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emphistic · 3 months

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Forget-me-nots

A/N: call me Nick Cannon the way im out here rawdogging this fever

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“Hey, babe,” you said, catching Sukuna by surprise. You placed your hands on the back of his gaming chair, “I’m gonna go on a walk. D’you wanna come with?”

“I’d rather go for a run, but God knows your slow ass wouldn’t be able to keep up.” Sukuna removed his headset and placed it on his desk, before following you out of the room.

If he had kept his headset on for just a little longer, Sukuna would’ve heard the protests and complaints of Gojo. The white-haired man was utterly disappointed at Sukuna for leaving in the middle of a game, who was going to carry him now that Sukuna was gone?

Sukuna looked you up and down, watching you as you put on your shoes, and let out a scoff, getting your attention. “You’re forgetting something.”

You met his gaze, “Uh huh, go on.”

“A jacket, dumbass. A jacket.”

You waved your hand around, dismissing his suggestion. “Don’t be silly, Sukuna. It doesn’t go with my outfit.”

“That so?” He raised a brow.

“Mhm.”

“It’s literally dark out, babe. Who are you trying to impress?”

The two of you continued on your way out of the complex without putting an end to your usual lighthearted banter. The sky was clear of clouds when you made it past the front doors; and cool air immediately hit your skin. Okay, maybe Sukuna wasn’t wrong in reminding you to layer up.

But, despite his demeanor on the exterior, Sukuna was far from cloud nine. Was that selfish of him? To truly have everything, and yet, still want more? He managed to get himself a loving girlfriend, not to mention, one that was exceptionally beautiful, both on the inside and outside. He should be content; he should be satisfied. But how could he? When guilt gnawed at him every second, every minute, every hour?

Sukuna was afraid, deathly.

He could tell you about the bet, but it was inevitable that you would leave him right after. Or, he could choose to keep silent about the bet for the rest of his life. But that would mean Naoya Zen’in having a leg up on him, and that was no good.

Sukuna couldn’t help but sneak a few glances at your face, admiring your elated expression. He liked the sound of your voice, and hearing you laugh. The thought of you being gone plagued his mind, and he knew he would be a dead man walking if that nightmare became true.

Things truly could not be worse for the pink-haired man, who felt utterly pathetic. He felt vulnerable, and weak. Completely opposite of the image most people portrayed him as. Which is quite amusing, to say the least.

Sukuna was at a crossroad, but it was clear he wasn’t choosing either path. Maybe it was the worst choice, maybe it was the best choice, but Sukuna knew that doing nothing was probably the most impactful choice, and so he decided to let God play out his fate, leaving him to wait day and night, never knowing when you would find out and his world would flip upside down.

To bet something is to “risk something, usually a sum of money, against someone else’s on the basis of the outcome of a future event, such as the result of a race or game.” Sukuna knew that, when he was drunk at that damned party. Sukuna knew that, when he signed up for this. Sukuna knew; he wasn’t stupid; he was a grown man. And yet, he had never felt so little.

“—Nobara was telling me, after the party, about my . . . complexion, or, I don’t know. My skin was apparently glowing—”

“Are you a virgin or something?” Sukuna cut you off with a laugh, turning to look at you. And, not that he had any knowledge in the field, but, with the way your hair blew ever so slightly in the wind, and with the way the moonlight casted upon your face, illuminating your best features, you looked just like a cinematic masterpiece.

You gave him a pointed look, as if to say, You would know, and again, Sukuna laughed.

“It’s called afterglow, babe. Science-y stuff, I figured you would already know, but I guess not.”

“Can you go one second without being rude?”

“You’re funny; don’t get your hopes up too high,” Sukuna ruffled your hair as you both continued down the dimly lit street.

It was a quiet, peaceful night. There would usually be something happening a block away, maybe sirens in the distance, kids playing around and screaming, but there was not. Maybe that was a blessing, maybe that was a curse, but it left you and Sukuna both to your own thoughts, and that was comforting enough.

“Is everything okay? Did you have a long day?” you asked, breaking the overwhelming silence. You turned to look at Sukuna with worry written all over your expression.

Sukuna had been tense ever since he got home, like a heavy weight had been placed upon his shoulders. You thought it strange; your boyfriend was a carefree man. He was easygoing and laid back; he knew how to start up a conversation, get everyone’s mood up, but this. . . This wasn’t Sukuna.

Whenever you two went on walks or runs together, sure, there’s a silence, but it was never like. . . Like something was wrong. It was never like this.

“Hm? No, I’m fine. I just have a lot to think about, that’s all. Don’t worry for me, ‘kay?” Sukuna gave you a smile, but it only tightened the knot in your chest, your concern doing the opposite of diminishing.

Truth was, you didn’t know what to think. And if you had to be honest, you couldn’t say your mind hadn’t wandered to the idea of Sukuna being unsatisfied with your relationship. Was he upset with you? Did he think you too much? You shuddered just thinking about it.

Unbeknownst to you, Sukuna watched as your eyebrows furrowed, and you chewed at your bottom lip. It was a habit of yours — the latter, and Sukuna noticed you only gave in to it whenever you were anxious or deep in thought.

“Hey, I was thinking, how about we go out sometime?” asked Sukuna, out of the blue.

You two hadn’t been on a date since the baseball game, and that was a while ago. Sukuna missed spending an entire day with you, and was desperate for something fun to take his mind off of the bet.

“You make it sound like we haven’t even kissed yet,” you covered your mouth, trying, but failing, to stifle a giggle.

“What else did you want me to say, huh?” Sukuna humored you, mentally patting himself on the back for managing to lift the tension.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe something like, ‘Do you want to—,’ actually, I have no idea. How do you ask someone on a not-first date?”

“That’s a good question,” Sukuna added. “Now that I think of it, I’m not sure.”

“Eh, whatever. Any other way is totally better than yours.”

“Now who’s the rude one, hm? Do you want to go on that date or what?”

You laughed, “I’m only teasing, ‘Kuna. Of course I do; I don’t even know why you’re asking.”

“It’s polite.”

“You? Polite? Hilarious.” You placed a hand on Sukuna’s arm, but he pulled away, feigning to be hurt by your words. But you knew he was just trying to joke around.

“Awh, baby, don’t be sad. How can I make it up to my handsome, handsome boyfriend?”

“You can’t.” Sukuna turned his head away from you, hiding his grin.

You didn’t take no for an answer, and stood on your tiptoes in order to plant a wet kiss on Sukuna’s cheek, even going as far to voice a Mwah! sound.

When Sukuna still didn’t look at you, you started to wonder if he was genuinely upset. But when he abruptly turned around to smash his lips on yours, all other thoughts in your head completely vanished and you melted in his arms. Placing your hands on his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around your waist, you kissed him back just as fervently.

One of Sukuna’s hands wandered down your middle to the small of your back and rested just above your behind.

With your boyfriend’s lips on yours, his arms wrapped tightly around you, and his murmuring of sweet nothings every now and then, all previous worries and concerns of yours were no match. Maybe everything was fine, after all.

“You look good,” Sukuna said, a sultry look in his eyes as he shamelessly checked you out.

You couldn’t help the heat rising to your cheeks, “Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

He shrugged, “I try.”

“So, where are we headed?” You asked, immediately after entering your boyfriend’s car.

Sukuna hadn’t told you anything since he asked you out. Only thing he said was, “Look pretty for me, like you always do, and bring a jacket or something.” But since he knew there was no way in hell you were going to listen to that last bit, he already knew he was giving you his hoodie if you needed it.

“Ah, you wouldn’t know,” said Sukuna, as he started driving down the road.

“Oh, yeah? What, you gonna drive me to a secluded area and chop off my head or something? Is that why you’re being so lowkey about all of this?”

“Would you like that?” Sukuna quipped, turning to look at you as he pulled up to a red light.

You laughed, “I don’t know; I haven’t tried it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

It wasn’t long till Sukuna and you arrived at a crowded space overshadowed by the large buildings beside it. Said space was filled from corner to corner with food vendors and other small shops selling trinkets, clothes, toys, et cetera. There was music booming from speakers located all around, and the air smelled like a variety of food that had you salivating on the spot. Not to mention, the beautiful array of string lights above all the stalls, giving an authentic sense and feel to things.

Families, friends, couples, and individuals walked through the streets of the area. Carrying toys that lit up or made music with a simple click of a button, holding small paper plates stacked with food, bargaining prices of intricate garments, or simply conversing with their companions. The air was filled with the sounds of laughter, gossip, jokes, whispers.

The exciting, fun-filled atmosphere of the place was surely popular among its customers. And, even taking one look at it all, you knew you were bound to have endless entertainment and enjoyment here, tonight.

“What do you think?” Sukuna asked, noticing you had gone quiet. His voice was barely above a whisper, saddened by the idea of you hating it. He thought you might’ve liked something like this, that’s why he picked this place. But maybe his judgment was—

“It’s—I’ve never seen anything like this before. It’s beautiful, and the food smells amazing,” you smiled, looking at Sukuna.

