing with swords?” Nesta drawls out, almost bored as her opponent shuffled out of the ring nursing a bruised jaw.

“If that’s the case, then show me where I belong, Lady Death.” You peer up at her and the five finger grip on her hip, practice sword held loose in her free hand.“Unless, you can’t?”

“I’m surprised you still have enough energy to bother,” Nesta gestures to her own neck and you subconsciously tug your shirt higher. “Long night?”

A slow grin grows at the corner of your mouth, hands bracing your weight to hoist yourself into the ring and briefly you all but preen when you feel the shadowsingers rage permeating the air. Toying with Azriel’s poor restraint never ended well but surely he wouldn’t actually kill anyone. Pride overwhelms common sense and you can feel the chill of his shadows slinking around the edges of the ring as if summoned; watching, listening. “Early morning.” Nesta’s grip tightens on the hilt of her practice sword with full intent of taking you up on your offer but when her lips part no words form.

Instead, she makes a noise, not quite a scoff but not exactly a hum either. “So, there is something decent about the company you keep after all.” You don’t take it offensively and you’re certain Nesta’s readying herself for more but it never comes. A brow raises, head tilting to the side but the silence makes sense when the towering figure behind you blocks the warm sun from bare shoulders.

“Actually,” The husky tone tickles the shell of your ear. “—you’ll be sparring with me today.”

“I’d rather not.”

Azriel’s hand curls around your arm, holding firm but not hard enough that you can’t break free if you tried—if you wanted to. You refuse his gaze, focusing on anything but him and his centuries of trained muscles stuffed beneath the fabric of his fighting leathers. He’d ditched the jacket, tunic too, both tossed in a heap near Cassian. Left in nothing but the sleeveless undershirt that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination; broadcasting the sharp lines of his neck and the soft curls of inky tattoos that resided there. “You don’t get to make the decisions here anymore,” His free hand raises to cup your jaw, tilting your head to the side and he can’t fight his body’s natural reaction to snarl at the very thought of another man’s mouth on your skin. “Not when you keep proving that you make such poor choices.”

You jerk away from his grasp, twisting out of the grip on your arm and a foot smacks at the back of his knees. Finally looking at him—looking down at him, Azriel sees the fire in your eye; the hatred and anger. The betrayal at his hands and the person you had to become because of it. “You have no right to judge my choices.” It’s barely a whisper, concealing as much as you could with so many eyes watching—so many ears listening. “You mean nothing to me.”

“We both know that isn’t true.” Curse your body for reacting to his touch; warm hands sliding up to cup at your waist. The smell of him sinking into your nostrils and seducing every nerve like a walking aphrodisiac.

“I think I have feelings for Elain.”

The reminder snaps you back to reality, hand reaching out to smack him clear across his face. His eyes lower to slits, right cheek going red but you’re too pissed to even register the stinging pain in your palm. “Fine,” Azriel says too casually, jaw ticking with barely there restraint. “We can play this your way.”

It’s gone quiet save for the two of you, the others pausing their fighting to see the scene unfold, waiting to witness the spymaster make an example of you. Certainly, they must’ve forgotten that you’d been doing this since you were old enough to wield a sword; fighting males bigger than Azriel.

Fuck feelings when you had a point to prove.

“I’m not here to play with you, Az. I just want to fight.” It was a cheap shot; using the stupid little nickname to your advantage but his body always reacted so obediently to his name on your tongue. He’d just barely gotten back to his feet before you strike at him, throwing a quick succession of jabs his way in a style that he didn’t teach you.

Maybe all of those weeks away traveling the other courts after his confession had left marks that he hadn’t learned yet.

Something about you that Azriel didn’t know.

The very thought leaves him distracted a second longer than he’d have ever allowed if it was anyone else. He’s quick to recover, blocking and dodging, throwing hits of his own but eventually you grow tired of the refrained punches—the obviously subdued responses to your rage and it only adds more fuel to the fire. “If you aren’t even going to try and be a challenge then just yield so I can spar with Nesta like I planned.”

He hadn’t reached for his sword once, not a single finger twitched to grip at the daggers holstered at his hips and sure, hand-to-hand was fine but with Azriel it felt too close; too intimate. “Is that what you want?” He takes a step closer and immediately your face turns away from him, refusing to acknowledge him or that low tone he took with you and only you. “A challenge?”

“I don’t want anything from you.” Except to have been the first choice. One that he was sure in. Not second guessing if every special moment had only felt like that for you. “Not anymore.” The thought alone has your skin flushing with embarrassment, completely turning around to hide but Azriel just shifts to accommodate.

“You don’t mean that.” There’s worry etched in his brow, skewing the whole canvas of his face and it was like your soul wanted nothing more than to appease him. Battering and clawing at your bones, scrambling for the freedom soothe every line and give him everything he’d ever dreamed of and more.

“I want to.” Azriel watches the stone wall you put up, rounding up all that love and adoration, cradling at the sobbing affection that no longer had a place to call home. It takes everything in you to leave it all, to ignore the desire to toss aside better judgement and fall into the need. The softness in your eyes dies with the squaring of your shoulders as you retake your stance, regarding him as nothing more than one of the recruits. “Fight me or leave the ring—I don’t exactly have all day.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to leave. Forfeit and grant you a worthy opportunity but that is not the case.

You should’ve known better.

Azriel’s determination was a force to be reckoned with, skilled swipes of his sword followed by combat moves he only saved for the battlefield. A particularly rough strike is blocked but it still makes you stumble. “Is this challenge enough for you?” Azriel demands, swords interlocked, faces so close you could smell the minty scent of toothpaste on his breath. Golden eyes are piercing under the suns rays, barely concealing how impressed he truly was with the way you’d kept up. Swift and limber, light on your feet and efficient in every step taken but there’s a certain chaos to your moves—something fresh and unpredictable. “This right here,” The fight, the passion, the frantic thrum of your blood rushing in your ears from the pure adrenaline that erupted at the sight of him. “—is why we will never be over.” He’s not even breaking a sweat, syllables breaching perfectly kissable lips while looking like he belonged on a throne in the deepest chasms of Hel. “I know he doesn’t make you feel like this—not like I do.”

“Stop.” It takes more effort now; balancing keeping up that stone wall and maintaining your composure under his attacks. A deep breath to settle your thoughts and you completely drop your sword, effortlessly switching to something more hands on.

“Don’t you see that I can’t?” The restraint in his voice slips, a vein bulging in his neck and your fingers scream for you to reach out and trace it. “Not until you see that he will never be able to do for you what I can.” Azriel’s shadows swirl around your arms, clamping them close to your body as he pulls you into him—his chest on your back and those hands attempting to disarm you. Your breath hitches when you feel the trace of warm skin down the length of your holsters and the weapons fastened to them. A barely there that sends your body in a pure frenzy; one that demands all things Azriel until the end of time. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what it felt like—you and me.” The stiff length of his cock pressed into the curve of your spine and it takes everything in you not to actually moan. “Just say the words and I’ll remind you. Right here in front of everyone if that’s what you wish.”

Do it. Your thoughts shout. Do it. You know you want to.

“I think I have feelings for Elain.”

Sharp jabs of your elbow to his abdomen. A hand that clamps down around the thick bulk of his arm and all that manly strength is used against him when he’s flipped right over your shoulder. Legs straddle at his waist, one blade shoved at his throat while the other pressed gently at his chest. “No, he doesn’t make me feel how you do.” You confess, breathless and your shoulders slump ever so slightly. “But, at least with him, I know I was his first choice. At least with him,” Your words shake and Azriel can’t handle the way you have to force the composure. “—I never have to worry about being second best.” The swords clatter to the ground, not bothering to retrieve them as you get back to your feet.

You’re nearly at the edge of the ring when he calls out, still on the ground and propped up on his elbows. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

“Neither do you, Az.”

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar #azriel #acotar azriel #azriel x you #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #acotar fics #acotar series #acotar angst #acotar fic

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diorctrl · 1 year ago

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hi hi !! if you’re taking requests, can you do enhypen x idol!reader where the reader is a host on music bank? thank you :D

MUSIC BANK HOST : idol!enha x idol! reader

𓂂 ˳ enhypen hyung line genre: idol au, fluff, different scenarios warnings: intentional lower case, im gonna split this up into two so maknae line coming soon

lee heeseung ( 이희승 )

୨୧ 𓂂 ˳ you’re apart of (g)-idle, both enhypen and your group had a comeback around the same time so it was bound to happen that your groups would do a dual interview together on music bank. to say heeseung knew about you was an understatement… you were his ultimate idol crush and you knew about him because you found him attractive and liked his groups music, that was it he wasn’t even on your mind like you were on his.heeseung being the fanboy of you that he is couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you and chaemin did your introductions. he was so into you it was obvious to anyone with a pair of two eyes. he was so hypnotized by you that it seemed that he forgot the group that you were apart of the type of members you have.

“ah, yes.” yuqi starts she stood in the middle right beside heeseung who’s gaze was still on you, “I’m happy to once again spend an amazing comeback with my beautiful members, don’t you agree heeseung since you’re so captivated by my beautiful member who’s our mc.” yuqi turns to the boy smiling teasingly as everyone laughs and ohs at her comment towards heeseung who shakes his head in shock at the girl’s confidence to say such a thing. “oh! so you don’t find her beautiful?” yuqi says loudly at the boys head shakes the laughs becoming louder, heeseung opens his mouth to protest but is cut off by your voice, “you don’t find me beautiful?” you join in on the teasing, oh how he wanted to die. but hey, this embarrassing situation of his is how he ended up bumping into you in the hallways and gaining to courage to ask for your number and to clarify that he finds you very beautiful.

park jongseong ( 박종성 )

୨୧ 𓂂 ˳ you’re apart of lesserafim, you and jay hated each other. he didn’t know when it started but he’s pretty sure it was when both of you were trainees, you and him were always at each others necks and that hatred has been going strong from trainee days to the present with both you and him being members of super successful groups of your generation. it was definitely a shock to jay when chaemin asked him to fill in for him for music bank, he agreed of course but was still very shocked. what shocked him even more is instead of seeing eunchae wearing a matching outfit with him he saw you. isn’t it just such a coincidence that both music bank hosts wouldn’t be able to do the show? turns out eunchae was “sick” before you and him could go at each other it was already time to host and to say there was tension between the two of you was an understatement. every group and soloist that the both of you interviewed could feel it as well and your scripts made everything so much more entertaining.

“do I look handsome?” jay asked, reading off of his script he cringed slightly before showing off his outfit to you who covered your face with your cue card. “uh..” you responded as looked at your cue card that told you to agree and say that he does look handsome but instead you burst out in laughter. jay tried his hardest to stay in character but your laugh made it so hard, “are you ok-” he couldn’t get through his sentence before he’s cutting himself off with his own laughter, it’s funny that this situation is what broke the tension and got the two of you to be comfortable with each other the rest of the show.

sim jaeyun ( 심재윤 )

୨୧ 𓂂 ˳ you’re a famous actress, that was known for your role on the glory as young yeonjin. you were definitely a beauty but you played your role so well that it had some people either hate you or utterly terrified of you. jake was one of the people that were utterly terrified of you, in his mind there was no way you were that good of actor to play that role so well. so when jake found out that you were one of the new music bank hosts, he had to mentally prepare himself to face you, the boys told him that he was being ridicules but jake was sure that you were a demon spawn so with that being said jake was shook when he had to stand so close to said demon spawn. seeing you up close was even worse especially since you were so pretty, it’s always the pretty ones is all jake could say to himself. the whole interview he wasn’t buying this bubbly personality that you had going on there was you had to be just putting this on for the cameras, that was until you bumped into him in the halls.

“oh my gosh!” you exclaim at him, smiling brightly as jake looks at you confused, “I was looking for you.” you say walking closer to him. “looking for me?” he asks, “yeah, I love your group and you’re my bias, I was wondering if you could sign my photo card?” jake looks at you in shock for a while, are you really this bubbly and not a demon spawn?, “uh yeah sure.” he hesitantly smiles taking the pink pen and the photo card of him from your hand and signs the back, you smile brightly at him as he gives it back to you, “thank you so much!” you say before heading towards the other direction. jake stares at your retreating figure his mind going a thousand miles, a a pretty bubbly and obviously talented actress who’s obviously into him and he’s gonna let this pass up because he thought you were a demon spawn? no way before he can even process it jake is calling you name and speeding to catch up with you.

park sunghoon ( 박성훈 )

୨୧ 𓂂 ˳ you’re apart of aespa, both you and Sunghoon were known for your icy visuals and you guys were probably the most shipped idols at the moment. everyone thought that you guys would go so well together, little did they know that their ship were already dating. sunghoon was your down bad boyfriend that was your biggest supporter and he always made sure to support you with music bank and he was excited that he would finally get to see the best host that he’s ever seen interview him and his group (he only calls you the best host because you’re his girlfriend.) what he didn’t expect was for chaemin and yours script to be so flirty even when you’re interviewing groups. all he could do when you and chaemin were interviewing him and his group was think who the heck wrote the script and when he can have a talk with them.

sunghoon sulked as he laid on the couch in your dressing room, he watched has you packed up your bag before letting out an annoyed sigh, “what is your problem?” you ask turning towards him but all he responds with is another exaggerated sigh. “what happened to you?” you laugh as you walk over to the boy standing in between his legs as he buries his head on your stomach, “since when did your scripts get so flirty?” he asks but his voice is muffled, “what?” you ask, cupping his face and tilting it up to face you, “since when did your scripts get so flirty?” he repeats playfulness glaring up at you. “they’re not flirty.” you laugh, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, “yes they are, they were never like this when I was a mc.” he whines glaring off to the side. all you could do is laugh at his dramatics, “I only have eyes for you.” you say pressing another kiss to his forehead, “you better.” he says, “I also need to get in contact with your script writer.”