Unbeknownst to you, the pink-haired man let out a sigh of relief upon hearing your answer.

“I used to go here all the time with Yuuji back when we were little; he loved the oyakodon. I don’t know if they still have the same one he preferred.”

“We should take a picture, babe. Make him jealous that we’re having a better dinner than him.”

Sukuna laughed, “You’re starting to sound like me. I think I’m rubbing off on you, squirt.”

“It’s only payback since he ate the last of my Häagen-Dazs. I was saving it,” you grumbled, still holding a grudge about the distant memory.

“Sure, sure.”

Sukuna snaked an arm around your waist, directing you to a red, striped stall. Smoke flying from the back of it as people fried and cooked and did whatever. “Jakoten?” he suggested.

“Obviously.”

If there was one thing you learned while being with Sukuna, it was that he was an eater. He wasn’t picky, no, quite the opposite, really. He could eat literally anything he got his hands on. Sukuna had a strict diet — being an athlete and all that — but he had his off days, where he could eat anything he pleased.

And, although you are a little less “wild” compared to him, you two often shared interest in the same dishes. Like jakoten, for example. But that’s a simple one, most people like it, so that’s not much good of an instance.

Sukuna and you waited near the front of the food stand, and when it was time and your order came out, Sukuna helped put a cupped hand under your chin, catching all of the tiny crumbs in his palm.

“Good, right?”

Your reply came muffled, as you chewed on the fried fish paste. “Mhm.”

“Where do you want to go next?” Jakoten was delicious, Sukuna couldn’t deny it, but you would be wrong if you thought that was enough to satisfy his hunger.

“Hm, we should go and see if they have tonkatsu. I’m kinda hungry for a main dish now.”

Together, you and Sukuna walked hand in hand around the people-filled space, seeking out different meals to try. Contrary to your main mission — finding a filling dish, you and Sukuna both had your fair share of small appetizers and sweet treats. When you two decided unanimously to find a table to sit down at and enjoy your dinner, you weren’t aware of how difficult of a journey that was.

To say the place was packed was an understatement, and most people didn’t even try to find seats, instead opting to stand and walk the whole time. After getting hundreds of steps in just to come out fruitless, you and Sukuna gave up on even the idea of sitting down.

“You know, I was thinking,” you began, while picking at the greens on your plate, “we should totally get a bowl of noodles, and recreate that scene from Lady and the Tramp.”

“We totally should not.” Sukuna shook his head, an unamused look on his face as he bit into a Japanese type of skewered chicken.

“C’mon, it’ll be cute. And, and, we would get to kiss,” you pursued.

“Is kissing you supposed to tempt me?”

“I—How dare you; you know what, don’t talk to me.” You turned away from a laughing Sukuna.

“Aw, sweetheart, I was just joking. ‘sides, who would pay for your food if you walked away from me?”

You turned back around.

Pleased with himself — having gotten your attention back, Sukuna gave a boyish smile, “That’s more like it,” before swinging an arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your temple.

You squeezed your eyes shut at the feeling, “Don’t, ‘Kuna. You’re going to make me drop my food.”

“So cold. Your boyfriend’s giving you kisses and you tell him to stop? That’s a new low, even for you,” Sukuna feigned a hurt tone, but remained smiling all the while.

“Mm, yeah. Sulk all you want, you were the one who refused my kisses first. Don’t you dare forget.”

“You’re really never going to let that go, are you? Ah, I know, would this,” he pulled out a wad of cash, “change your mind?”

Sukuna had seen you eyeing a ramune-selling vendor ever since the both of you arrived. Of course, after being around you for so long, he was quick to learn that ramune was one of your weak spots. You were a fiend for anything sweet, after all. And the popular carbonated drink was perfect for the current weather.

Seeing your eyes widen to saucers, Sukuna knew he had won you over.

“Just, get me one, too, alright? You’re not the only thirsty person here.”

As you began to walk in the direction of the stand, Sukuna abruptly pulled you back, “Actually . . . they might have soju, so get me a cup of that instead. You know the kind I like.” And with that — and a final kiss to your cheek, Sukuna sent you off.

It didn’t take very long to acquire your drinks, as the line was pretty short seeing as most people were starting to leave the area considering the late time. On the other hand, it did take you a fairly drawn-out amount of time to find Sukuna. For he wasn’t in the same place he was before; Sukuna was now standing in a much more secluded area. And, he wasn’t alone, either.

The blond dude, who hosted that party, was standing in front of a very tense-looking Sukuna. To passersby and the naked eye, the two men might look like they were simply a pair of friends conversing. But to you, you noticed Sukuna’s clenched jaw. You noticed his arms, crossed over his chest. You noticed his eyes, usually holding a light to them, were dark, and Sukuna was glowering.

You assumed they started talking a little while after you left Sukuna to go shopping, and, as strong as your morals were, you couldn’t help but listen in to their conversation.

“—I’m surprised, I didn’t foresee a chance to meet you tonight, captain. And, another date? You’re really scoring, aren’t you? Though, I can’t say I expected less from the Ryomen.”

“Look, Zen’in, I told you — a million times, actually, I’m done playing this stupid game of yours. Grow up, or, better yet, find something else to entertain your fucked up brain.”

“Woah, didn’t mean to hit a nerve there. I was just about to ask — since we’re already here — if you wanted your cash now, or later. Wouldn’t want to intrude on your little date.” Naoya let out a low laugh, “You know, you’re really starting to drain my bank account. First kiss, two dates, and you fucked her? Man, you’ve outdone yourself.”

With each sentence that man spoke, your jaw only dropped lower and lower. Your chest tightened, and it felt unbearably suffocating to breathe. Tears threatened to spill at any second, but you still weren’t sure if Naoya was lying, and making all of this up.

God, let this be just a nightmare.

Sukuna couldn’t have. . . Sukuna wouldn’t—he wouldn’t do something like that to you, right? He wouldn’t use someone, all for a silly bet.

Heat rose to your face, as emotions bottled up inside of you. You didn’t know how to feel. Angry? Sad? Betrayed?

When the blond noticed you standing only a few feet away, and snickered, “Whoops, looks like I am interrupting something.”

Naoya flashed you a fake smile, before turning back to Sukuna, “Take care, Ryomen.” He pressed multiple hundred dollar bills onto the pink-haired man’s hand, and took his leave.

Sukuna hadn’t noticed you before Naoya said something, and when he saw your face, hurt written all over your features, his eyes softened. He tried to take a step forward, but with every step he took, you took two backwards.

“Sukuna, I—I don’t even know what to say to you,” your voice cracked, and Sukuna swore his heart shattered right then and there at the look on your face. “Is it true? — the things he said?”

It pained Sukuna, to see you hold out hope. Hope for him. Hope for your relationship. He was undeserving of such grace to be bestowed upon him, and couldn’t say anything but, “I’m sorry.”

Your expression morphed into that of confusion, and then into one of frustration and anger. You couldn’t believe Sukuna just threw away everything you two had, shared, dreamed of, all for some money and a stupid bet.

“Was nothing we had real to you? Was everything just a big ole lie you fed me so that you could see some more zeros at the end of your already large enough fortune? . . .Sukuna, answer me.”

Your voice got softer as you spoke, till it was just above a whisper. Your breathing was uneven, and came in gasps. This was all too much for you to wrap your head around.

“I trusted you, I gave you everything. You saw me vulnerable, you saw me naked, you . . . you—” You weren’t even aware when it started, but tears were streaming down your cheeks at this point, and even wiping them away with your sleeve didn’t help.

All the while, the man who brought you so much joy, and now, so much pain, could do nothing but stare back at you in silence. His eyes were empty, the light gone. The man you loved, gone. Sukuna didn’t try and defend his stupidity, he had no reason to. He was in the wrong, and was — rightfully so — being berated for his doings. Sukuna loved you, but pride was a much stronger feeling than love.

“I thought you changed, Sukuna. I thought you matured, and grew up, and learned, but . . . God, I was so wrong. You’re nothing different than the boy who tormented me in high school, aren’t you. But, I don’t understand. . . What did I do to you? What did I do for you to—to treat me like this? You willingly accepted to be paid to take me out?”

“Was I not enough for you, Ryomen? That you felt the need to be rewarded for staying with me?” Your voice was so, so soft; it sent a pang through Sukuna’s heart.

In your eyes, Sukuna now looked so different, after having learned what you did. He was really nothing but a man. A man whose pride and dignity and ego took the best, and worst, of him.

“I can’t believe I even trusted you. But, you know what, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what you think of me. It doesn’t matter what I did. Anything regarding you doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

You’re not sure what took over you at that very moment, but you do know that throwing a drink at a man does contribute to getting your emotions out. “There, you can have your soju, you can have your money, you can have whatever you want. Good bye, Ryomen. And good fucking night.”

You had no way home; Sukuna was the one who drove you two here, and you both knew that. But you didn’t care. As long as you got away from that man you would be okay. You would be okay. . .

At that very moment, after seeing you storm away from him, and into the crowds of people — who appeared shocked to see a woman with mascara running down her cheeks, — Sukuna understood the term ‘significant other’. He realized you were his other half. You completed him. But now. . . You were gone, disappeared, left — forever, if he didn’t do something about it. Sukuna wasn’t whole. Hell, he wasn’t even half. He was nothing, nothing without you.

It wasn’t like Sukuna to cry; he was a grown man. And yet, he had never felt so little.

As the days went on, Sukuna couldn’t have been more stupid as to think you would talk with him after a week’s time, and that everything would go back to normal. He wanted this to be a nightmare. But oh, how wrong he was. For days upon days upon days, you greeted him with nothing but silence.

You blocked him on all social media, you premeditated routes to avoid him on campus, you deleted his number, you did everything to erase the face of the man whom you called the love of your life from your mind. The both of you went from texting or calling each other almost every night to complete radio silence. It drove Sukuna to the brink of insanity.

“—I’m just saying, you should go tell her you’re sorry. I mean, that was a really fucked up thing to do. And, even coming from you, I’m surprised.” Yuuji popped another potato chip into his mouth as he lounged on his older brother’s sofa.

“Don’t you think I’ve done that already? She hates my guts, Yuuji, and—and I don’t blame her but. . . Right now, she thinks I’m a dickhead who just used her for money. But that’s totally not true.”

Yuuji raised a brow, as if to say, Are you sure about that? And Sukuna sighed, plopping down beside his brother.

“Okay, I’ll admit, I technically was using her, but only at the very beginning, but everything after our first phone call was real, genuine. I didn’t get into this whole bet thing to hurt her, I was just trying to prove Naoya’s bitchass wrong and maybe make his wallet lighter at the same time. . . I really, really love her, Yuu—”

“Y’know, I’m not a big fan of listening to your drama-filled life, but I’m also not very keen on hearing you be a sap.”

Sukuna, outright ignoring his brother, continued on with his speech anyway, “God, this might be the most stupid thing I’ve ever done.” He ran a hand down his face, exasperated.

“It is.”

Sukuna shot him a pointed look, and the younger boy only shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, dude, I’m pretty sure your girl broke things off permanently. Besides, there’s not much you can do to redeem yourself, anyway. Betting on a relationship is a pretty shitty move.”

“Do I look like I don’t know that?” Sukuna grumbled, stealing a handful of chips from Yuuji’s bowl.

“Well, you could’ve at least explained yourself while you had the chance, instead of just saying you’re sorry. I mean, poor girl, you faked a relationship with her and that’s all she knows.”

Sukuna — deep in thought, held his head in his hands.

“I’m sure if you tried to give an explanation she would at least hear you out. Eh, it might not even be too late to get her a bouquet or something. Whaddya know, I heard girls liked those kinds of things, when you get them their favorite flower and stuff.”

Yuuji paused, “You do know her favorite flower, right?”

“. . .”

“Man, I’m an optimistic person at heart, but this is just. . . You might be a lost cause, ‘Kuna.”

Sukuna had a lot of hope. Key word: had. As in, used to have.

Attempt no1:

They say Forget-me-nots (also referred to as Scorpion Grasses) represent true love, and respect or, at least, something of the like. But, the flower also — when gifted to someone — symbolizes that you’ll always hold them in your heart and in your thoughts and in your mind. The flower could additionally be interpreted to suggest fidelity, and being truthful, genuine, to someone you love.

Now, Sukuna knew you were smart. And he never doubted that fact, despite all of his previous teasing and joking of that. But he had never wished for someone to have knowledge about the meanings of flowers more than he has at this very moment.

It’s funny, one can laugh, but it’s true that Sukuna spent countless hours researching different flowers and their archaic all the way to their modern meanings just so he could prove maybe he wasn’t that much of a dick, after all.

But maybe, he should’ve put a little more effort into the planning of his execution rather than the organizing part of it.

Sukuna knew you were avoiding him, even going as far as changing your daily routes to classes even if it meant walking farther distances. He was more impressed than offended at how dedicated you were to the whole “Never-Seeing-His-Face-Again” bit.

There really wasn’t much he could do to be able to see you in person, since you blocked all contact with him, but . . . Sukuna did happen to think of one way he could meet up with you.

While he may not have been the best boyfriend, Sukuna was still . . . decent, sorta, if you put aside the whole bet crisis. And, even if he couldn’t remember the purpose of your Student Council meetings, he did remember the directions to where your briefings took place. Call him a stalker or serial killer or whatever, it doesn’t change the fact he drove you to and from those damned meetings.

Pacing to and fro outside of a library was already strange enough; being covered in tattoos and having pink hair did not help with the amount of stares Sukuna received, but right now, he couldn’t care less. Sukuna gripped the bouquet of Forget-me-nots — and other flowers, but it was mainly filled with Forget-me-nots, like his life depended on it.

He went over his speech — that he had previously practiced with Yuuji the night before — over a hundred times in his head. But when he suddenly heard you call out his name out of confusion, all that he managed out was a plethora of garbled “I’m sorry’s” and “Please’s.”

“Sukuna? What—what are you doing here?” you asked, bewilderment written all over your features as your eyes wandered down to the enormous bouquet in his hands. Being greeted by your ex-boyfriend right after finishing a meeting was not on today’s Bingo card for you.

“I—I know the other night was . . . a mess,” Sukuna scratched the back of his neck, “but I didn’t get to explain myself and—”

“No, it’s okay, you have nothing to explain. Everything was a lie; everything you said was a lie; everything we did was a lie. See? I get it; no need for your clarification.” You shook your head, and began walking down the street to your next destination.

Even after knowing Sukuna for so long, you were a fool for thinking you could “outwalk” him. The male had no intention of letting you leave without you hearing him out first, and he was able to catch up to you within just a few strides.

“Can you just let me talk? For a second?”

You quickened your pace, trying your hardest to get him off your tail, but he just wouldn’t budge. Doesn’t this count as harassment?

“There’s nothing for you to say, Sukuna; I’m not wasting my time with you on this.”

Sukuna murmured your name, “Please, there’s more to the story than you think. I didn’t accept the bet to hurt you, I. . .” His voice trailed off as he wondered what to do next, but he suddenly remembered the bouquet and shoved it into your arms.

“What is this?” Your face morphed into one of incertitude, your voice softening as you examined the bouquet, but still, your pace never slowed.

“Special flowers, for a special girl.”

You rolled your eyes, again, quickening your pace; you were now speed walking while holding a comically large bouquet. Sukuna was finally not the only one being stared at, though he didn’t revel much in that fact.

“Don’t say that. You know we’re not together anymore; we’re over. Are you ever going to get that through your skull?” You finally stopped in your tracks, and turned to look at Sukuna — half because you were out of breath from walking so fast and half because you wanted to see the expression on his face.

“We don’t have to be; c’mon, I want to make things right—”

“Sukuna! I wasn’t expecting to see you here!” A high pitched voice called out, out of the blue.

You both turned your heads to see who it came from.

“You never texted me after I gave you my number last week. Don’t tell me you’re shy; there’s nothing scary about this girl,” the short brunette giggled.

In truth, Sukuna had no idea who this was. Probably just some rando who hit on him after seeing him play basketball.

“Lady, I don’t even remember your name—”

But the girl had already caught up with Sukuna and looped her arm around his, acting all friendly and whatnot. Sukuna looked at you for help, but you merely scoffed, amused with the sight, “You shouldn’t have to make things right in the first place. You chose this, don’t you remember?”

Exhaling, you turned on your heel and walked away.

“Nobs, I think I might take a break from the dating scene, for a while. I mean, I’ve only recently begun to be able to look at Sukuna’s face without breaking down in tears.” While you tried to appear better off, your voice gave it all away. You weren’t completely over him yet.

“But, you’re hot; you’re young. This could be the perfect opportunity for you to make Sukuna regret losing you.” Nobara tried her hardest to get you to go to this party with her; she knew about your recent breakup, of course, but she was apparently too scared to go on her own, since Maki was unavailable.

“If Sukuna’s going that just gives me all the more reason to not go,” you stopped shoving ice cream in your mouth for a second to really get your point across.

Nobara sprawled across your bedroom floor, miserable, but not as miserable as you. She started thinking about not going to the party after all, but she had been looking forward to it all week! Ugh, going alone is the most “Loser thing” ever.

You paused your eating, and thought to yourself, If Sukuna’s really desperate to explain to me and apologize, he must be in his feelings, so he probably won’t go to the party.

“Ah, you know what, maybe I can go to that party, after all—”

“Really? Oh, my God! Yes!” Nobara immediately jumped up from the floor and threw her arms around you, trapping you in a hug.

“I’m still stuck on why you’re so happy. I seriously do not get what’s so great about this party.”

“Everything, duh.”

“Whose house is this, again?” you asked, once you and Nobara pulled up at the address you put into the GPS.