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons #heeseung #jay #Jake #sunghoon #heeseung x reader #jay x reader #jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #idol!yn #enhypen x idol reader

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ladybirdswritings · 18 days ago

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HUNTRESS, FIC — emperor geta x reader.

DESCRIPTION: the blood of the emperor’s brother is on your hands, a betrayed huntress facing death in the colosseum. your every move watched by the vengeful emperor who loathes you as much as you despise him. but amidst blood, betrayal, and survival, hatred begins to twist into something dangerous. NOTES - little enemies to lovers fic !! leave me all your thoughts and opinions. i love them <33 | prev part ; next part

two;

“Let go of me!” Your growl came out as more of a cry as the barbaric, mindless men who served the emperors—no, emperor (thanks to you)—dragged you by your arms toward the throne room.

Your knees burned crimson, scraped against the cold, unforgiving floor.

You felt him before you saw him, your stomach plummeting to the floor.

Rage.

The scent of sugared pastries and rich wine made your mouth salivate in protest, your stomach curdling. You were so hungry, and yet, despite your victory, you were still locked away in a cage.

“Uumph—” The air was knocked from your lungs, your ribs burning as your face met the floor.

But they weren’t dragging you anymore.

Blood trickled from the corner of your lips, and you spat it out, clenching your jaw as you raised your head, brushing your hair from your face.

And there he was.

Legs spread, eyes bored, a woman on his lap, another at his feet. They licked at his skin lazily, suckling kisses to express their utter devotion. It made you sick.

You narrowed your gaze, and he did the same.

“Look at you, huntress.” The emperor hissed the word, and it took all your restraint not to lunge at him. The guards would surely stop you, but even a single drop of his blood would be enough to sate you.

He looked at you with unimpressed hazel eyes, nose wrinkling at the sight of your filthy skin. His finger gently traced the pale rouge on his lips, smudging it.

“Don’t. Call me that.” Your teeth were clenched, your voice a caged beast as his gaze dropped to the blood trickling from your lips.

He snapped his fingers, and a guard approached. You tried to shake your head away, but he was too strong, pinching your chin and roughly wiping the blood from your lips.

“Well, it’s what you are, isn’t it? A huntress? Sister of a gladiator—”

“One you slaughtered.”

Then came the worst sound: a laugh, cold and twisted, echoing through the gilded throne room. His mindless women mirrored him, and for a moment, you imagined a violent end for the puppets he played with on his throne.

“Slaughtered? It’s not at all my fault that your brother forgot how to survive in my coliseum.”

Rage scorched your bones, and you could no longer hold yourself back. You lunged with a growl, but the guards stopped you with a swift, iron kick to the ribs and neck. Eyes spinning round the throne room, you saw him raise a hand.

“Pin her there.” He commanded, and they obeyed—kneeling on either side of you to keep you caged, your struggles growing lazier as you wore yourself out.

Where could you run to?

Tears, hot and heavy, threatened to fall, but you held them in. Angered tears, yes—but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of thinking otherwise, even through your blurred gaze.

Your mind was still made up.

A brother for a brother. Despite his show of superiority, his twin was buried too deep for him to ever find peace. So, your death would offer nothing to him but dissatisfaction. Maybe he knew that.

Slowly, he approached, lips lifting into a smirk as he descended the marble steps and kneeled before you. So close to the man responsible for it all, yet so caged. You squinted, trying to hold back the tears, growling as you bucked against the guards like a rabid beast.

Geta tilted his head.

“Look at you. Fighting so hard to show me how strong you are, hmm?”

Your lips swelled with the effort of withholding emotion, your nose beginning to run. You tucked it away with a sniff, chin held high, jaw clenched. You wanted to plunge your own blade into your chest when a tear slipped free.

“Oh,” he murmured, his eyes following its path lazily. Then, with cruel slowness, he raised a finger, gently swiping the tear from your cheek. He wrapped his rouged lips around his finger, suckling away the damp trail of your emotion.

Your eyes widened, but you masked it with another defiant buck against the guards.

“That’s okay, my huntress. Let it out.” He taunted.

You growled through pressed teeth and swollen lips, and he grinned, a devilish slice of the moon upon his lips.

“I’m not your anything. You will never cage me. I’d sooner plunge my blade into my own throat.”

His amber brow shifted upward at that revelation, pondering your words for a moment. Then, without warning, he reached forward, plucking your golden, ornate blade from its hilt.

“This blade?”

You were wild now—trapped like a horse held back by reins, a snake in an iron cage. You writhed, desperate to free your prized possession from his grasp.

“Oh? Did your brother give you this? It would be awfully poetic if I killed you with it, hmm? If I—perhaps pressed it right there…” His finger brushed the blade’s edge against your neck. “Obedient now?”

Your bucking stopped the moment he flicked the blade free from its weathered case and pressed it against the delicate pulse of your throat.

He grew quiet, his eyes darkening a fraction, sending a shiver up your spine. His veined hand pulsed around the hilt, and he pressed his forehead to yours, his gaze pinning you more than the blade ever could.

“You took my brother from me, little huntress. And your death, though I’d revel in bathing in your blood—won’t satisfy my hunger quite enough…” He shivered the last words, and every curve of the throne room faded as he tilted his head against yours. You were paralyzed, weak—afraid—and you hated yourself for it.

“Hmm? So, I’ve opted to take other measures.”

You felt the scrape of the knife at your jugular, his eyes dark as they focused on the soft skin there. One push forward and your blood would stain his shiny floors, but it never came.

Blood trickled onto the blade’s tip, and he suckled it onto his tongue before throwing the knife aside, as if it were a worthless object.

Your breath shook as you glanced toward it. The guards held you back when you moved to retrieve it.

“Let her go.” He waved lazily, and the barbaric men hesitated before glancing nervously at you.

It was either a test or a gift from the gods. Test, most likely—but even so? You’d fail with pride, as long as his blood stained your hands, even if just a lick of it.

“Do as I say!” He growled, and immediately, you were free, your arms aching from where they had been bound. The awful, grand prints of their hold stained your skin.

Now, it was your turn to hesitate. Your knees ached, and you looked up at his wicked, cruel smirk, your knife now clutched in your trembling hand.

A moment passed.

Then another.

Fuck it.

You lunged. He must have raised another commanding hand, for the guards didn’t stop you this time.

In a swift motion, you grasped your blade and began to climb the precious marble steps toward the traitorous throne.

For the people of Rome.

What utter horseshit.

For the power of Rome seemed more fitting. It was the last thought you had as you lifted your blade with a guttural cry. He wasn’t a gladiator, but he seemed bored as you neared—his guards drawing their bows in haste.

Close, so close. One step further and your blade would pierce that alabaster throat. He’d gurgle on his own crimson, and you’d grin as the arrows pierced your heart. Sated.

He stopped you with a movement so quick and smooth it made your head spin. He towered over you, gripping your wrist with such force that pain shot through your arm, and the blade slipped from your grasp.

His free arm wrapped around your waist, and you bucked against him like a caged bird, but he was unfazed, letting you tire yourself out. As your struggles grew weaker, he tightened his grip, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“You’re making a scene, huntress.” His voice was low, steady, as he held you close.

“Let me go—” You gasped as his ringed hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing so tight you dropped to your knees before him, looking every bit as obedient as his other mindless subjects.

He leaned over you, a sadistic shadow falling over your face, blocking out the sun—your freedom.

He spoke through clenched teeth, his eyes wild, and it was the first time his resolve slipped.

“You’re making a scene, and you killed my brother.” His face was red as a ruby, spit falling from his mouth as he hunched over you, hand still wrapped tightly around your throat.

“You and I both know you don’t wish to die. Look at you—look at you when I tighten my grasp around your neck.” You gasped as the pressure increased, burning heat tearing through your throat. Tears of struggle blurred your vision as you kicked in protest, proving him very much right against your own will.

“Yes, you’re afraid. And you’re lucky. Because death would be too kind a consequence.” The pressure lessened, just enough for you to breathe, but then he squeezed again. Would this be your end, strangled by the same hands that showed no mercy for Pietro?

“Breathe, pet. I intend to keep you alive a while longer, for my entertainment—and for the entertainment of Rome. They love you, little huntress. A weak, pathetic thing fighting to avenge her dead brother. So much so that you killed—an emperor."

The haze of panic descended, your mind blanketing over with a numb, chilling sense of finality. His grip tightened as if savoring your suffering.

"You will starve, and you will thirst. You will ache a pain so great, you will beg for death. But it will not come. Not until your flesh and bones cannot withstand the cruelty my gladiators will inflict upon you in my colosseum.”

A pinch settled between your brows as his words sunk in, and with each cruel syllable, anger bloomed like fire on your skin. Your body heated, and in a moment too quick to grasp, you gathered spit in your mouth and mirrored his earlier actions-spitting in his nasty face.

He winced, stopping the guards as they moved to pin you again. You cried out like a wounded animal as he threw you with force to the floor by your pretty and purpled neck, wiping your spit from his powdered face.

"Take her away." He growled, frustration spilling from his every pore as he towered over you.

Though the guards dragged you away, fury clutched your mind and fear gripped your heart.

The distance between you and him did nothing to wash away the dread that clung to you, suffocating.

Emperor Geta would be your end.

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enhasntty · 10 days ago

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Sunshine And Scowls - YJW

pairing: yang jungwon x f!reader summary: A grumpy university student reluctantly bonds with her cheerful classmate, Jungwon, after he persistently tries to get close. From a group project, to a surprise party. As the two of you become closer, you slowly realize that despite your differences, you might just like him more than you'd care to admit. warnings: Reader calls jungwon a "pain in the ass", they kiss, reader is kind of rude to jungwon and make a lot of sarcastic comments, reader gets jealous, lmk if I forgot anything else genre: Fluff, Grumpy x sunshine word count: 17042 note: I kind of gave up on this so it might seem repetitive but I still wanted to post something today. Please like and reblog and follow!! They are very much appreciated.

Jungwon wasn’t sure what had possessed him to walk out of the library and take a detour to the back of the campus. But there you were, leaning against a brick wall. Your expression was the kind of miserable that made everyone else around you feel guilty for breathing. It was like you were daring the universe to make your day worse, and he, a walking ray of sunshine, had decided to stroll right into it.

He paused a few feet away. You didn’t seem to notice him at first, and for a moment, Jungwon considered turning around. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to deal with someone who looked like they wanted to throw a punch at the next person who spoke.

But no. He was Jungwon. Smiley, always-trying-to-help Jungwon. He had to do something.

He cleared his throat, stepping closer. “Hey, uh, is this seat taken?”

You looked up at him, eyes narrowing slightly, as if he were some kind of stray dog daring to approach. He wasn’t fazed; he had a smile for this kind of situation. He flashed it at you-big, bright, with his dimples poking out just a little, because he knew it was hard to resist.

You didn’t even flinch.

“Seriously, you're gonna try and talk to me now?”

Jungwon blinked. Was that… was that a challenge? He’d been hit with a lot of things before, but that tone? That was next level.

“Uh, yeah?” he said, trying to keep his cool. “I mean, it’s a free country, right?”

“Clearly.” “But I’m not sure ‘freedom’ includes being your therapist.”

He could’ve sworn he saw the ghost of a smile at the corner of your lips, but it was gone so fast he couldn’t be sure. Still, that didn’t stop him from being hopeful.

“Not a therapist,” Jungwon said, his grin widening. “Just a guy looking to not die of boredom on his way back to class.”

You stared at him for a moment. “Right. Because your best idea for curing boredom is me?”

Jungwon let out a small laugh, totally unfazed. “Yeah, I mean, you look like you’ve got a lot going on. Might be fun to… I don’t know… complain about school or something.”

You let out a dry laugh, a mix of sarcasm and bitterness. “Oh, absolutely. Let me tell you about my deeply meaningful relationship with procrastination and the crushing weight of my student loans.”

He chuckled, unable to resist. “Sounds like a good start to me.”

“Trust me,” you said, deadpan, “the only thing I’m invested in right now is my hatred for group projects.”