“Uh, dunno. I’m pretty sure Yuuji does, though; he got me the invite.”

At the mention of his name, your mind immediately went to his brother. Which was your first mistake, since tonight was supposed to be fun, and help you forget about everything that went down.

“Oh, so they’re in the same year as us, then?”

“Mm, probably. C’mon, what are you stalling for, let’s party!” Nobara dragged you out of the car and continued dragging you until you both arrived in front of the door.

Upon entering, you noticed the house was . . . nice — definitely not a mansion, unlike someone else’s, but it was the size of a typical “party house”. It looked sorta old, but it wasn’t rundown, so maybe people just used it a lot for large gatherings like this.

Did you want to play Seven Minutes in Heaven? No. Were your protests overlooked? Of course. Did you sit down in the circle? Yes. Yes, you did. This was now your second time playing the game, and your opinion of it hadn’t changed at all. Being surrounded by drunk or high college kids instantly soured your mood, and you almost regretted agreeing to join Nobara.

A brunette girl, whom you recognized as the girl from yesterday, spun the bottle first, and the game commenced. What’s different about this house is that it has multiple closets, so the game progressed pretty quickly, with several couples being in their respective closets at once.

When it came down to your turn, you spun the bottle, though, not without some hesitancy, at first.

1 . . .

2 . . .

3 . . .

The empty bottle went around the circle three times before it landed on . . . Sukuna? What the fuck? You hadn’t even noticed he was here. This happened last time, too. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with this game? Is it cursed or something? God.

There was visible and audible shock amongst the crowd.

“Didn’t this happen at Naoya’s party?”

“Yeah, it did!”

“That’s crazy.”

“Look, I know this might not be the best situation to say this but—”

Despite your misgivings about doing so, you went in the closet with Sukuna anyway. And after locking the door behind him, Sukuna turned to you with a desperate look on his face.

Attempt no2:

“I’m giving you seven minutes, because that’s all the time we have in here anyway and also because I’m bored and curious as to what you think is a valid apology.”

“Okay, that’s—that’s enough for me. . . I know — that from the moment we met, it started off bad. Beyond bad. Horrible, even. But I want to make things right between us. Because, you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And, I fucked things up. I followed through with Naoya’s bet when I was drunk and out of my mind. I should’ve ended it the next day but I didn’t; I wanted to prove to Naoya I could take you out. Because . . . I’ve liked you for a long time, probably since high school, even. And I know I never expressed that in a good way, but that’s only because I never realized it myself. So, seeing him just dangle the money in front of me, I just—I just thought of the money as a nice ‘incentive’ or something.”

“That’s a weird thing to think.”

“Yeah, I know. And I was stupid to think that that justified what I was doing. But, everything after our first phone call was real, I swear. Nothing we did together was fake or me just using you to get money. But, I won’t deny that that doesn’t change the fact I was an asshole—”

“You are an asshole.”

“Okay, that I will admit. Yes, I’m an asshole. But, I’m sorry. I’m a sorry asshole. Heh.”

“Did you just laugh at your own joke?”

“I—uh—” Sukuna took in a deep breath, “I know you could have as many me’s in your life, and hate them all the same. But I’ll only ever have one you. And that’s all I need. So please, I won’t ask for you to take me back; I don’t deserve that, but please, I just want you to hear me out.

“You can punch me, kick me, block my number and delete it, but please, don’t ignore what I’m saying to you right now. Know that I’m sorry — though sorry doesn’t quite cut it, but please know. Know that I love you. Know that I’m completely devoted to you. Know that I will kiss the ground with which you walk upon. Know that I love you, for fuck’s sake, and will wait for you to accept that — you don’t have to love me too, just accept that I love you. Please, know.”

Sukuna’s voice was soft as he spoke with such earnestness you almost wanted to feel guilty. You knew what he did was unforgivable. And yet, you couldn’t help but feel as if you wanted to just forget all that had happened and go back to how things used to be between you two.

You would be a terrible liar to say you hadn’t missed Sukuna, and although he was a stupid asshole, his words proved he did nothing with ill intention. He agreed to the bet because that was the extra push he needed to be able to ask you out. He couldn’t have done it by himself, out of fear or anxiety or whatever. It was an impossible thought — the idea of Ryomen Sukuna being scared of rejection, but nobody was superhuman. Everyone has emotions.

Speaking of which, maybe it was an emotional choice to take a step forward. Maybe it was an illogical choice to finally meet Sukuna’s eyes since you two entered the closet. Maybe it was an impulsive choice to wrap your arms around him, bringing him into a tight hug, with your head resting on his chest. But, either way, you felt it was the right choice.

At first, Sukuna was tense, surprised at the sudden embrace. But, he remembered it was one he longed for, ever since that fateful night, and it didn’t take long for him to return the hug, wrapping his arms around your torso.

Through silent, unspoken words only the both of you shared and understood, you two basked in the moment of finally getting your love back. Sukuna had more words to say than he could speak. You had more feelings to share than you could show. The time you two spent apart was excruciatingly and regretfully (on your part) long.

On both sides there was an absence of something fundamental; whatever you two built while together was gone. But now? There’s not much to be said except for the light returning to those crimson eyes that you so loved.

It’s enigmatic; you don’t know what possessed you to speak up — your voice muffled due to burying your face in Sukuna’s chest. But you knew it was partially because of how long you spent bottling up your emotions: anger, sadness, regret, longing. All for one man, and one man only.

“I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate your stupid brain, that managed to apologize whilst using math as metaphors. I hate your dumb smile, which still stuns me even after everything. I hate your annoying voice, which is the only thing I can fall asleep to. I hate your hair, which stands out in every crowd I enter to avoid you.

“I hate your motorcycle, which even the rational part of my mind still imagines hearing the engine of. I hate your hands, which I undeniably long to feel in my hair. I hate your way of talking to me, which I can never get bored of, no matter how hard I try. I hate when you lie your way out of the littlest of things. I hate when you’re not around, and I have no one to tell me jokes that don’t even make sense. I hate that you think you can just win me over because you got me flowers knowing they have a specific meaning.

“I hate that I hate you. I hate that I still love you.”

Hearing you sob your heart out while laying everything bare for him, Sukuna couldn’t help but place a kiss on your crown, burying his nose in your hair. After all, Sukuna had a feeling you were just listing parts of him you loved. But either way, he didn’t mind. This was simply the start of everything reverting back to normal, something both you and Sukuna longed for. And, —

In the end,

Sukuna didn’t want anything. He wanted everything. He wanted you. (you were his everything.)

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒

A/N: Thanks for all the love and support I’ve received on this series!!, it was definitely a pain to finish and every one of your comments and reblogs and likes definitely helped me get through writing this <3

Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @lordbrainsnatcherr @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside @kelerina-ballerina @emikokomura @xiraxdl @sterzin @catobsessedlady @alwaysfreakingout @uhnanix @ssetsuka @wrldtups @lovra974 @rzcnlb @piercddprincess @satoru2716 @bananaminn @tomiokasecretlover @bigraga-sk @villainsevilandhot @5seos

#its COMPLETE finally #sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna fluff #sukuna angst #sukuna x y/n #sukuna ryomen x reader

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beenbaanbuun · 6 months

Text

air freshener w/poly woosan

It came as no surprise when San wrapped his arms around your waist and hoisted you up into his strong grip. His nose pressed into your neck as he inhaled deeply, sighing with the exhale.

“You smell of work,” he grumbled as he carried you through to the living room. He threw himself down on the couch, dragging you along with him. “That stupid lemon air freshener that Jaehyun keeps on his desk.”

You brought your blouse to your nose, sniffing it gently. Sure enough, behind the overwhelming scent of Wooyoung’s cologne (he wouldn't let you leave the house that morning without spritzing you a few times… possessive bastard) there was a hint of lemon. It was barely noticeable, but to San, it was the end of the world.

“You smell of that little weirdo again?” Wooyoung called as he poked his head through from the kitchen. He had that stupid joke apron on, the one San bought him for his birthday, and you tried to hold back the giggle that rose up your throat. The frown on his face and the cooking knife in his hand were hardly helping to make him look anything other than silly. Not that you'd ever complain about your boyfriends being adorable. “Seriously, babe! Who keeps an air freshener on their desk?”

“Someone who wants their work space to smell nice?” you lay back in San’s arms, letting him manhandle you a little until you were sat sideways in his lap, legs kicked out to the side. “Maybe he doesn't like the overwhelming scent of men’s cologne that comes from me day in, day out.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes over dramatically.

“You smell perfectly fine, brat,” he scowled, “besides, maybe we don't want you coming home smelling like another man’s lemon air freshener!”

“It's hardly like he can control where the smell goes,” you sighed, “you're just being jealous over nothing again.”

Wooyoung went to open his mouth, probably about to threaten you with a punishment, but San shooed him away with a flick of the wrist. With a perfectly on-character stomp of his foot, the shorter man retreated into the kitchen to finish whatever masterpiece he'd decided to cook for the three of you today.

But you knew you weren't safe, even with Wooyoung gone. While he may have expressed his feelings loudly and proudly, the man behind you wasn't exactly the silent type himself. You felt his breath against your ear, and you internally groaned.

“We're not jealous, baby,” San whispered against your ear, as if trying to soothe an angry dog. You weren't angry - far from it, you actually thought this was quite amusing - but San had always been the calmer, less explosive of your two boyfriends. “We just like it when you smell of us. You know how we get…”

He kissed the shell of your ear softly. Without prior knowledge of San, it wouldve been hard to tell whether it was an entirely innocent gesture or not. You knew your boyfriend like the back of your hand, though. Before the night was over, you were going to smell like them again.

“Possessive?” You cocked your eyebrow at the man. He chuckled.

“Call it primal instinct, babe,” he said.

You snort as you giggle.

“My boyfriends are cavemen, got it.”

You could see the muscles in his jaw clenching and unclenching, and you couldn't help but let out a little giggle. It was always fun to say the role of the mouse, tempting fate by dancing around the big bad wolf’s feet. He was often more patient than the fox that was now humming a little tune in the kitchen. One would pounce immediately, while the other would let you play a little.

You were grateful you'd landed in San’s lap rather than Wooyoung’s. After the day you'd had, being a little shit sounded like the perfect way to relieve some stress.

“You're pushing your luck,” he sang in your ear, “you're lucky I sent Youngie away. If it were up to him you'd already be bent over and your cheeks would be a pretty shade of pink, hm?”

“Yeah, because he's a brat who can't stand it when anyone else gets the last word…”

San chucked darkly into your hair as his hands began to roam across your body. They were gentle, yet possessive, only further proving your point.

“He's the brat?” San shook his head, “I think we both know that you're the only one guilty of that. Youngie just doesn't like it when you argue for the sole purpose of riling us up…”

“It's not for the sake of riling you up,” you whine as if you're not lying through your teeth. As if you're not fully aware of the fact that San knows you too well to believe you, “you're being jealous over nothing. It's an air freshener, it's not like he's been fucking me over his desk.”

And just like that, a switch flipped. Whether it was the blatant lie about their jealousy, or the final comment you made that pushed him over the edge, you couldn’t care less. All you cared about was the dangerous look that swam through his dark eyes. He looked ready to pounce and if you said much else, you had no doubt that he would.

His hands came to a still when they reached your hips. Strong fingers squeezed your flesh, no doubt leaving bruises in their wake with how hard his grip was. You should've winced, but you smiled instead, getting some sort of sick enjoyment out of the dull ache you felt.

“Bold words for someone entirely at my mercy,” San growled in your ear, sharp teeth nipping at the lobe, “you know just as well as we know that that man wouldn't even dare touch what's not his. He doesn't have the balls to even look you in the eyes, hm? Let alone fuck you…”

You squirmed in his lap, or at least tried to. The grip he had on your hips was tight, and it only grew tighter as you wriggled around. Your fun lasted just a few seconds before he pinned you in place again.

“Fucking behave,” he said with gritted teeth, “don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, brat. Carry this on and you’ll get nothing.”

“I’m not doing anything,” you grumbled. He just laughed. Loud and brash as he tipped his head back against the couch.

“Good one, babe,” he squeezed your hip one final time before letting his hand move to rest upon the button of your pants, “now shut up and let me remind you who you belong to.”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez fic #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung smut #san x reader #san smut

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lem0nademouth · 2 years

Text

things heartstopper does brilliantly because i refuse to let some of you monsters ruin it for everyone

1. models healthy consent practices!! oh my goodness!! asking to kiss, double checking that consent is enthusiastic, being honest about moments that lacked consent (see: b*n h*pe and imogen asking out nick). later in the books we get even more amazing examples of consent being an ongoing conversation!!

2. the teenagers act their age!! they’re awkward, they’re confused, they’re unsure of themselves, they are PLAYED BY YOUNG ACTORS!!! it’s realistic and beautiful and doesn’t set unreasonable expectations for viewers like almost every other show about high schoolers

3. SUPPORTIVE PARENTS!!! all of the parents we have met so far have been loving, supportive, compassionate, and patient. it’s so nice to have multiple queer and trans characters who are embraced by their parents and their friend’s parents from the beginning. and tao’s mom is an icon.

4. safe people and places!! the characters have trusted adults like mr. ajayi and mrs. singh and safe places like the art room that they can go to when things are rough. it models healthy support network building and healthy coping skills!!!

5. all the ways you can come out and be out!! it tells a beautiful “coming out isn’t always easy and it’s never the end of the journey” story without making coming out seem like a disaster waiting to happen. yes, charlie was outed - and people still jumped to his aid even before nick came around. no one pressures nick to come out (a major story arc some of y’all clearly didnt pay attention to) and they tell him it’s fine if he doesn’t know what to label his sexuality if he even wants to label it at all.

6. LETTING. BOYS. CRY. oh my god it’s so refreshing to see a show where boys get to cry instead of punching walls. and not once does someone tell them crying makes them less masculine. no one tells anyone to stop crying. they’re allowed to be emotional and it’s wonderful.

7. affection. i adore the way this show portrays all the small ways you can say “i love you”: a homemade picture frame, buying your apple juice every day, waiting until you’re ready, taking you to the beach, bringing over cookies for movie night, bringing their dog to the date to cheer you up, running over in the rain, punching someone in the face for you.

feel free to add more!!! i just want to highlight the best parts of this show + graphic novel series because it really is a masterpiece. i hope kit (and the rest of the cast and crew) knows that he’s doing a good job - a great job - and that no one else’s shitty behavior can change that.

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spasmsofthought · 4 months

Text

the risk (is drowning) [jake seresin x f!reader]

This little 1k piece is 100% inspired by the song Risk by Gracie Abrams. What a masterpiece this song is.

Also a special dedication to all my anxious wallflower girlies (especially those in their mid-to-late twenties). You are seen and loved. You will be wanted. xoxo

Warnings: Some indirect allusions to anxiety/social anxiety.

Please like, comment, reblog. Let me know what you think! xo

on A03 here

+++

"It feels like the universe is pranking me."

The bar is loud and bright and crowded, even in the shadows of the back corner where you and your roommate Alexis are sitting on stools. A remixed pop song is playing from the speakers in the room - it sounds like something you heard in CVS three days ago while picking up your prescription strength Benadryl. Damn hives. You knew better than to let Jessica be the one to choose the takeaway order for lunch. She never remembered anybody's food allergies.

"I wonder," You continue speaking as you swirl the straw in your club soda, "if I'm on some alien reality version of punk'd. I feel like there's a camera trying to catch me over my shoulder. I keep waiting to hear a laugh track in the background."

Alexis just sighs from across you. Then she gives you the look that she's been giving you all evening - full of love but also half-reproach and half-amusement.

"I think you might've coordinated my outfit for nothing," You look down at the number you're wearing. It's something that's much different than you're usual look - not as casual and more flashy. It screams look at me with several exclamation points. You don't remember the last time you wore something to make someone else notice you - not intentionally. You don't really know for sure if it's helping you feel more confident or more like a poser.

"I wore mascara for no reason." You slump against the wall at your back. "He hasn't shown up. I don't even think he's going to be here tonight."

There's a minute of semi-silence where you take in the ambiance of the place. You notice that the music over the speakers has changed genres to a popular country song that has some people by the pool table swaying or singing along at the counter with beer bottles in their hands pretending that they're microphones.

"Speak of the devil," Alexis smirks at you and then points her chin towards the direction of the front door. She's not wrong.

There he is in all of his golden glory. Jake Seresin. Lieutenant, Naval aviator, Top Gun graduate.

He's never actually introduced himself to you; you've never met him. It's not that hard to get a beat on who he is though - he's all anyone ever talks about in this place. You notice you're staring and swivel your attention back to Alexis.

The amount of times you've daydreamed about his eyes or, God, his hands feels almost wrong due to the fact that you've never even spoken a word to the man.

He really is just your type: a blue-eyed all-American boy with a killer smile and all the confidence in the world. You can practically feel the rush of heat to your face and you bring your soda to your lips for a quick swallow.

It had been really challenging at first, pushing yourself out of your comfort zone and intentionally choosing to spend time with crowds of people, even if it's really only Alexis you ever talk to. It's taken months to feel much more comfortable even hanging in the back corner of a bar like this.

Jake had been a regular before this became your weekend hangout spot with Alexis and ever since the first day you saw him you'd known that he wasn't the type of person to escape anybody's notice. Whether it's his natural charisma or a learned charm, you looked at him once and haven't stopped looking.

Your life has always felt more monotone - shades of black and white with spots of blue or green or yellow or pink here and there. Even from far away, you can tell that Jake Seresin's life is in full, vibrant technicolor. You keep wondering what that must be like.

"If there's any time to shoot your shot it'd be now, before the groupies surround him." Alexis advises you.