“That’s… pretty relatable,” Jungwon admitted, looking like he wanted to sit down but wasn’t sure how to breach your fortress of apathy. “But, hey, I’m Jungwon. I’m in the business of-”

“Smiling like an idiot?” you interrupted, your voice flat. “Yeah, I gathered that.”

He was taken aback, but only for a second. He laughed again, the dimples on his cheeks deepening as he grinned. You made it too easy.

“Okay, okay,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I admit, I might smile too much. But it’s better than being, I don’t know, a walking storm cloud.” He leaned against the wall beside you, pretending to adjust his backpack. “You look like you could use a little sunshine in your life.”

You gave him the most unimpressed look. “If I wanted sunshine, I would’ve gone to a beach. This is… campus.”

He squinted at the sky for a moment. “I mean, it’s technically sunny… somewhere, right?”

You shook your head and sighed dramatically. “You’re really persistent. I’ll give you that.”

“And that’s why I'm so amazing,” he teased, his grin stretching wider, clearly enjoying this.

You shot him a look that could’ve melted steel, but Jungwon wasn’t fazed. “Keep dreaming, sunshine,” you muttered. “I’m just here to get through the day without punching anyone.”

“Fair enough,” he said, giving you an exaggerated, overly cheery wave. “Catch you later, then.”

You didn’t even look at him as he walked away, still grinning to himself. The conversation had been weirdly… refreshing. Even if you did look like you wanted to strangle him half the time.

You were absolutely not going to let it bother you.

But as Jungwon disappeared into the distance, you couldn’t help but wonder how long it would take before that annoying, relentless sunshine found its way back to you.

Mornings had never been your thing. In fact, mornings were the embodiment of everything wrong in the universe-especially when you were forced to attend early lectures that made you question why you even bothered getting out of bed in the first place. The clock buzzed way too early, your bed felt way too warm, and the thought of dragging yourself through another day was almost enough to make you reconsider dropping out and living off instant noodles in your dorm room.

But that wasn’t an option. Not yet, anyway.

You stumbled out of bed, your eyes still blurry from the late-night studying (scrolling through tiktok on your phone) and the lack of sleep that seemed to follow you everywhere like an unavoidable cloud of doom. After an agonizingly slow attempt at making yourself somewhat presentable for class, you were finally out the door-barely. The only thing keeping you upright was the steaming cup of coffee in your hand and the hope that the caffeine would somehow revive your spirit.

Of course, fate had other plans.

You turned the corner of the campus quad, your shoes making a slap on the pavement, when a certain pair of dimples appeared in your peripheral vision.

Jungwon. Of course.

He was standing near the entrance of the library, just outside, the sun glinting off his messy hair as he grinned like he had won some sort of award. It was as though he had just been waiting for the perfect moment to talk to you, despite the fact that you had given him zero encouragement to do so in the past week.

You didn’t even try to hide the groan that escaped your lips as you turned away, pretending you hadn’t seen him. Maybe if you ignored him, he would go away.

But no. Jungwon was the type of person who never gave up. Ever.

“Hey! Good morning!” His voice rang through the air, too loud and way too cheery for your liking. His smile was practically blinding, and you could feel the force of his positivity barreling toward you, despite your best efforts to stay hidden.

You pressed your lips together and kept walking, slow and steady, pretending like you didn’t hear him. Maybe if you moved at a pace that made him think you were on a mission, he’d stop following you.

But no. There he was again, stepping in front of you in the most ridiculous way possible, like a puppy that had just learned how to walk and needed constant attention.

“Wait up! Come on, it’s just me,” Jungwon said, his voice laced with that infuriating optimism you could practically feel radiating off him. “You look like you need company today.”

“I look like I need sleep,” you muttered under your breath, hoping he wouldn’t hear you. But knowing him, he probably would.

He did.

“Sleep sounds pretty great,” he agreed, nodding enthusiastically like a little kid who had just gotten a candy bar for breakfast. “But you know what else sounds amazing?”

You were already bracing yourself. You knew this would be some random, probably absurd statement that made absolutely no sense to you, but you had to listen anyway. “What?” you asked flatly, your voice as uninterested as you could make it.

“Coffee!” He beamed at you like he had just come up with the world’s most profound logical answer. “I bet you need some! Want me to get you one from that place near the main building?”

You gave him a side-eye that could’ve sliced through steel. “I have my coffee right here,” you said, holding the cup up just slightly, hoping to make it clear that you didn’t need him to save you.

“But your coffee isn’t from that place,” Jungwon pointed out, raising an eyebrow as though he had caught you in some big lie. “You’ve got the basic stuff. It’s not the good stuff.”

“It’s not ‘basic.’ It’s… functional,” you grumbled, taking another sip to emphasize your point.

He tilted his head, squinting like you had just confused him with your logic. “What’s wrong with basic? I think ‘basic’ coffee is pretty great, too.” He laughed, clearly enjoying himself. “I just… you know, thought you might want something special today. You look like you need something special.”

Your eyes narrowed as you studied his smiling face. “I’m fine, Jungwon. Seriously.”

It was like you had spoken in a foreign language. He simply shrugged and continued his relentless pursuit. “Okay, okay, but you know what else sounds good? A nice, big breakfast. We could grab something from the cafeteria! Pancakes. Eggs. Bacon.” He dragged out the last word with such fervor that you almost believed he was a personal spokesperson for bacon.

But you weren’t in the mood for breakfast food. Or anything really. You just needed to survive this lecture and go back to sleep. “I’m not hungry,” you said again, your tone a little sharper this time.

He didn’t seem to take the hint.

“Are you sure?” Jungwon asked, his eyes sparkling with that unwavering positivity. “I’ve heard that the cafeteria has the best bacon today! And the pancakes-they’re seriously huge. You could probably eat like… five or six.”

That was enough.

You stopped walking, turned to face him fully, and glared. Your patience had worn thin, and it seemed like the coffee hadn’t quite done its magic just yet. “You’re honestly insufferable,” you said, barely keeping your voice down. “What makes you think I want to talk to you right now? Do you enjoy making people uncomfortable on purpose?”

Jungwon blinked, a little taken aback by your sudden sharpness. But, as always, he recovered quickly. His dimples deepened as he gave you that smile again, this time not so much innocent but more like he was genuinely amused by your lack of enthusiasm.

“I mean, you look like you could use someone to talk to,” he said cheerfully. “I’m just trying to help out! I get that mornings aren’t your thing, but hey, you don’t have to go through the day alone.” He beamed, clearly proud of his attempt to be the “good guy” here.

You could feel your eye twitching. “What makes you think I need help? I don’t need anything from you, Jungwon,” you said dryly. “Except maybe a little distance. I mean, seriously, can you just let me go to class in peace? I don’t have the mental energy to fight through whatever this is.”

You pointed to him, your finger jabbing the air as though you were physically trying to push him out of your way. “You’re like a walking sunbeam, and it’s too much for me right now.”

Jungwon’s grin only widened at the jab. He took a half step back, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, I get it,” he said, still laughing under his breath. “But hey, I’m just trying to make your day a little brighter, y’know?”

“Yeah,” you deadpanned. “Well, maybe you should try dimming it down a bit. You’re like a human lightbulb.”

His eyes twinkled at your sarcasm, and for a moment, you almost felt like he was enjoying being the target of your frustration. “I’ll take that as a compliment. If I’m a lightbulb, then I’m the energy-efficient kind, right? So I’m not too much.”

You exhaled deeply, your patience having completely evaporated as you stared at the bright-eyed idiot in front of you. “I’m going to class, Jungwon,” you said, your voice flat. “And you’re not coming with me.”

“But why?” he asked, looking almost genuinely puzzled by the idea that you might not want him tagging along.

“Because,” you said, turning your back on him with a sigh of finality, “I’d rather face a thousand group projects than have to listen to your chipper morning commentary.”

You heard a burst of laughter behind you, followed by the sound of footsteps trailing after you. “Fair enough! But hey, maybe I can catch you after class?”

“No,” you snapped, turning just enough to shoot him a glare over your shoulder.

But as Jungwon continued to follow you-his grin still there, like a damn puppy who had just been fed-he made one thing painfully clear: there was no escaping his relentless, absurdly cheerful presence.

And, for the first time in your life, you almost wished there was.

You weren’t sure if it was the universe’s cruel joke or just Jungwon’s unyielding persistence that landed him next to you in class. But there he was, sitting down beside you like he had some sort of permanent claim to your space. It wasn’t even the first time he had done this-he had a habit of showing up wherever you were, like an overenthusiastic puppy that had somehow learned to operate on your schedule. It was like a cursed game of hide and seek, except there were no winners.

You didn’t even try to hide the way you glared at him as he settled in next to you. It wasn’t personal, well, maybe it was a little, but you were just so damn tired. The last thing you wanted in your already draining lecture was the relentless force of sunshine that was Jungwon. Couldn’t he pick someone else to grace with his presence for once?

“Good morning!” he said, his voice annoyingly cheerful as he dropped his bag next to his seat.

You didn’t respond, hoping your silence would be enough to communicate your feelings. It wasn’t.

“Man, you really look tired,” he said, his gaze flicking to your slouched posture. He had no filter, not that you were surprised. “I mean, it’s not even halfway through the lecture yet and you look like you’d rather be anywhere else.”

That was because you would rather be anywhere else. But instead of letting him see you crumble under the weight of another too-early class, you rolled your eyes and pulled your notes in front of you, trying your best to ignore him.

“Yeah, well, mornings are evil,” you muttered under your breath, more to yourself than to him.

Jungwon didn’t miss a beat. “Evil? That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” He smiled, wide and innocent, as though he had never seen a single evil thing in his life. You could almost hear the ‘naive sunshine’ soundtrack playing in the background.

You tilted your head slightly to the side, glaring at him. “Oh, I’m sorry, was that too much for your pure heart to handle?”

He chuckled, clearly unfazed by your sarcasm. “No, no, it’s just… I think I like your grumpiness. It’s… endearing.”

You snorted, making no attempt to hide your disbelief. “Endearing? Really? Are we in some weird romantic comedy, or did I just time travel to a parallel universe where sarcasm is considered cute?”

“Hey, I didn’t say it was adorable or anything,” he said, leaning a little closer as if sharing some deep, world-changing secret. “But I’m definitely entertained.”

“Great, I’m here for your amusement,” you shot back, your voice dripping with dry humor. “I’ll put that on my résumé.”

He didn’t even seem to register the sarcasm. Instead, he leaned back in his seat with that unrelenting, radiant smile. You could practically feel the warmth of his personality radiating in every direction. How was he this… constant?

You shook your head and tried to focus on the lecture, but of course, your mind kept drifting back to him. Jungwon, the human equivalent of a puppy, was sitting there beside you, his smile still wide, his eyes still sparkling, and the dimples on his cheeks were like little magnets, pulling your attention even when you tried to look away.

And it was annoying. God, it was so annoying.

“It’s your fault for being so cute,” he said suddenly, making your stomach lurch and your eyes narrow in irritation.

Your pen clattered loudly on the desk as you swiveled in your chair to face him. “Did you just call me cute? Are you for real right now?”

He nodded, completely unfazed. “I mean, you kind of are. Even when you’re all grumpy.”

You deadpanned, barely able to keep a straight face. “You have absolutely no idea what you’re saying, do you?”

“I know exactly what I’m saying.” His grin stretched impossibly wider, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes once more. You couldn’t help it. How was it possible for someone to be so irritatingly cheerful? You were so tired, and he was just… there-and his constant optimism was like a slap in the face.

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “You just don’t know how to take a compliment, do you?”

You crossed your arms, already feeling the familiar tension between you start to build. “You’re an absolute menace. I’m convinced that’s your only purpose in life-to annoy the hell out of me.”

“Well,” Jungwon said thoughtfully, glancing around the classroom, “if that’s true, then I’m definitely succeeding.” He looked back at you with that same, ever-present smile. “But you’re kind of fun to mess with.”

“Fun?” you asked, narrowing your eyes. “Are you kidding me? I’m the human equivalent of a bad mood, and you want to mess with me?”

He shrugged as though this wasn’t news to him. “Yeah, but that’s why it’s fun. You’re like… a grumpy cat.” He poked your shoulder lightly, making your body stiffen involuntarily.

“Do not call me a cat,” you growled under your breath. “I’m not cute. I’m not soft. I don’t even like cats.”

Jungwon’s face lit up like he had just won a prize. “See? There’s that fire! I love it.” He leaned back, clearly proud of himself. “I’m not giving up on you, you know.”

You stared at him, dead-eyed. “I wish you would.”

“Not gonna happen,” he said cheerfully, tapping his fingers rhythmically on his notebook. “I mean, you need me. You just don’t know it yet.”

“Yeah, because that’s exactly what I need-more of your… sunshine in my life,” you grumbled, sinking into your seat as though it could absorb all your frustration. You couldn’t even tell if you were genuinely annoyed anymore or if it was just a reflex at this point.

“I don’t know about you,” Jungwon said, suddenly serious, “but I think you’d be a lot less grumpy if you didn’t fight the sunshine so much. You need to take a step back and enjoy life a little more.”

The words hit you in a way that made you freeze. You didn’t expect him to say something like that. Not after all the teasing, the relentless optimism. But there it was-his absurdly sincere comment, like he’d been thinking about it all day.

You blinked, trying to cover up the sudden flutter of irritation mixed with something else. You weren’t sure what it was, but you weren’t about to admit that Jungwon had somehow managed to get under your skin in a way no one else had.

“Whatever, Jungwon,” you muttered, turning your attention back to the front of the class. “Just focus on whatever ridiculously happy thought you’re thinking right now.”

“Okay, okay,” he said with exaggerated seriousness. “But just know, I’m here for you. In case you ever need someone to drag you out of your grumpy little cave.”

“God, you are relentless,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

Jungwon chuckled under his breath, probably feeling like he had just won the world’s hardest battle. “If it makes you feel better, I think I might just be the only person who could handle your sarcasm.”

You turned to glare at him once more, but this time, there was something different in his expression. His smile wasn’t as bright or as teasing as before. It was softer, a little more sincere, though still laced with the kind of charm that made it impossible for you to stay mad at him for long.

And maybe that was the problem. Because even when you tried to hate him, it was hard to ignore the way your heart gave a little flutter when he smiled. Or the way you felt just a tiny bit lighter in his presence.

But you weren’t going to admit any of that. Not today. Not when the day was already too long and the lecture was only just beginning.

You didn’t know how it happened. One minute, you were minding your own business, trying to ignore the fact that you had an insane amount of work piling up for the week. The next, you were standing next to Jungwon, trying to suppress the overwhelming urge to knock your head against the desk in front of you.

“Guess we’re partners for the project,” Jungwon said, a grin spreading across his face like he had just won the lottery. “Isn’t that awesome?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, the tiny flutter of dread in your stomach slowly growing into full-blown anxiety. You could already feel your energy being drained just by his presence. You had been hoping for a solo project, but here you were-stuck with the human embodiment of a golden retriever on a caffeine high.

“Yeah,” you said flatly, “I’m absolutely thrilled.”

Jungwon chuckled, his eyes sparkling with that unrelenting positivity. “I knew you’d say that! You’re just so easy to predict, y’know?”

“Am I?” You crossed your arms and leaned back in your chair. “Well, let me guess, you’re going to make terrible jokes while I do all the work, right?”

“Hey!” He said with mock offense. “I’m a great partner. I can help lighten the mood, okay? I’m good at that. You’re just… stressed out. That’s all.” He gave you a small, encouraging smile that, for the thousandth time, didn’t quite help ease the anxiety you were feeling.

You deadpanned. “You’re a walking headache.”

His grin didn’t falter. In fact, it seemed to only widen, those dimples of his becoming deeper and more pronounced as he laughed. “Hey, I try to be funny, alright? I’m just here to make your day a little less boring.”

A deep sigh escaped your lips as you stared at your laptop screen, trying to force yourself to focus on the research in front of you. But Jungwon wouldn’t stop. Not even for a second.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye as he fiddled with his phone, clearly not doing anything remotely related to the project. He had that look-the one that said, “I’m here for moral support,” but you knew better. The last thing he was contributing to this project was anything remotely useful.

“You know,” Jungwon said after a brief pause, “I’ve always thought group projects would be better if there was a built-in joke timer. Like every five minutes, someone has to tell a joke or make everyone laugh.”

“Oh, yeah, great idea,” you muttered sarcastically. “Because the last thing we need right now is a comedy break while I’m drowning in work.”

“I mean,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “we could always take a break. A quick one. Just for a couple minutes. You know, to get our creative juices flowing.”

You stared at him blankly. “The only thing flowing right now is my blood pressure. And the only thing I need to do is finish this project before I implode.”

“You’re so dramatic,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s honestly kind of cute. Like, you’re mad, but you’re still, you know, adorable.”

“Adorable?” You glared at him, completely unimpressed. “Did you just call me adorable?”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant that you’ve got that… tough exterior, but it’s clear you’ve got a soft side somewhere. It’s just buried under all that sarcasm.”

“Jungwon,” you growled, your patience wearing thin, “I’m not ‘adorable,’ and I don’t have a ‘soft side.’ I’m just trying to survive this project with my sanity intact.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You really need to take a deep breath, okay? Maybe try a few stretches or something. I can show you some yoga moves. They really help relieve stress.”

The thought of Jungwon doing yoga with his annoyingly good-natured attitude sent a strange wave of disbelief through you. “Do you ever shut up?” you asked, staring at him with wide eyes. “You’re like a chatterbox on caffeine.”

His dimples deepened as he laughed again. “I just can’t help it. You’re too fun to mess with.”

You rubbed your temples, the headache beginning to form in earnest. “I think you’re the one who needs a time-out, not me.”

“Yeah, but time-outs are for people who aren’t fun,” he said, completely ignoring the sarcasm in your tone. “And I’m having way too much fun right now. It’s not my fault you’re a workaholic, you know. I mean, I’m just here trying to keep things light.”

Your gaze flicked back to your laptop, where you had barely managed to type a few lines of your report. The words were blurring together, and all you could hear was Jungwon’s relentless banter.

“You’re honestly a disaster,” you said, unable to hold back your frustration. “I could’ve done this project in half the time without you distracting me.”

“Aw, come on,” he said, flashing that infectious smile of his again. “It’s not that bad. We’re making memories! Think of it as character development. And besides, you’re definitely going to miss me when it’s over.”

“Yeah, no. I’ll be happy to never see you again after this project is done.”

Jungwon’s smile softened. He leaned closer, his voice taking on a more serious tone-well, as serious as Jungwon could get. “You know, you really don’t give yourself enough credit. I’m telling you, you’re doing great. And hey, I’m not going anywhere. You’ve got me stuck for the rest of this project.”

Your eyes narrowed in warning. “Don’t remind me.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, raising his hands defensively. “I’ll give you space to do your thing. But when this is over, I’m taking you out for something good. Food, coffee, whatever you want. I’m getting you something to reward your hard work.”

You exhaled, dragging your hand through your hair as you let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t need rewards. I need peace.”

Jungwon grinned, leaning back in his chair like a contented cat. “Well, you know where I’ll be when you change your mind.”

You slumped in your chair, staring at the screen, all the while wishing you could just somehow disappear from this situation. But as much as you hated to admit it, there was a strange comfort in the way Jungwon wouldn’t stop. He was like an annoying, cheerful force of nature, and despite the exhaustion and frustration building inside you, part of you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter when he was around.

The problem was, you didn’t want to admit that. Not yet. Not when you were still drowning in work.

The group presentation had been a disaster, as expected.

It wasn’t that Jungwon hadn’t tried-he had, in his own overly cheerful, mildly chaotic way. But he’d been so busy cracking jokes and trying to keep the energy light that he had completely fumbled the key points you’d painstakingly outlined. By the time the professor dismissed the class, you were practically vibrating with barely contained frustration.

“Seriously, Jungwon?” you said as soon as you both stepped out of the lecture hall. The words spilled out, sharp and cutting. “I gave you two things to do. Two. And you still managed to mess it up.”

He winced, scratching the back of his neck. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. I just got… nervous, I guess.”

“Nervous?” you repeated, incredulous. “You’re never nervous. You’re like a walking embodiment of confidence. How does someone like you even get nervous?”

“I don’t know!” he said defensively, his dimples making an appearance despite his flustered state. “It’s not like I planned to screw up, okay?”

You groaned, “Unbelievable.”

Jungwon trailed after you as you headed toward the courtyard, his footsteps quick and purposeful. “Hey, come on. Cut me some slack, would you?”

“Cut you slack?” you repeated, rounding on him. “You’re the reason we probably just tanked our grade! Do you even care about this class?”

“Of course I care!” he said, his voice rising slightly. His usually sunny expression was replaced with something more serious, though the dimples didn’t entirely disappear. “And I care about you, too!”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and unshakable.

You froze, your eyes narrowing as you stared at him. “What?”

Jungwon looked like he wanted to disappear into the ground. His ears turned bright red, and he shifted uncomfortably under your gaze. “I-uh… I said I care about you,” he repeated, quieter this time.

You took a long pause. “What’s your point?”

“My point is…” He faltered, running a hand through his hair. “I like you, okay? Like, really like you.”

You stared at him, your face unreadable. Then you let out a short, dry laugh. “You’re joking, right?”

“I’m not joking,” he said, his voice steady despite the obvious nerves in his expression. “I’ve liked you for a while now.”

“Wow,” you said flatly. “You sure know how to pick your moments, don’t you?”

“I couldn’t hold it in anymore!” he said, throwing his hands up. “You’re always so… so you. And I like that, even if you drive me insane sometimes.”

“Great. So now you’re in love with your biggest critic.”

Jungwon sighed, running both hands through his hair in frustration. “Why do you have to make everything so difficult?”

“Because that’s who I am,” you replied, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “If you wanted easy, you should’ve fallen for someone else.”

“I don’t want someone else,” he said, stepping closer. “I want you. Even when you’re mad at me. Even when you make me feel like I’m the dumbest person alive. I still want you.”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his intensity. For once, he wasn’t smiling, and his dimples were nowhere in sight. It was unnerving.

“Look,” you said, finally breaking the silence. “I don’t know what you expect me to say to that. I’m not exactly girlfriend material, Jungwon. I’m… complicated.”

“So what?” he said, his voice softening. “I like complicated.”

You stared at him, trying to find some trace of insincerity in his face. But he was Jungwon-annoyingly earnest, painfully sweet, and completely sincere.

“You’re an idiot,” you said, but there was no real bite to your words.

“Maybe,” he said, his dimples reappearing as his lips curved into a small smile. “But I’m your idiot.”

“Don’t push your luck,” you muttered, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at your lips.

And for the first time that day, the tension in your chest began to ease.

It started as a drizzle during your last lecture of the day. By the time you were shoving your books into your bag and stomping out of the building, the rain had graduated to a steady downpour. Great. Just great. Because, of course, life wasn’t content to leave you with the mess of the group project disaster earlier-it had to soak you to the bone on your way home too.

You pulled your hoodie over your head, muttering curses under your breath as the rain instantly began to seep through the fabric. The sidewalks were slick, puddles forming in every dip and crevice, and the wind cut through your damp clothes like it had a personal vendetta.

As you rounded the corner toward the library to make the miserable walk back to your apartment, you spotted him. Jungwon, standing under the overhang of the library entrance, holding an umbrella that looked far too small for anyone’s actual use.

“Hey!” he called out, waving with his free hand, that familiar grin spreading across his face. Even from a distance, you could see the dimples making their inevitable appearance. He jogged toward you, somehow managing not to slip on the wet pavement.

You groaned inwardly. “What are you doing here?”

“Walking you home,” he said cheerfully, falling into step beside you.

You stopped dead in your tracks, staring at him like he’d just offered to carry you on his back. “Why?”

“Because it’s raining,” he said matter-of-factly, as though that explained everything.

“Wow, thanks for the weather report,” you deadpanned. “But I’m fine. I don’t need an escort.”

“Maybe you don’t,” he said, tilting his head with that infuriatingly bright smile still plastered on his face. “But I do. What if I go home and find out tomorrow that you got struck by lightning or slipped and fell into a storm drain? I’d feel awful.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling your hoodie tighter around you. “I’d feel awful for whoever had to drag me out of the storm drain.”

Jungwon laughed, his dimples deepening. “See? This is why I’m here-to make sure none of that happens. Now, come on.”

He held the umbrella over you, but it barely covered your head and left half of him exposed to the rain. You gave him a withering look. “That thing’s useless.”

“It’s better than nothing,” he said, completely unfazed. “And besides, this way, at least one of us stays kind of dry.”

“Guess which one of us that won’t be,” you muttered, glancing at his soaked sleeve and the rain dripping from his hair.

“I’m fine,” he said breezily, as though he hadn’t just been doused in freezing water. “Come on, let’s go.”

You reluctantly started walking, muttering under your breath about how stupid this all was. The umbrella wasn’t helping much, and within minutes, your jeans were clinging uncomfortably to your legs, and your sneakers squelched with every step.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked after a few minutes of silence, your voice louder than necessary to be heard over the rain.

“Doing what?”

“Walking me home. Getting soaked. Being… you.”

Jungwon shrugged, shifting the umbrella to try (and fail) to cover you both better. “Because I want to. And because it feels right.”

You snorted. “You’re a walking Hallmark card, you know that?”

“Yeah, but I’m your Hallmark card,” he said, flashing you another grin that somehow managed to look just as bright in the rain as it did in the sun.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you grumbled, though your cheeks warmed despite the cold rain.

The walk stretched on, and though you continued to complain about the rain, about your wet clothes, about the puddles that seemed to appear just in time for you to step in them, you couldn’t help but notice how Jungwon didn’t stop smiling. Even when he stumbled into a particularly deep puddle, soaking his shoes completely, he just laughed and shook it off.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head as he tried (and failed) to wring out the edge of his sleeve while still holding the umbrella.