He's just making his way to the bar counter after calling out greetings or doing that weird bro handshake guys do with each other when they're acquaintances but don't know each other that well.

You don't know why you came tonight, why you confessed this to her in the first place. You don't know why your mind has been stuck on a Jake Seresin loop. Why this has been the one thing it hasn't let go of.

You're almost ready to bolt out of there, indecision weighing heavy on your shoulders. The indecision isn't even the worst part because you're friends with indecision. It's been there for you all your life.

It's the fact that you want to go up there and introduce yourself to him that's actually terrifying. You can't remember the last time you wanted something like this. Have you?

"If you don't get up and go over there yourself, I will make you."

Your mom used to tell you that the only way you started learning how to swim as a young girl was when she tossed you into the deep end of the pool with a swimming instructor and you had to learn first-hand, in the moment, how to paddle in water to keep from drowning.

"But he's so hot," You whisper, leaning across the table as your hands start to shake, "I'm no supermodel on a runway. I've never even had a boyfriend."

"How have I never known that you're in your late twenties and never had a boyfriend?" Alexis gapes, one of her hands coming to cover your shaking ones.

"Never even been on a real date, actually." You grimace and lean away, pulling your hands out from under hers.

"I'm not going to force you," Alexis softens, "If you're really not ready, we can go and come back some other time."

You take a deep breath in, then a slow breath out. "What if he shoots me down?" What if I drown in rejection?

"Remember what you said when we took that philosophy course on morality in grad school and we were arguing about what it means for a person to have 'character'?" You frown at Alexis' words. Grad school, where you met her and became life-long friends, feels like a lifetime ago. "You said, 'It's your motivations and actions that make you who you are.' If you go over there and he's the one that rejects you, that is communicating something to you about who he is. His rejection is not about you."

You take a second breath and shrug, "That makes sense, I guess."

"There's a reason I'm your best friend y'know." Alexis flips her hair over her shoulder.

"I'm worth this," You nod your head adamantly, peeking at him from the corner of your eye. But your eyes don't meet nothing. It's only a quick glance, but there's a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. Something that tells you that you won't be making a complete fool of yourself.

"Damn right you are," Alexis says.

You slowly stand up from your seat against the wall, shaking your hands out. You're going to let what you want override your indecision and anxiety, even if it's just for sixty seconds.

"Okay, okay, okay," You whisper to yourself. Taking a step and then turning back towards Alexis.

"You've got this," She reassures you. "Go, be brave."

Your turn around and walk forward, Jake Seresin in your sights. Maybe you in his, based on the second glance your garner. You turn your head one last time to give Alexis and anxious, unsure smile and then you walk the rest of the way to the bar counter by yourself. You don't look back.

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sciderman · 4 months

Note

Sorry if someone else already asked this but out of the Deadpools in any animated adaption which one is your favorite?

fortnite

okay kidding, i've never played fortnite but i love watching him do the dances. i'll rate all of the animated deadpools i guess. all the animated deadpools that i know of.

hulk vs wolverine

5/10 i think this might be the first animated deadpool i'd ever seen. and he's okay. i don't like nolan north's voice, really. i know a lot of people love him. i think his voice is pretty plain jane and his delivery is nothing special. mind you this wade doesn't have a lot of funny things to say anyway. this whole film is so very mid and so forgettable. marvel animation generally is really mid and forgettable. also he's such a scrawny little twink. i like my wades beefier. 5/10 for being one of the most ordinary, inoffensive, mid portrayals of deadpool ever.

deadpool (the game)

3/10 yeah i don't know, i hate this guy. nolan north yet again but his voice is slightly less plain jane and more rocket raccoon here. not into it. this game sprouted all the worst interpretations of deadpool ever and for that it must pay dearly. three stars because at least his tits are massive. but i hate his stupid pinhead.

ultimate spider-man deadpool

8/10 yeah he's the best one the west has to offer. sorry. he is. his jokes are funny. he is completely insane. he upstaged spider-man in every way a deadpool should. he's a scene-stealer. he has the presence. he has the hips. he has the thighs. he has my heart. one of my first ever exposures to deadpool and the start of a downward spiral for me. he loses two stars because DEAR GOD his voice is UNBEARABLE but. the episode is a masterpiece if you hit the mute button. i wanted to write a fic about him to flesh out his lore because honestly i'm really interested in this specific presumably teenaged wade wilson who was digested by the shield system and came out of it a mercenary. wade i was a teenage mercenary wilson. i want to know everything about him. i'm obsessed with him.

marvel disk wars

10/10 he is SO cute and i think i'd die for him. he lends himself to anime so so well, and the japanese just know how to do deadpool. he's a spider-man fanboy and every bit the attention whore he's meant to be. he knows how to give his chimichangettes what they want. the crotch shots. the unrelenting barrage on the 4th wall. but he also has a good heart at the end of the day. he's everything to me.

marvel's future avengers

10/10 obligatory, for being basically just a continuation of the prior deadpool but in a new series. he is very wife. the art is better but the animation isn't. but he's so. so cute. look at him. look at his gwumpy little faaaace look at HIIIIIM...

the japanese do just know how to do deadpool. his sole motivation in all of these is literally just to hog screentime. that's literally all he's there for. he's just a spotlight hog. all he wants is attention, and for them to make cute anime figures of him. he's the most valid deadpool ever. i think.

#sci speaks #wade wilson #deadpool

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bruh-changbin · 1 year

Text

patience is a virtue

part 3 to invasion of privacy series

pairing: roommate!heeseung x afab reader

genre: smut, angst, minimal fluff (minors dni)

warnings: unprotected sex (be safe), use of the pull out method (do not do this), piv, tit sucking, nipple play, mutual masturbation, some indecent public acts, mentions of vomit, alcolohol consumption, heeseung is so bad at communicating it is actually physically painful, jake is still annoying and hoon is a film bro oh god

word count: 8.6k

a/n: pls don't gut me ik this took forever but i hope its worth it at least lawl enjoy yourselves (but not too much......) also someone needs to take ellipses away from me. also not proofread

read part 1 and part 2 first or else this won't make a ton of sense

[shithead]: you guys wanna come to the cave to play smash? i got some more of that indica and jay finally cleaned his bong 🙄

[grandfather]: come on dude it wasn’t even that dirty

[cullen tease]:..... no comment

[cullen tease]: but yea i’m down

[grandfather]: what about heeseung?

[shithead]: idk… it’s just been radio silence from him for like 3 days

[cullen tease]: yea what happened to him?

[grandfather]: well the last time we talked to him was right before he hung out with y/n sooo

[shithead]: no way

[shithead]: do you think she fucked him so hard he passed out for three whole days?

[cullen tease]: shut the fuck up jaeyun

[shithead]: i’m just saying!!! if i had a hot roommate like that i would gladly let her destroy me

[cullen tease]: that’s because you’re a man whore

[grandfather]: come on guys cut it out, you know how heeseung tends to get

[grandfather]: emotional

[cullen tease]: that’s the understatement of the year

[shithead]: wait what if…….

[shithead]: she killed him

[grandfather]: you’re an idiot

[shithead]: it’s a possibility! what if it’s like a jennifer’s body type situation

[cullen tease]: hold up, you’ve seen jennifer’s body?

[shithead]: duh… it has megan fox in it

[grandfather]: okay let's not stray from the situation at hand

[shithead]: wait hoon why is it so surprising that i’ve seen jennifer’s body?

[cullen tease]: i just didn’t peg you as the type of guy to enjoy films like that

[shithead]: what the fuck does that mean

[grandfather]: guys

[cullen tease]: dude come on, your favourite movie is grown ups 2

[shithead]: what’s wrong with grown ups 2?

[cullen tease]: what’s wrong with it is that it’s trash

[shithead]: are you fr? it is a cinematic masterpiece and i don’t appreciate you acting all high and mighty because you’re a fucking film major who likes boring and sad movies like the godfather or whatever

[grandfather]: can you two shut the fuck up? we need to figure out what’s going on with hee

[adult virgin]: i’m not dead

[cullen tease]: heeseung!

[grandfather]: heeseung!

[shithead]: heeseung! you’re alive!!!

[grandfather]: how you doin’ buddy?

[shithead]: yea what went down with you and sexy roomie at the drive-in? i just know the two of you got up to some freaky shit

[grandfather]: jaeyun i swear to god

[adult virgin]: i don’t wanna talk about it

[cullen tease]: uh oh

[shithead]: oh shit

[grandfather]: oh jeez

[shithead]: jay you question why we call you grandfather when you say shit like ‘oh jeez’

[grandfather]: now’s not the time jake

[cullen tease]: come on heeseung, i’m sure it wasn’t that bad

[adult virgin]: i’m never going on a date again

[shithead]: wait i thought you said it wasn’t a date???

[grandfather]: jake you are one text away from getting kicked out of this group chat

[cullen tease]: i say we kick him out now

[adult virgin]: can you guys please stop blowing up my phone?