“Ridiculously charming?” he offered.

“Ridiculously annoying.”

“Same thing.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was a faint smile tugging at your lips that you were pretty sure he didn’t miss.

By the time you reached your apartment, both of you were thoroughly soaked, the umbrella abandoned somewhere along the way after a gust of wind turned it inside out. You paused under the awning of your building, your teeth chattering slightly as you reached into your bag for your keys.

“Well,” Jungwon said, running a hand through his dripping hair. “That was fun, huh?”

“If by ‘fun,’ you mean ‘miserable,’ then sure,” you replied, unlocking the door.

“You’re welcome for the company, by the way,” he said, those dimples making another maddening appearance.

You sighed, leaning against the doorway and giving him an exasperated look. “Why do you keep doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Being… you,” you said, gesturing vaguely at him. “Showing up. Sticking around. Putting up with me.”

“Because I like you,” he said simply, his smile softening but never faltering. “And because even when you’re grumpy and mean and complain about everything, I’d rather be here with you than anywhere else.”

You stared at him for a long moment, unsure how to respond. Finally, you rolled your eyes and stepped inside. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re worth it,” he called after you, that infuriating smile still plastered on his face.

You didn’t slam the door in his face like you probably should have. Instead, you lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching as he turned and jogged back into the rain, his hair already plastered to his forehead.

You sighed, shaking your head as you closed the door behind you. “Idiot,” you muttered, though your lips curved into a small, reluctant smile.

It started with a joke. A stupid joke.

You were sitting under the usual tree in the courtyard, nursing a fresh cup of coffee and enjoying the rare moment of peace. The rain from the other day had cleared, leaving behind that annoyingly perfect, crisp autumn air that made everyone else on campus insufferably cheerful. Naturally, that included Jungwon.

“Good morning!” he chirped, appearing out of nowhere like a golden retriever with boundless energy. He plopped down next to you, entirely uninvited, holding two chocolate croissants in a paper bag.

You raised an eyebrow. “What’s this?”

“Breakfast,” he said, handing you one.

You took it begrudgingly. “If this is an apology for the group presentation, I’m not forgiving you.”

“Noted,” he said, biting into his croissant like he hadn’t just made a complete fool of himself in front of your entire class last week. “But no, it’s not an apology. I just figured you’d skip breakfast again, and I couldn’t let you starve.”

You rolled your eyes, but you still took a bite. It was annoyingly good. “What are you, my mom?”

“No,” Jungwon said with a grin, his dimples on full display. “But I am your boyfriend, so…”

You choked on your croissant, coughing loudly as you waved him off. “What?”

He blinked innocently. “You said we were dating, remember?”

You froze, your mind racing back to that stupid, stupid joke you’d made the other day after he’d walked you home in the rain.

“You’re so clingy, we might as well be dating,” you’d said, half-laughing, half-exasperated. At the time, it had felt like a throwaway comment. Something sarcastic, just to mess with him. You hadn’t thought he’d actually believe it.

“Oh my God,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands. “You seriously took that seriously?”

“Well, yeah,” Jungwon said, his voice light and casual, like this was the most normal conversation in the world. “You said it, so I figured you meant it.”

You stared at him, utterly dumbfounded. “You… thought we were actually dating? Like, for real?”

“Why not?” he said, shrugging as his dimples deepened. “I mean, we spend a lot of time together, you’re always yelling at me like an old married couple, and I do like you, so it just… made sense.”

You were at a complete loss for words. What the hell were you supposed to say to that?

“Jungwon,” you began slowly, trying to keep your tone even. “We’re not actually dating. I was joking.”

“Oh,” he said, his expression faltering slightly. Then, as if on cue, his smile returned, brighter than ever. “Well, we could date for real, if you want.”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “I don’t even know what to do with you.”

“Accept my love and devotion?” he offered, leaning back on his hands and grinning at you.

“I didn’t know we were in a relationship,” you teased, smirking as you took another bite of the croissant.

“You didn’t know? Huh. I must’ve forgotten to propose,” he said, his tone laced with faux seriousness.

“Do it now and see how fast I run,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Noted,” he said again, but his dimples stayed put, and his gaze didn’t waver.

That should’ve been the end of it. But, of course, it wasn’t.

Over the next few days, Jungwon leaned way too far into the “boyfriend” joke. He started holding doors open for you everywhere, pulling out chairs in the cafeteria, and even carrying your bag when he saw you struggling under the weight of your books.

“Seriously?” you said one afternoon as he grabbed your bag off your shoulder without so much as a warning. “What are you, my personal porter now?”

“Just being a good boyfriend,” he said cheerfully, slinging the bag over his shoulder like it weighed nothing.

You sighed. “We are not dating.”

“Tell that to your heart,” he teased, earning himself a sharp glare.

The worst part was how unbothered he looked through all of it. Whether you scowled at him, rolled your eyes, or outright told him to stop, Jungwon just smiled back at you, those damn dimples deepening with every interaction.

One day, after class, he even showed up with a coffee in one hand and a small bouquet of flowers in the other.

“What’s this?” you asked, eyeing the flowers like they might attack you.

“Just thought you deserved something nice,” he said, holding them out. “Boyfriend duties, you know?”

You took the flowers begrudgingly, feeling both flattered and incredibly annoyed. “You’re exhausting.”

“And you’re worth it,” he replied without missing a beat.

You hated how warm his words made you feel.

Later that night, as you sat on your bed staring at the flowers in their makeshift vase (a coffee mug you’d forgotten to wash), you found yourself smiling.

You didn’t like birthdays.

It wasn’t that you hated the idea of celebrating a year passing or anything, but it was the attention. The forced smiles, the awkward small talk, the need to pretend to be thrilled when someone handed you a gift you’d never use. It was always a mess of half-forced excitement and too many expectations for something that should’ve just been an ordinary day.

So, naturally, when Jungwon mentioned “surprising you with something special” for your birthday, you’d assumed it was a joke.

“I don’t want anything, really,” you told him, waving off his persistent inquiries. “I’m not big on birthdays.”

“Okay, okay,” he’d said with a grin, his dimples making a rare but welcome appearance. “I won’t go overboard. I promise.”

Of course, you should’ve known better than to trust Jungwon. When does he ever go small?

The day of your birthday, you arrived home from class to find a single text from him: “Be at my place at 7. No excuses!”

You frowned, sitting down on your bed, trying to figure out what this was about. Your first thought was that it might just be dinner. A small hangout with just him, an idea you didn’t entirely mind. After all, he’d become kind of a constant presence in your life, whether you wanted him there or not.

But at 7 p.m., you knocked on Jungwon’s apartment door, your arms crossed defensively and an eyebrow quirked, expecting the usual antics. What you weren’t expecting was the chorus of “SURPRISE!” that greeted you as the door swung open.

Jungwon stood there, his grin wider than ever, dimples shining through with his enthusiasm. Behind him, you could see a group of people-some familiar faces from class, others complete strangers. All of them had birthday hats on, holding drinks or snacks, and looking entirely too cheerful for your liking.

Your stomach dropped.

“Surprise!” Jungwon repeated, practically bouncing on his heels. “I told you it’d be a party!”

“I-” You blinked, caught completely off guard. “What is this? Why is everyone here?”

Jungwon shrugged, still grinning like the sunshine he was. “It’s your birthday! You have to have a party. I couldn’t let you just spend it alone. That’s not how this works.”

You stared at him for a long moment. “I told you I didn’t want anything.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to give you something special,” he said, stepping aside to let you in. “Trust me, I’ll make sure it’s not too much.”

You tried to suppress a groan but failed miserably as you stepped into the apartment, your eyes scanning the crowd of unfamiliar faces. You weren’t sure if you should be annoyed or impressed by how much effort Jungwon had put into this. The streamers were too bright, the music too loud, and the smell of overcooked pizza filled the air. But despite all of that, something about it made you feel… almost warm.

“Okay, fine,” you muttered, more to yourself than anyone else. “I’m here. Happy now?”

“Very happy!” Jungwon said, his smile practically blinding as he led you toward the middle of the room. “I got cake, snacks, and everything you could need to have the best birthday ever. Everyone’s been talking about how excited they are to meet you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Meet me? We’re barely even friends.”

“Well,” Jungwon said, his voice dropping in that teasing way that made you half-annoyed and half-amused, “I think you underestimate how many people want to be around you.”

“Yeah, sure,” you muttered, but your gaze softened when you saw the way he was looking at you. Jungwon was too damn cute, his dimples practically begging you to forgive him for throwing this entire thing together without asking you first.

A few minutes later, after an awkward round of hellos to people you barely knew, you were sitting in the corner with Jungwon, a plate of pizza in your hands and a suspiciously large piece of cake in front of you. You tried to look annoyed, but it was hard with Jungwon sitting next to you, still practically glowing with excitement.

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind for a birthday,” you admitted, biting into a slice of pizza. “But I guess I can’t be mad when you’re this cute about it.”

He grinned, dimples deepening. “So, you’re saying I’m cute?”

“Ugh, don’t make me say it again,” you muttered, but you were smiling now, despite yourself.

“Deal!” Jungwon said happily, leaning back in his chair. “I’m just glad you’re here. And I know you’re pretending to hate this, but you’re secretly loving it, right?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small laugh that slipped out. “I’m not loving it. But it’s… tolerable.”

He let out a dramatic sigh of relief. “Well, that’s all I need to hear.”

As the night went on, Jungwon kept hovering around you, offering to refill your drink, dragging you into random conversations with his friends, and making sure you were never left alone for too long. You could tell he was trying to gauge how you were feeling, how much you were enjoying yourself. And, much to your own frustration, you realized you were actually starting to enjoy it.

You weren’t thrilled about the party itself, but you were warmed by how much effort he’d put in just to make sure you weren’t left to sulk by yourself. Jungwon wasn’t your type, not by a long shot but he was undeniably kind. And somewhere between the laughter and the weirdly bad karaoke (courtesy of some overenthusiastic freshman), you found yourself appreciating him a little more than you’d like to admit.

Later, as the party started winding down, Jungwon pulled you aside. “Hey,” he said quietly, looking almost shy for the first time all night. “I really hope you had a good time. I know this wasn’t exactly what you expected, but I just wanted to make sure your day was special.”

You looked at him, suddenly realizing how genuinely happy he was to see you here, despite all your grumbling. His dimples were in full force, and for a second, you were at a complete loss for words.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, but your voice lacked any real bite.

“Ridiculously charming?” he asked, his tone hopeful.

You rolled your eyes, but your heart wasn’t quite in it. “Sure, whatever. Just… don’t ever do this again without asking first.”

Jungwon smiled, that grin of his practically reaching his ears. “I’ll take it. I’m just glad you’re here, even if it was a surprise.”

You didn’t say anything back. Instead, you just stood there for a moment, letting the warmth of the room-and the inexplicable warmth you felt toward him-sink in.

The night had dragged on forever. The endless clacking of your keyboard felt like a constant drumbeat in the back of your mind, driving you closer to insanity with each passing minute. Jungwon had been sitting across from you in the library for hours now, his presence a mix of distraction and comfort as you both struggled through the assignment that loomed over you.

“Can you stop tapping your pen?” you finally snapped, glaring over the top of your laptop. “I swear you’ve been doing that for the last fifteen minutes.”

Jungwon blinked at you innocently. “Sorry! Just thinking.” He immediately stopped the pen tapping, but you could tell from the way he was looking at you that he was far from focused on the assignment.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “We’re never going to finish this if you keep making weird noises.”

“Sorry, I’m trying.” He grinned, his dimples deepening with the smile. It was almost impossible to stay mad at him when he looked like that, but you weren’t about to tell him that.

The clock ticked on, and the library started to empty. One by one, students packed up their things and left, leaving you and Jungwon alone in the quiet, dimly lit room. The only sounds now were the occasional rustle of paper and the quiet hum of the air conditioning.

You glanced at the clock. It was nearly 3 AM. You had barely written a full page. Your eyes were starting to blur from exhaustion, and the task at hand felt like an insurmountable mountain.

“Want to take a break?” Jungwon asked, his voice unusually soft.

You shot him a look, a mixture of disbelief and irritation. “We can’t take a break. We’re so far behind.”

“I know, I know,” he said with a sigh, leaning back in his chair. “But I’m starting to think that this assignment was created just to make us miserable. There’s no way it’s this difficult for everyone else.”

“It’s definitely designed to crush our spirits,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair. “And I’m pretty sure you’re part of the problem.”

“Hey!” He laughed, but it was a little strained, his usual cheerfulness slipping just slightly. “I’m just trying to keep you company, that’s all.”

You groaned, turning back to your laptop. “Company? That’s what we’re calling it now?”

“Yep,” Jungwon said, his tone suddenly more serious. The shift was subtle, but it caught your attention. “I’m really glad you’re here, actually. I know you don’t think so, but I enjoy spending time with you, even when you’re yelling at me about my pen tapping.”

You snorted. “Yell at you? Please. I’m just trying to stay sane.”

“I don’t mind it,” he said quietly. “Really.”

You paused, finally looking up from your screen, meeting his gaze. His smile was gone, replaced with that look of earnestness that you rarely saw from him. Jungwon was usually so full of energy, always joking around, always so bright. But right now, the dimples weren’t enough to mask the vulnerability in his eyes.

“What?” you asked, voice much softer now, a little suspicious.

“I… I like you,” Jungwon said, his words coming out faster than he probably intended. “Like, a lot. I’ve liked you for a while now. And I don’t think I can just keep it to myself anymore.”

Your breath caught in your throat. This was so typical of him-so sudden, so earnest, with no warning at all. But the way he was looking at you made it hard to ignore. You had to admit, somewhere deep down, you did like him too, but the idea of admitting it out loud… that felt like a huge leap.

“So… you’ve been pining for me in the background this whole time?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light despite the sudden knot in your stomach.

“Yeah,” he said, almost shy now, his dimples barely visible. “Pretty much.”

You stared at him for a long time, trying to figure out if this was some weird joke or if he was actually serious. But there was no way he could be joking-his expression said everything. He wasn’t playing around. He really liked you.

And, for some reason, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to laugh it off.

You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair again. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

Jungwon’s face fell just a little, as though he wasn’t sure whether to take you seriously or not. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you can’t just… say things like that and expect me to just… go along with it.” You paused, glancing down at your screen, avoiding his eyes. “It’s not that simple, Jungwon.”

“I know,” he said softly, his voice full of understanding. “I just thought maybe I should tell you. Because I really do like you. I can’t help it.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, gathering your thoughts, before finally speaking again. “Fine,” you muttered, voice almost too quiet for him to hear. “I guess I like you too.”

Jungwon blinked, surprised, as though he hadn’t expected that at all. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” you said, offering him a small, reluctant smile. “I guess I do. But don’t get any ideas. You’re still annoying as hell.”

Jungwon let out a soft, disbelieving laugh, his dimples showing again, though this time there was a warmth in his expression that you couldn’t quite ignore. “Well, I’m glad to hear that, even if you won’t admit you like me.”

You shook your head, suddenly feeling too self-aware under his gaze. “I did admit it. You just don’t get to be all smug about it.”

“I wasn’t smug, just… relieved,” he said, his tone soft but still that familiar mix of excitement and hopefulness. “I thought you’d tell me I was crazy or something.”

You snorted. “You are crazy, but… I guess I can deal with it. For now.”

Jungwon smiled again, the tension from before evaporating as he shifted back into his usual chipper mood. “Well, I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to be here through all your grumbling and complaining.”

“Lucky me,” you muttered, though you found yourself feeling oddly content with his answer.

And maybe, just maybe, you liked it that way.

It was supposed to be a quiet escape.

The two of you had been suffocating under the weight of endless assignments, overbearing professors, and a class that was about as exciting as watching paint dry. So, naturally, you came to the brilliant conclusion that skipping class was the only reasonable solution. It wasn’t like you wanted to fail or anything, but you really, really needed a break.

Jungwon, of course, was all in. He was always ready for an adventure, especially one that didn’t involve textbooks or note-taking.

“I’m telling you, it’s the perfect plan,” you said, half whispering as you two crept out of the building. “We just go grab coffee, chill for a couple of hours, and act like today never happened.”

Jungwon grinned, his dimples making a rare but welcome appearance. “I’m with you. Let’s live on the edge. We deserve it.”

You exchanged a glance, both of you grinning like a couple of troublemakers about to commit the greatest heist known to mankind.

But, of course, the universe had other plans.

As you rounded the corner, heading toward the exit of the building, you heard the unmistakable sound of someone’s footsteps behind you. The voice that followed immediately made your heart sink.

“Jungwon. Y/N.”

It was Professor Lee.

You froze in place, slowly turning to face him, and saw Jungwon’s face go pale as he immediately began to stammer out an apology. “Professor, uh, we… we just… need a little… break, y’know?”

You barely had time to catch your breath before Professor Lee’s stern gaze fell on you both. He raised an eyebrow, then sighed dramatically. “And where exactly do you think you’re going?”

Jungwon’s eyes widened, and you could see him mentally scrambling for some kind of excuse. “Just… just getting some fresh air. Right, Y/N?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re dragging me down with you, aren’t you?”

Jungwon, ever the optimist, gave you a sheepish grin. “I’m just offering a chance for you to be spontaneous.”

Professor Lee’s glare was sharp, and you could practically see the disappointment radiating off of him. “The two of you need to get back to class. Now.”

And that’s when everything went downhill.

In a move that could only be described as a perfectly timed tragedy, Professor Lee reached out and grabbed Jungwon by the arm, pulling him toward the door. Jungwon stumbled slightly, looking back at you with wide eyes as though you were his only hope of escape.

You stood there, frozen, watching him being dragged away like a criminal. Jungwon’s eyes locked with yours, a look of mock betrayal on his face, his dimples on full display. “You left me!” he cried out dramatically, even as he was being dragged down the hallway. “I thought we were a team!”

You couldn’t help it. The laughter bubbled up from deep inside you, and before you knew it, you were laughing so hard you could barely breathe. The scene was just too absurd. There was Jungwon-usually the one getting people to laugh, but right now, looking like a puppy who’d been abandoned in the rain.

Professor Lee wasn’t amused. “This is not funny, Y/N. Get back to class.”

You waved a hand dismissively, still chuckling as Jungwon shot you a glare over his shoulder. “You’re cruel,” he muttered. “I thought we had something special.”

“That’s what you get for trying to skip class with me,” you replied, still grinning. “You’re lucky I didn’t bail on you sooner.”

“Traitor,” Jungwon said, though there was no malice in his voice. He looked at you one more time, and you could see the hint of a smile fighting its way to his lips despite the whole situation.

Finally, after what felt like a dramatic eternity, Professor Lee gave you both a final, disapproving look and gestured for you to follow him. You gave Jungwon one last playful grin as you walked back toward class, his mock expression of betrayal fading into a reluctant smile.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he muttered, clearly still a little embarrassed. “I really thought we had a chance at freedom.”

“You’re an idiot,” you said, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “But you’ve got those cute dimples, so I guess I’ll forgive you.”

“You’re just saying that because you left me to face the wrath of Professor Lee alone,” he said, his tone light but with a hint of playful irritation.

“Sure,” you agreed, “but it’s still true.”

Jungwon sighed dramatically as you both entered the classroom, the door closing behind you. “I’m never skipping class with you again.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Says the guy who begged me to do it in the first place.”

He shot you a sideways glance, a smile tugging at his lips despite himself. “Fine. But if we’re skipping again, I’m leading the charge.”

You rolled your eyes. “Only if you promise not to get caught next time.”

Jungwon just winked. “I make no promises.”

You chuckled, the warmth of his smile lingering in the air. You’d never admit it to him, but in that moment, even the ridiculousness of the situation made you feel just a little bit more… alive.

You didn’t want to go. Honestly, you didn’t. But when your friends practically begged you to go on a double date with them-“Just for fun! You need to get out more!”-you couldn’t find a way to decline without looking like a total buzzkill.

So, naturally, you decided to bring Jungwon.

You didn’t really think he would take it seriously. You never did when it came to anything involving you and Jungwon. Sure, he was full of smiles and charm, but you always assumed it was just his way of making life a little less boring. So when you casually mentioned that you were “bringing someone along” for the date, you thought it was obvious that it was a joke.

But Jungwon, being Jungwon, took it way too literally.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said, his eyes practically glowing with excitement when you told him about the double date. “You want me to come with you? For real?”

You stared at him, a little taken aback. “Yeah, I mean, if you’re up for it.” You paused, trying to suppress a grin. “It’s a joke though, Jungwon. Just to mess with them.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “So, like, you want me to pretend to be your date, or are we actually going on a date?”

You leaned back in your chair, trying to figure out how to explain it to him without overcomplicating things. “I’m not going to pretend, but-”

Jungwon’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “I’m in! This is going to be so fun!”

You stared at him, blinking in disbelief. “Wait, you’re serious?”

“Yes!” He practically bounced in his seat. “I’ve never been on a double date before. This is going to be awesome. I promise I won’t embarrass you. Well, I mean, I might, but only in the best way!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. There was no stopping him now, though, so you just rolled with it.

The night of the double date arrived, and you were already regretting everything. The restaurant was nice enough-fancy, even but you felt out of place, sitting there with your friends, nervously picking at your food. Jungwon, on the other hand, looked like he was having the time of his life. His dimples were on full display as he grinned like a kid in a candy store.

“Okay, okay,” Jungwon said. “This is a real date, huh? So, what do we do? Do I hold your hand now?” He was clearly teasing, but his excitement made it impossible to tell if he was joking or not.

You shot him a flat look. “Don’t even think about it. I’m already regretting this.”

He winked at you, unfazed. “Too late. We’re in it now!”

Meanwhile, your friends were watching the two of you with wide eyes, clearly impressed by Jungwon’s apparent enthusiasm. They were under the assumption that you and he were actually dating, and that made the situation even funnier.

“You two are so cute together,” one of your friends, Mia, said, clearly trying to be supportive. “You should do this more often!”

You shot her a glare. “I’m not dating him. This is a joke. A joke that’s getting way out of hand.”

Jungwon, oblivious to your discomfort, smiled even wider. “Yeah, but I mean, if we were dating, I’d totally get you dessert. I’d get you all the desserts.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so ridiculous. Please don’t say that out loud.”

Jungwon just laughed, seemingly unfazed by your embarrassment. “But seriously, though, what’s your favorite dessert? I need to know for future reference.”

“Don’t you dare,” you warned, but he just looked at you like you were the cutest thing in the world, his dimples practically making a debut of their own.

Your friends, sensing that you weren’t taking this seriously enough, decided to take it one step further. They started making suggestions about how the date could go. “Why don’t you two take a cute picture together?” Mia suggested. “You know, for instagram?’”

You groaned, resting your head on the table. “This is a disaster.”

But Jungwon, being Jungwon, took this opportunity to pose dramatically, as if he was some kind of romance movie hero. “You want a picture? I’m your guy,” he said with a wink. “Smile, Y/N.”

You sighed but, much to your dismay, gave in. You weren’t going to ruin his fun, even though the whole thing was spiraling into madness.

When the waiter arrived to take the picture, Jungwon grabbed your hand out of nowhere and pulled you close, his dimples deepening as he beamed at the camera. You froze, unsure of how to react, but then-bam-the flash went off, and you were left blinking at the photo of you and Jungwon looking like an actual couple.

“You have to send that to me later,” your friend Mia said, completely unaware of your inner turmoil. “You two look so cute!”

Jungwon, on the other hand, was absolutely thrilled. “I told you we were a perfect match!”

The rest of the night was a blur of awkwardness and laughter. Every time you tried to steer the conversation away from the whole “fake date” scenario, Jungwon would burst in with his pure, unfiltered energy, saying something so ridiculous it made you laugh despite yourself.

At one point, he even tried to impress everyone by ordering an entire dessert platter, dramatically pushing it toward you. “For my date,” he said, his voice so sincere that it made everyone at the table pause. “I’m only doing this because you deserve it.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“I try,” he said with a grin.

The night ended with the two of you standing outside the restaurant, your friends still holding onto the illusion that you and Jungwon were an actual couple, while you both shared an awkward but genuine laugh about the chaos that had just unfolded.

“Well,” Jungwon said with a shrug, his voice full of playful sincerity, “if this was a real date, I’d say it went pretty well.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, trying not to laugh too loudly. “Except for the part where you were way too excited and we ended up eating like, five desserts.”

He grinned. “But hey, it was worth it. I made it fun, didn’t I?”

You couldn’t deny that. Jungwon’s energy had turned what could have been an awkward, uncomfortable night into something that was, well, bearable-even enjoyable.

“Fine,” you muttered, “I’ll give you that. You made it way better than it had any right to be.”

Jungwon’s grin widened. “That’s all I aim for.”

And as you walked away from the restaurant, you found yourself secretly grateful for his relentless positivity.

It was an assignment from hell.

That’s how you’d been feeling about your latest project from the very moment it was announced in class. Another group project, another excuse for you to do all the work while your partners barely lifted a finger. You were already bracing for the usual frustration, the annoyance, the feeling that you could’ve done this better on your own.

And then, of course, you found out who your partner was.

Jungwon.

You groaned inwardly. If you weren’t already annoyed about the project, the thought of being paired with Jungwon was almost enough to make you throw in the towel. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him-he was fine, you guessed-but he was a whirlwind of energy and positivity, which was the exact opposite of what you needed. You were going to need every ounce of your patience to get through this.

When you met him at the library to start working on the project, Jungwon was already sitting at a table.