[shithead]: no can do my friend

[shithead]: it’s time for an intervention

[adult virgin]: i’m good

[adult virgin]: the last thing i need right now is you guys screaming at me while i’m trying to cope

[shithead]: too late, jay’s already got the car running. i’m bringing weed!

[cullen tease]: i’ll bring the funyuns

[shithead]: see you soon hee!

[adult virgin]: guys fr i just wanna be alone

[adult virgin]: guys?

bang bang bang!!!

heeseung recoils when he hears his friends banging on his front door a mere 11 minutes after they said they were coming; a mere 11 minutes after he explicitly told them not to. he recoils even more when he hears you open the door for them.

“oh, hey y/n…” jay does nothing to try to hide his discontent when he sees you open the door and not his heartbroken friend.

jake, who’s lowkey wanted to bang you since heeseung first moved in with you, pays no mind to his friend's wariness and envelops you in a rib-crushing hug whilst shouting “i haven’t seen you in forever!!!!!”

“hey guys!” you say with a soft smile before patting jake on the shoulder in an attempt to let him know that he’s stealing all of your oxygen, “come in, can i get you anything?”

jay just scoffs, “no thanks y/n, we don’t need anything from you.”

a somewhat puzzled look makes its way onto your face, “ok… well heeseungs in his room if that’s what you’re here for.” you nonchalantly motion down the hall before returning to the kitchen, leaving the three boys alone in the foyer.

“damn jay, you could’ve been a little nicer. we still don’t know what even went down between them, remember?” sunghoon murmurs while leading the way to heeseungs bedroom.

“i guess we’re about to find out,” jay holds his breath before tentatively knocking on heeseungs door before opening it and stepping inside.

when heeseung sees his friends open his door and step into his room, he rolls over so his back is facing them. he thought he was very clear that he is not in the mood to talk. nevertheless, the three of them stride into his room like a boy band and close the door behind them. heeseung hopes they pay no mind to the piles and piles of bunched up kleenex littering his room that are all shrivelled up from his tears.

“heeeyyy buddy!” jay croons to his dishevelled friend as if he’s talking to a puppy or small child.

“damnnnn hee, that must’ve been some good pussy if it’s got you acting like this!!!” jake exclaims, which earns him an elbow in the ribs.

“didn’t i tell you guys not to come? i’m trying to latibulate in peace,” heeseung groans, his voice so monotonous and strained it sounds almost robotic.

“come on, you didn’t seriously think we were gonna listen to you, right?” sunghoon says matter-of-factly, his ebony bangs covering his eyes and making him look eerily mysterious.

heeseung just sighs. he feels his mattress shift underneath him and looks over to see that jay has taken a seat on the edge of his bed, his eyes full of what appears to be mostly concern, some disgust as he swipes a couple of dirty tissues onto the floor (he tries to cover this up with a crooked smile).

“sooo what happened?” jake breaks the silence and asks the question that’s sitting on the tip of everyone’s tongue. heeseung, now in a seated position, places his head between his knees and does his best to swallow his shame before retelling the event that took place a few days prior.

“well, we went to the drive-in…” he starts, voice muffled due to his head hanging low, “and at first it was fine, but then… an… intimate scene came on.”

sunghoon hangs his head at this, seemingly knowing where the story is going.

heeseung can’t bare to look at his friends faces as he proceeds, his cheeks ablaze with embarrassment as he recounts his unintentional virginity reveal, the two of you freaking it whilst surrounded by other movie goers, and the painful, painful silence that enveloped him for the rest of the night.

“and then she just… didn’t say anything. why the fuck didn’t she say anything???!!!!” he whines, his tone a complete 180 from what it was when he first spoke to his friends a short 3 minutes ago.

seemingly at a loss for words, jay just rests his hand on his friends shoulder, offering a gentle pat while sunghoon mumbles a quiet but heart-felt ‘beats me’ from where he’s leaning against heeseungs wall.

“females are so difficult to understand.”

“don’t say females jake, it makes you sound like an incel,” sunghoon suspires, the frayed ends of his hair fluttering in the process, “maybe she just thought you wanted to get it over with? or that you wanted something casual?”

“i don’t do casual.”

“okay, and how the fuck is she supposed to know that?” sunghoon retorts, defending you since you’re unable to defend yourself - jake subtly nods in agreeance.

“i don’t know! she’s way more emotionally intelligent than all of us combined so i thought that maybe she’d… pick up on it or something.” heeseung feels his energy depleting and he longs to simply curl up under his duvet and sleep the rest of the day away - or maybe the whole week actually.

“heeseung,” jay sympathizes, “we know you like y/n… but maybe it's just not gonna work out.”

jake interjects, “yea, and if she can’t see what an absolute package you are right now then maybe she never will! it’s her loss really,” he nods enthusiastically while looking at jay and sunghoon, prompting them to do the same - they do.

heeseung, with swollen cheeks and a bruised heart, can only offer a quiet “thanks guys” while wishing for the tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes to go away. he knows that moving on from you, whilst being extremely difficult, is the best thing to do.

after heeseungs feeble thanks, the room falls silent. so silent only that the hum of the a/c is the only detectable sound - that, and the steady inhales and exhales of the 4 boys trapped in heeseungs stuffy bedroom. someone exhales before the shuffling of feet and the creaking of floorboards can be heard. heeseung hardly has any time to react before something (or someone?) is flying through the air and is on track to land directly on top of him.

“DOG PILE ON HEESEUNG!!!” jake shouts while full-on launching himself onto heeseungs body, effectively squashing him into his mattress. the weight of his friend knocks the wind out of him and heeseung barely manages to croak “jaeyun what the fuc-” before the weight is doubled, then tripled as sunghoon and jay follow suit.

it’s hard to tell whose limbs belong to who as heeseungs friends tussle his hair and squeeze his cheeks (and crush his rib cage, but that’s besides the point) in an attempt to get their glum, heartbroken friend to cheer up. and, for the first time in days, a smile appears on heeseungs face.

order confirmed. you will be updated when your food is en route for delivery.

as if on cue, heeseung’s stomach lets out a cavernous growl. he pats it comfortingly as if to say ‘it’s ok, soon you’ll be filled to the brim with an ice cold baja blast and 2 crunch wrap supremes. just hold on a little longer.’

nothing quite like eating away all of your sorrows.

it’s easy to forget how pivotal a kitchen is in one’s everyday life until it’s stripped away from you like a baby from its mother. ok, maybe not stripped away. more like consciously avoiding it to make sure that you don’t have an awkward run in with your roommate who performed oral sex on you several days ago and is now sending you mixed signals. the thought of having to hold an actual conversation with you makes heeseungs skin crawl.

he’s been successfully avoiding you for 4 days now, ensuring that he only leaves his room when absolutely necessary - and only doing so when he’s positive that you’re in your room or out of the house. before exiting his bedroom he spends minutes with his ear pressed up to his flimsy bedroom door, making sure the coast is clear before making a break for it.

one may think he’s being extra. just talk to her for crying out loud! but heeseung has managed to convince himself that you think he’s bottom of the barrel scum; the last piece of bread that always gets tossed; the mosquito on your wall that you whack with a rolled up newspaper as soon as you see it.

trash!

and so, he spends his days rotting away in his bedroom, his mattress now donning a permanent indent of the shape of his body; his trash can overflowing with wrappers from taco bell and mcdonalds; his laptop struggling to keep up with all of the mind-numbing streaming of shitty television he’s been doing.

one time he gave into his hopeless romantic side and watched the notebook but it made him cry so hard he woke up with a migraine. another time he got an ad for top gun: maverick and he wanted to die. stupid top gun. stupid tom cruise. stupid miles teller with his stupid moustache. now, he sticks to scrolling through tik tok and watching reruns of below deck sailing yacht and survivor.

he can feel his eyes starting to get heavy when a vibration from his phone jolts him back to reality, scrambling to find the device that he so mindlessly tossed underneath his comforter. his fingers finally come in contact with it, and he peers at the lit-up screen.

your food has been delivered. receipt/tip available.

yes! it feels as if his stomach has been quite literally eating itself for the past half hour, so heeseung leaps up at the prospect of soon having food in his belly. in fact he’s so excited at the idea of his taco bell order waiting for him that the thought of doing his ritualistic check to make sure he won’t have a run-in with you completely slips his mind.

so, when he swings open his door and bolts down the hallway, head filled with nothing but thoughts of chowing down on a tortilla filled with meat, lettuce and cheese, his heart practically falls to his stomach when instead he almost literally runs into you. you, holding a glass of water with your eyes wide like a fawn, taking in heeseungs dishevelled appearance after not seeing him for over half a week.

shit.

shitshitshitshitshitshit.

this was not supposed to happen.

“heeseung!” you say with enthusiasm (and a bit of concern).

it is in this very moment that heeseung fully understands what a deer must feel like when falling in front of the headlights of an oncoming vehicle - frozen.