“Y/N! You ready to crush this?” he greeted you, practically jumping up to pull out a chair for you.

You set your stuff down, giving him a tired look. “You know this is a project, right? Not a ‘let’s have fun’ time?”

He tilted his head, the cheer in his eyes not fading one bit. “Yeah, I know! But we can have fun while we work, right?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m optimistic, not impossible,” he corrected with that trademark grin of his.

You resisted the urge to laugh at his ridiculousness. Why do you have to be so damn charming?

“Okay, so… what’s the plan?” you asked, trying to get the project underway, determined not to let Jungwon’s energy throw you off course.

Jungwon immediately opened his laptop and started listing ideas, his enthusiasm palpable as he rattled off suggestions. Normally, you’d be irritated by someone who couldn’t focus, who got distracted every few minutes, but for some reason, today felt different.

Maybe it was the way Jungwon’s excitement was contagious, or maybe it was because you’d been so stressed with school that his carefree attitude felt like a breath of fresh air. Whatever it was, you found yourself actually getting into the project.

“We could do this… or maybe add this idea? I think it could work, right?” Jungwon said, his voice bright with hope as he gestured at the screen.

You glanced at his work, surprised to see it was actually pretty decent. He wasn’t slacking off like you’d expected.

You nodded, genuinely impressed. “Not bad. Actually, I think that would work well.”

“Really?” Jungwon beamed, his dimples flashing. “I knew it! I knew you’d think it was a good idea!”

You tried to hide your smile, but you couldn’t help it. His enthusiasm was infectious, and despite your initial hesitation, you were starting to enjoy yourself. The work flowed smoothly, and for once, you didn’t feel like you were carrying the whole weight of the project on your shoulders.

There was something oddly comforting about working with Jungwon. His presence, though relentlessly cheerful, didn’t feel as grating as it usually did. In fact, it was kind of… nice. You found yourself laughing at his jokes, even when they were awful, and feeling oddly grateful that he was by your side, keeping things light when they could have easily turned stressful.

By the time you reached the end of the day, you realized you’d spent hours working with him, but it hadn’t felt like work at all. The project was done, the ideas were all sorted out, and you were left with a feeling you hadn’t expected: satisfaction.

“Well, that was… actually fun,” you admitted, feeling a little surprised at how well the day had gone. “I didn’t think we’d get through this without killing each other, but we did.”

Jungwon laughed, the sound bright and genuine. “Of course we did! We make a great team. See? I told you, you just have to trust my process!”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Your ‘process’? Is that what you’re calling it?”

He winked. “You don’t like it? I think it’s pretty effective.”

You shook your head, though you couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips. You hadn’t thought it was possible, but after spending the whole day working together, you couldn’t help but feel… something.

Something warm. Something that was definitely more than just friendship.

You were starting to realize that the attraction you had towards Jungwon wasn’t just a passing thing. It wasn’t just his smiles or his dimples that were making your heart do flips. It was the way he made everything feel lighter, the way he made you feel like maybe, just maybe, things didn’t have to be so serious all the time.

And you couldn’t ignore the feeling that the more time you spent with him, the more that attraction grew.

“I guess you’re not so bad after all,” you said, pushing away from the table.

Jungwon’s eyes lit up, and his grin grew impossibly wider.

He laughed, the sound easy and carefree. “See? I knew we’d get along.”

As you packed up your things, you found yourself glancing over at Jungwon, trying to figure out what had changed. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but you knew something was different. Maybe it was the way he made everything feel easier. Or maybe it was the way he smiled at you, those dimples softening the edges of your usual grumpy mood.

Whatever it was, you were starting to realize that your feelings for him were changing. Slowly, but surely. And as much as you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t ignore the way your heart skipped a beat every time he flashed that irresistible smile.

“See you later, Y/N,” Jungwon said as he slung his bag over his shoulder, his eyes glinting with that familiar energy. “Next time, we can take over the world together.”

You snorted, trying not to grin. “We’ll see, Jungwon. We’ll see.”

But as you walked out of the library, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, your world was already starting to change in ways you didn’t expect.

And maybe it had something to do with a certain cheerful, dimply guy you’d been paired with.

It was a quiet day, the kind where you’re just trying to survive the hours before the weekend. You had spent most of the morning in a half-daze, taking notes during class, trying to push through the pile of assignments you’d been avoiding.

Jungwon had been his usual cheerful self, cracking jokes during every lull in the lecture. You, of course, had rolled your eyes, but even you had to admit that there was something almost comforting about his constant, unrelenting positivity.

But today, something was off.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it at first. You were sitting at the back of the lecture hall, arms folded, half-listening to the professor drone on about whatever boring topic they’d decided to assign this week. And then you saw it.

Jungwon was talking to one of your classmates, someone you didn’t know too well-Soojin, a girl who was always a little too bubbly, even for your taste. She was leaning in close to him, laughing at something he said. You could hear her high-pitched laugh from where you were sitting, and for some reason, it grated on you more than usual.

You watched as Jungwon, completely unaware of the growing discomfort in your chest, flashed her one of his bright, perfect smiles. The kind of smile that always made you weak in the knees. The kind of smile he’d given you countless times, only now, it was directed at her.

You clenched your fists under the desk, trying to ignore the sensation of something off. It wasn’t jealousy. No, absolutely not. Why would you care if Jungwon was talking to someone else? He was friendly with everyone, and it was totally normal. You were just being ridiculous.

But still…

You couldn’t focus on the lecture. Your mind kept wandering back to the sight of Jungwon leaning closer to Soojin, laughing and smiling like he always did with you. But this time, something about it felt different. You weren’t used to seeing him so at ease with someone else.

It was irrational. It wasn’t like you had any claim on him, after all. But still, the feeling gnawed at you.

Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of class. You grabbed your stuff, not making eye contact with either Jungwon or Soojin, and headed for the door. You could hear Jungwon calling your name from behind, but you didn’t stop. You needed a second to breathe, to shake off the weirdness that had started to settle in your chest.

“Hey, wait up!” Jungwon caught up to you in the hallway, looking as cheerful as always, though there was a glint of curiosity in his eyes. “What’s up? You okay?”

You shrugged, pretending to be too focused on checking your phone to look at him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. You know, class stuff.”

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. He paused for a second, and then, as if he’d caught onto something, he smirked. “You know, I saw you in class. You seemed a little… off.” He leaned closer, his eyes glinting with mischievous energy. “Are you jealous?”

Your heart skipped. What?

You shot him a glare, your face turning a little hotter than you would’ve liked. “Shut up,” you muttered, walking a little faster, trying to escape the awkwardness you were suddenly drowning in.

Jungwon’s grin widened, and you could hear his footsteps quickening to match yours. “Come on, admit it. I saw the way you were looking at Soojin. Don’t try to hide it.”

“I said shut up,” you repeated, feeling like your face might combust from the heat. Why was this so hard to talk about? It was ridiculous. It’s not jealousy, you told yourself, it’s just… annoyance.

But Jungwon wasn’t letting it go. “You know, if you are jealous, it’s totally fine,” he said, his voice light but with a teasing undertone. “It just means you care. And I mean, who wouldn’t care about this?” He motioned to himself dramatically, grinning like a total dork. “Look at me. Hard to resist, right?”

You couldn’t help but snort, despite the awkward tension in the air. “You’re such an idiot.”

Jungwon laughed, clearly pleased that he had managed to get under your skin, even if it was just a little. “I’m serious, though. If you’re jealous, you should just tell me. No shame in it.”

“Jungwon,” you said in a low, flat voice, looking at him with a deadpan stare. “I’m not jealous. At all.”

He tilted his head, his dimples popping as he smiled at you. “Okay, okay. If you say so. But I’ll make it easy for you: I’m not interested in Soojin, alright? You’re my favorite person, and I like hanging out with you.”

You tried to suppress the weird feeling that fluttered in your stomach at his words. You could have sworn you felt the slightest bit of relief, but you weren’t going to admit that. You refused to.

“Good,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. “Just don’t get all buddy-buddy with her too much. We have a project to work on, remember?”

Jungwon raised his hands in mock surrender. “Of course! But hey, if you’re still worried, you can always just spend more time with me. I’ll make it up to you.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain your usual grumpy exterior, but deep down, you felt a flutter of warmth at the thought of him wanting to spend more time with you. “You’re impossible.”

“You know it,” he said with a wink, his dimples deepening in that infuriatingly cute way. “But you like me anyway, right?”

You shot him an exasperated look but said nothing. You didn’t trust your voice not to betray you. So instead, you just kept walking, silently acknowledging the strange, messy tangle of feelings that were starting to form in your chest.

And maybe, just maybe, you’d admit to yourself later that you didn’t mind being a little possessive over someone who had become far more important to you than you were willing to admit.

It started off as one of those perfectly ordinary days. The kind that drags on but doesn’t feel too bad. You’d woken up late-thanks to your terrible habit of hitting snooze about five times too many-and had rushed to class, not even bothering with breakfast. As usual, you were already mentally prepared to be irritated by the day’s trivialities.

But there was one thing that made today just a little less unbearable.

Jungwon.

You weren’t sure when it had started, but lately, you’d noticed something odd happening whenever he was around. The way his dimples appeared every time he smiled, the way his easy laughter seemed to cut through your grumpiness, and how you-for some strange reason-had started to smile back.

It was subtle at first. A little half-smile when he cracked a stupid joke, a slight curve of your lips when he mimicked something you’d said with that playful glint in his eye. It was all very unremarkable, except for the fact that you were smiling at all.

But today? Today, you caught yourself smiling for real.

You were both standing outside campus, Jungwon had been talking-about some new movie he wanted to see-and you were half-listening.

The next thing you knew, you were laughing at something he said.

It wasn’t the usual forced, sarcastic laugh you gave him. No, this time, it was a genuine chuckle.

And then you realized something.

You’d smiled. Actually smiled. At something he’d said. Not because it was funny in a sarcastic way or because you were humoring him. No, you’d smiled because for the first time in a while, something he said made you feel… happy.

You didn’t want to think about it too hard, but your chest felt weird. That fluttery, stupid feeling you tried so hard to avoid.

Jungwon noticed, of course. He always did. He had this ridiculous ability to pick up on the smallest things about you-things you hadn’t even noticed about yourself.

“You smiled,” he said, eyes wide with mock surprise.

You immediately tried to cover it up, shifting uncomfortably. “I didn’t,” you muttered. “You’re imagining things.”

“Nope,” Jungwon replied with that teasing grin of his, his dimples deepening. “I saw it. I think… I think you actually like me.”

You froze for a second. That ridiculous fluttering feeling flared up again, and you immediately started to feel the heat rise in your cheeks. “What are you talking about?” you snapped, trying to play it cool. But your heart was beating a little faster than normal, and you could practically feel the awkwardness rising between you two.

“You know, like-like like me,” Jungwon pressed, his eyes glinting with mischievous light. “You’re all smiley when I’m around. Don’t worry, it’s totally fine. I won’t bite.”

You felt like you were dying a little inside. “I don’t like you. At all.”

It wasn’t that you were lying, exactly. But, well… maybe you were lying just a little. Or at least stretching the truth.

Jungwon leaned against the wall next to you, completely unfazed by your obvious discomfort. “You sure about that? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure I saw you smile again just now.” He gave you a cheeky look, clearly enjoying your obvious inner turmoil.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You’re insufferable.”

He laughed, and it was like music to your ears. “That’s what I like about you, though,” he teased, his voice full of that energy that never seemed to run out. “You’re so grumpy, but I know you secretly like me.”

“God, you’re impossible,” you muttered, trying to mask the way your heart was speeding up.

Jungwon was watching you closely, his grin widening as he studied your flushed face. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop. But it’s cute, you know? You don’t have to hide it.”

You were silent for a moment, avoiding his gaze, suddenly very aware of how close he was standing to you. Your mind was racing, trying to figure out what to say, but the words just wouldn’t come out. You weren’t supposed to like him, you told yourself, especially not like this.

But somehow, you couldn’t keep it up. Not anymore.

“Fine,” you finally muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I think I might actually like you.”

Jungwon blinked at you for a moment, clearly surprised. Then, he broke into a wide grin, dimples on full display.

“See?” he said with mock triumph. “I knew it!”

You let out a strangled laugh. “Shut up, Jungwon. I hate you.”

He just grinned even wider, if that was possible. “Sure, you do. But you’re smiling, so I know you don’t.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to look anywhere but at him. “You’re really something, you know that?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, his voice softening slightly. “I think you’re pretty great, too.”

And for a moment, the teasing stopped. The air between you two shifted just a little bit, and you suddenly felt… nervous. But you didn’t want to deal with that right now. You weren’t ready to think about it.

Instead, you muttered under your breath, “You’re lucky I like you too, you dork.”

Jungwon’s eyes softened, his smile turning genuinely warm. “I’m not so lucky. I’m just glad I finally got you to admit it.”

You didn’t say anything else. You didn’t need to. Because, somehow, it felt like everything had just changed. And you weren’t sure where this was going, but for the first time in a long time, you didn’t really mind.

You hadn’t been feeling great all day, but you didn’t think much of it. Just a little headache, a scratchy throat, maybe a bit of fatigue. You’d been pushing through it because, well, what else was new? You didn’t have time to get sick. There were assignments piling up, friends texting you about plans, and the general chaos that came with university life.

But by the time the evening hit, you were definitely regretting that stubborn “I’m fine” attitude. Your head was pounding, your nose was stuffy, and you could barely keep your eyes open. You’d barely managed to crawl into bed, curled up under the covers, and tried to ignore the fact that you were now a full-fledged mess of sniffles and fatigue.

But of course, that was when you heard someone knock on the door.

You groaned into your pillow, annoyed at the thought of anyone bothering you right now. It was probably just one of your roommates, or someone looking to “check in.”

You’d been a little less friendly with your friends recently, not out of any real malice, but more because you weren’t exactly in the mood for company. You’re fine, you told yourself. No one needs to see you like this.

You’d barely made it to the door before you heard a familiar, cheerful voice call your name.

“Hey! You home?”

You blinked a few times, trying to clear your blurry vision. Of course it was Jungwon. Who else would it be?

You reluctantly opened the door, rubbing your face, feeling a mix of annoyance and exhaustion. Jungwon stood there, holding a plastic bag in one hand, looking a little too bright and sunny for the current situation.

You leaned against the doorframe, glaring at him. “What do you want, Jungwon? It’s like… seven o’clock. Why are you here?”

“I came to take care of you,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You look like you’re dying, so I thought I’d help out.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m fine,” you muttered, even though your voice was hoarse. “I just need some sleep. You should go back to whatever you were doing.”

Jungwon raised an eyebrow at you, clearly not buying it. He pushed past you into the apartment, walking straight toward the kitchen without waiting for an invitation.

“Nope,” he said, turning around with that annoying grin still plastered on his face. “I’m staying. You need soup, medicine, and someone to make sure you don’t turn into a zombie.” He pulled a container of soup out of the bag. “I brought chicken noodle, your favorite. And medicine!” He waved the little bottles in the air like some kind of triumphant hero. “I’m basically a professional nurse now, so don’t worry. I’ve got it all covered.”

You gave him a flat stare, but despite the irritation bubbling in your chest, there was an odd warmth at the edges of your annoyance. You were so not in the mood to deal with this right now, but part of you couldn’t deny the fact that Jungwon being here, in his usual sunshine-y way, was actually kind of nice.

You sighed. “You really don’t have to do this. I can take care of myself.”

Jungwon just smiled wider, like that was exactly what he’d expected you to say. He plopped down on the couch and kicked his shoes off, as if he’d settled in for the long haul.

“I’m not leaving you to suffer alone,” he said casually, opening the soup. “Besides, I’m probably the only person who would be willing to come over and make you feel better, right?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but then stopped. He wasn’t wrong. Everyone else in your life would’ve probably texted you a “get well soon” message and gone on with their day. But Jungwon… well, he was different. He cared in a way that, despite your annoyance, you couldn’t quite push away.

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, leaning back against the doorframe and crossing your arms.

Jungwon just laughed and pulled a spoon out of his bag. “You say that now, but wait until you taste my world-famous chicken noodle soup.”

“You didn’t make it,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Did you just pick that up from the convenience store?”

“I may have,” he said, not at all ashamed. “But I promise it’s still delicious. It’s the thought that counts, right?”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, you let him serve you a bowl of soup, setting it down on the coffee table in front of you.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, watching him sit down beside you, eyes sparkling with pride.

“I’m just doing what any decent human would do.” Jungwon replied with a shrug.

You couldn’t help but chuckle despite yourself. “A decent human would’ve let me be, though. Not show up with soup and medicine and insist on taking care of me.”

Jungwon tilted his head, the dimples appearing as his smile softened. “Well, if I’m being honest… I kind of like taking care of you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his voice, but you immediately masked it with a scoff. “You’re such a weirdo.”

Jungwon just shrugged again, looking entirely unbothered by your sarcasm. “Maybe. But you like me anyway.”

You didn’t respond immediately, not trusting yourself to say anything that wouldn’t sound too revealing. Instead, you took a spoonful of the soup, secretly enjoying how warm and comforting it felt-both the soup and the unexpected care.

“You’re lucky I’m sick, or I’d be kicking you out right now,” you grumbled, trying to sound more irritated than you actually felt.

Jungwon grinned. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But you’re not kicking me out. I’m your personal nurse now. I’m here to stay until you feel better.”

You sighed but didn’t argue. The truth was, part of you secretly appreciated it-the fact that Jungwon cared enough to show up like this, no matter how annoying he could be.

“I’m still mad at you for this,” you muttered under your breath, taking another bite of soup.

Jungwon just grinned and leaned back on the couch, clearly pleased with himself. “Sure, keep pretending you’re mad. I know the truth.”

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between you two. You didn’t want to admit it, but there was something oddly soothing about having him here. His presence,, his warmth… it made you feel less alone in this miserable state.

And even though you’d never admit it to his face, you were kind of glad he’d shown up.

It was late. Later than you’d normally stay out, but there was something about the night air that made everything feel a little more bearable. The kind of crisp, cool air that wrapped itself around you like a blanket, making the world seem quieter, softer. The city lights blurred in the distance, but here, on the side streets, everything felt peaceful.

You and Jungwon had been walking for a while now, your footsteps the only sound breaking the silence. It was almost funny-this whole thing. A walk at night, no real reason for it, just the two of you strolling through the empty streets, talking about everything and nothing.

The weird part? You didn’t mind. It wasn’t weird to have him beside you. It wasn’t weird to share the kind of silence that felt comfortable, not awkward.

Jungwon was talking about his dreams-what he wanted to do after university, how he imagined his future-and you listened, like you always did, half-paying attention while still being invested. You couldn’t help but smile a little when he talked about things he was passionate about. His excitement was infectious, even if you weren’t always as enthusiastic as he was.

“I think… I think I’d want to work with kids,” he said, his voice steady but a little shy, like he wasn’t sure if it was a stupid dream to have. “Or maybe something with education. I don’t know, just something where I can make a difference.” He looked at you, his eyes wide with that familiar innocence. “I know it sounds cliché, but I want to help.”

You nodded, your heart feeling a little lighter. “You’re not wrong,” you said, a small smirk on your lips. “It sounds like a good dream.”

Jungwon chuckled, glancing at you. “I know it’s cheesy, but hey, if I’m going to do something, I want it to matter. I want it to mean something.”

You glanced up at the stars, feeling a strange sense of calm. The night felt endless, like it could go on forever, and for a moment, you didn’t mind the thought of being out here with him. Just the two of you. No pressure, no expectations.

“You know,” you said, your voice softer than usual, “I get it. I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want to do too. Sometimes it’s hard to figure it out, though, right?”

Jungwon nodded, but there was a quiet, almost unsure look in his eyes as he glanced at you. “Yeah, I know. It’s scary, thinking about the future. But…” He trailed off, taking a breath before continuing, “I think I’m starting to realize that maybe I’ve known what I want for a while now. It’s just… I didn’t want to admit it.”

You raised an eyebrow, looking at him. “What’s that?”

He paused, then took a few steps closer, his eyes locking onto yours, a quiet seriousness taking over his expression. “I know it’s kind of unexpected, but I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately. And… well, I think I’ve been in love with you for a while.”

You stopped walking, your chest tightening, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you. Your heart skipped a beat, and you found yourself staring at him in complete silence. Jungwon’s expression was vulnerable, his usual teasing smile gone, replaced with something real. Something genuine.

You should’ve said something. You should’ve joked, laughed it off, but the truth was, the words didn’t sound as surprising as they should have. Because somewhere deep down, you already knew. You’d known for a while now, hadn’t you?

Your heart pounded in your chest, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. The silence stretched between you two, thick and fragile, like the world was holding its breath.

And then you took a step closer, closing the distance between you two. You didn’t know why, but something about the way he looked at you made it impossible not to.

“Jungwon,” you said, voice barely above a whisper, “I… I think I love you too.”

His eyes widened slightly, as if he hadn’t expected that, but then that familiar, dazzling smile spread across his face. The dimples appeared, and your heart seemed to beat faster just at the sight of them.

“You-really?” His voice was full of disbelief, but there was a warmth there, a joy you could feel radiating from him.

You nodded slowly, a small, shy smile forming on your lips. “Yeah. Really. I told you already.”

And then, before you could overthink it, before you could question everything, Jungwon stepped forward, his hand brushing against yours. It felt like time slowed down as you both closed the space between you, and suddenly, it was just the two of you under the night sky, with no more words needed.

He leaned in first, just slightly, as if waiting for you to pull away, but you didn’t. Instead, you closed your eyes and let him. The kiss was soft at first-tentative, like he wasn’t sure if it was okay. But then something in both of you clicked. It deepened, slowly but with the kind of intensity you hadn’t expected. His lips were warm, gentle, and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself completely give in to the moment.

When you pulled away, you didn’t know how to react. Your heart was still racing, and Jungwon was standing there, looking at you like he couldn’t believe what had just happened.

“You kissed me,” he said, his voice almost breathless.

You gave him a playful, teasing smile. “Yeah, I did.” You leaned in, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “You should probably return the favor.”

Jungwon didn’t need to be told twice. His lips found yours again, and this time, there was no hesitation. No distance between you two. It was messy and real and, honestly, a little bit cheesy. But in that moment, it was everything.

And when you finally pulled away, you both stood there, grinning like idiots in the middle of the night, the weight of everything unspoken suddenly feeling like it had all fallen into place.

“You really are the worst,” you muttered, your voice still a little shaky from the kiss, but your smile genuine.

Jungwon laughed, his dimples deepening, his eyes full of something new. “I know. But I think you like it.”

You didn’t answer, but the truth was, you did. You really did.

It was one of those rare moments where everything just fell into place.

The day had been long-filled with classes, assignments, and the usual chaos that came with being a university student-but now, as the evening crept in and the air grew cooler, everything around you seemed to settle. You and Jungwon had retreated to your favorite spot on campus, a little bench under a large tree near the library, far enough from the usual student hustle to give you both some peace.

The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving a soft golden light that made everything look a little more serene. Jungwon had his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, his usual smile softened, and there was a comfortable silence between the two of you. It was the kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled with words, but somehow still felt full.

You glanced at him, watching the way his dimples appeared when he smiled, the familiar twinkle in his eyes as he caught you looking. “You okay?” he asked, his voice soft, the kind of tone that seemed to match the evening around you.

You shrugged, but the gesture felt less grumpy than it normally would have. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”

Jungwon nodded, his gaze drifting out toward the campus as well. “About what?”

You could’ve said a lot of things-how everything had felt a little chaotic lately, how much you had to juggle as a student, or how you sometimes felt like you didn’t belong in the middle of it all. But instead, you said something simpler, something that felt right.

“I think… I think I’m okay,” you murmured, staring out at the dimming light. “Like, really okay. With everything. With… you.”

Jungwon turned to look at you, his smile growing wider, his dimples deepening with each passing second. “You mean that, huh?”

You nodded, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest. “Yeah, I do. I never thought I’d say it, but… you’re not so bad. You, uh… balance me out.”

He leaned back on the bench, his eyes warm with affection. “I’ve always thought you balanced me out too. You make me more… grounded.”

It was the first time, in a long while, that you truly felt it-that quiet, steady connection between you two. You weren’t the same, not even close. But there was something in the way you fit together that just made sense. Jungwon, with his sunshine attitude and infectious energy, had a way of pulling you out of your shell, making you laugh when you least expected it. And you? You had a way of keeping him on his toes, of showing him that life wasn’t always as simple as it seemed, but sometimes that was okay.

The silence lingered for a while longer, comfortable and content.

Then, as the sky darkened completely, you looked at Jungwon and sighed. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

Jungwon grinned, the usual mischief dancing in his eyes. “And you’re the best part of my day.”

You rolled your eyes, but deep down, you knew it was true. There were still things about him that irritated you-like the way he folded blankets or how he couldn’t stand to be quiet for more than five minutes-but that was part of it. The part you didn’t mind. Because in the end, it was those little differences that made you both… better.

And for once, you were okay with that.

You turned to face him, catching his gaze for a brief moment before nudging him with your elbow. “Don’t get used to this, though.”

He laughed, the sound as light and carefree as ever, and for a split second, you realized that it wasn’t the perfection of the moment that made it special-it was the messy, imperfect, and sometimes chaotic pieces that fit together so well.

“You’re still my grumpy cat,” Jungwon said, leaning back against the bench with that familiar smile on his face. “But I like you that way.”

You didn’t need to respond. The way you both sat there, side by side, under the quiet sky, was enough. And in that moment, you realized that despite your differences, despite the ways you both clashed, you made each other better. And that, perhaps, was the most real thing of all.

For once, you were okay with that.

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