“uh…. heeey y/n.” his throat feels like it’s about to close. is he having an allergic reaction to you?

seeing as plan a (get his food and go back to his room while avoiding you all together) has fallen through, he attempts to resort to plan b: grab taco bell bag and run like hell back to the safety of his bedroom.

unfortunately plan b also falls through, for once he worms himself to the front door and grabs the slightly warm paper bag and drink left on his porch he whips around only to see you standing in front of him, blocking his path to the safe haven that is his musty bedroom, (he’s reminded of admiral ackbar in episode vi of star wars - ‘it’s a trap!!!’).

“wait, can we talk?” your face is one of disquietude, “i feel like you’ve been… avoiding me.”

upon hearing your concerns, heeseung does what he’s best at - playing dumb.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

your face quickly changes, brows furrowed and eyes slightly squinted as if to say ‘are you shitting me?’. in a split second it seems as if you’re able to read heeseung like an open book, much to his dismay, before you open your mouth to speak again.

“did… did what i do at the drive-in make you uncomfortable?”

“no…” more like what you didn’t do - profess your undying love and devotion to him with tears in your eyes while he reassures you that he feels the same way and the two of you ride off into the sunset on a horse and start a new life in venice or kyoto or somewhere romantic and secluded.

“okay, so then why are you acting so weird?”

“i’m… stressed. sooo stressed. classes are killing me and i have a huge paper due soon.” liar. he’s excelling in all of his classes and doesn’t have anything due for another 5 days.

“oh, well what’s it about? maybe i can help you!” you offer while taking a step towards him. usually his heart would be leaping at the prospect of the two of you having some one on one time even if it is for a class, but right now that’s the last thing he needs.

“it’s about….. shakespeare.”

“shakespeare? i thought you were an engineering major-”

“it’s an elective. i’m very interested in classical literature.” no he’s not.

“oh, nice. hey why are you talking so weirdly? you sound like siri when i ask her a question.”

that’s it. he needs to get out of this conversation before he raises any more suspicion.

“i’m way deep into the academic headspace. speaking of,” he motions towards his bedroom door with his index finger, “i need to get back to work.” more like he needs to wallow in his own self-pity.

“wait, can we talk more? i still feel like you’re not telling me something,” you say while looking like a kicked puppy, and heeseung tries to not fall into your glassy, pleading gaze.

“it’s fine y/n, i get it.” he thinks you’re the light of his life and you think of him as your loser roommate who was all whiny about being a virgin so you did what you needed to do to shut him up. case closed.

“get… what?”

heeseung doesn’t respond, doesn’t give you the time of day. he simply exits the kitchen and closes his bedroom door behind him. he spares no final glance behind him because he knows the sight of you standing there with a hurt and perplexed look on your face will have him crawling back to you on his hands and knees.

instead, he shuffles into bed and tries to focus on whatever he was watching on his laptop prior to the most painful conversation he’s ever had in his entire life, his now tepid crunch wrap sitting in his limp grasp.

salty crocodile tears start rolling down his cheeks for the nth time this week.

“i am gonna get sooo many bitches tonight.”

“you shouldn’t call women bitches jake, that’s rude.”

pre-gaming in the cave before going out is a must. the four guys play a couple rounds of pong and flip cup while jay and jake chug putrid pilsner’s and pabst blue ribbons while sunghoon and heeseung opt for a much more tame rum and coke.

tonight he’s being dragged to a place he seldom ventures: a club.

heeseung doesn’t really like clubs.

he prefers bars where he can sit and drink and talk to his friends instead of clubs where he has to (attempt to) dance and drink and shout over the blasting music to communicate with anyone. alas, jake was adamant on going to this one particular place downtown where apparently he got with 3 different girls in one night (everyone knows that’s definitely not true, but they continue to humour him).

furthermore, his friends have decided that the financial blow of cover fees and shots at a club is worth getting heeseung up and out of his frowsty bedroom that has somewhat turned into something you would see on an episode of hoarders, so tonight’s outing will be free (for him at least).

“okay hee,” jake grabs his friend by the shoulders and shakes him aggressively, as if they’re two football players about to head onto the field, “gimme the game plan for tonight broski.”

“i’m gonna forget about y/n, and i’m gonna find a pretty girl,” heeseung says in the most sportsmanlike manner he can conjure up, “and i’m gonna fu…… i’m gonna make love to her.”

jake simply shakes his head in dismay, “no heeseung, you’re gonna fuck her. got it? go ahead, say it.”

“i’m gonna…” his neck feels like it’s flaring up, “i can’t say it, it feels rude and misogynistic.”

“dude, girls like to get fucked. they think it’s hot!!! now say ‘fuck’,” jake attests before staring at heeseung expectantly.

“okay………………. fuck.”

“hell yea bro! fuck!” jay joins in while clapping heeseung on the back in support.

“yea, fuck!!!”

“FUCK!!!!!!” sunghoon joins as well.

“FUUUUUUCK!!!” heeseung screams. the liquor in his bloodstream, while not copious, is making him feel fuzzy.

and finally, jake closes it out with, “LETS GO FUCK SHIT UP BROS!!!!!!” before storming out of the door with sunghoon following suit.

jay swings a beefy arm around heeseungs blocky shoulders and drags him along, the two of them soon catching up to hoon and jake who are whooping and hollering about god knows what. in the back of heeseungs mind he wonders what he’s gotten himself into.

immediately upon arrival heeseung is reminded once again of his detestment for clubs. they’re too loud and ho, and impersonal.

the floors and walls are shaking with some throwback early 2000’s pop song and after about 10 seconds the soles of his shoes are already covered in sticky syrup from spilled drinks. he follows his friends into the sea of people trying to get drunk or trying to get laid or both.

in the midst of the crowd he brushes shoulders with a guy he swears he’s seen before, a tall brute guy with blonde hair tied into a man bun and a red flannel hugging his shoulders (who wears a flannel to a club?), but he can’t quite remember when and where they’ve crossed paths before.

as sunghoon shoulders his way to the bar to order a round of tequila shots, heeseung stays planted to his spot on the floor, his eyes scanning his surroundings and taking everything in to the best of his abilities considering that purple and blue LED lights are painting everyone and everything within the establishment.

his eyes make their way from the bar to the dance floor to a section of stand-up tables, where he finds a pretty girl in leather pants and a cheetah print corset top staring right back at him. when their gaze’s connect she flashes him a small smile, which he returns.

“jake,” heeseung smacks his friend’s shoulder, “that girl won’t stop staring at me.”

“see hee! we told you you’d pull someone.”

he smirks, then panics, “what should i do?”

“what’s going on?” sunghoon turns around with four shooters balanced between his spindly ple fingers, each one filled with a menacing clear liquor that will ultimately decide his fate this evening. you’re not you when you’re sober but you’re you when you’re drunk!

jake grabs a shot greedily, like a leprechaun stumbling upon a pot of gold, “some chick is ogling at hee.”

sunghoon’s lip curls upwards, “lets go dawg!” he cheers while passing heeseung a shot as if it's a reward for receiving attention from a woman.

heeseung stares at the tequila in the glass he’s holding with his thumb and index finger; it stares back at him. in one swift move he downs it, then does the same with jake’s, jay’s, and finally sunghoon’s, who all stare at him in disbelief. he tries his best to not make a sour face, but he can’t hold back the deep cough that leaps out of him as the tequila burns his throat on its way down his esophagus and into his stomach.

“wow, okay.” jay says in astonishment, which prompts him to start laughing; everyone else begins to laugh as well, including heeseung.

“go talk to her shithead!” jake exclaims while shoving heeseung towards the mystery girl and her friends with much more force than necessary, making him stumble over his own feet much like bambi attempting to walk for the first time.

when he’s close enough he flashes her a toothy grin, his eyes trained on hers; her pupils look like deep pools of ink in the scarcity of good lighting. she just looks at him, a pretty smile painted on her face that pushes the apples of her cheeks to the sky.

“hey.”

“hi~”

“i’m heeseung.”

“okay heeseung, wanna dance?”

“uh sure!” he exclaims, albeit maybe a little too much excitement in his inflection.

the cheetah girl doesn’t say anything, just grabs his hand by the wrist (and thank god his wrist because his palms are embarrassingly sweaty) and drags him in the general direction of the dance floor. before he becomes completely swallowed by the mass of swaying bodies, he catches sunghoon and jay giving him a thumbs up from across the room - jake is too busy making out with someone to do the same.

heeseung feels the fabric of his shirt sticking to his chest and lower back as he gets mixed up with the plethora of other sweaty bodies, trying to move in a sensual yet confident way that hopefully impresses the pretty girl he’s praying he’ll go home with. with his nose tucked into the crook of her neck he rocks his body against hers to the beat of the music, his pelvis bumping against her ass methodically.

“you’re so cute!” she squeals at his awkward attempt to grind up on her.

dear god. when oh when will he ever the patronizing, dehumanizing, emasculating label of ‘cute’? cute is what you say when you see a nest of baby bunnies, or an elderly couple on a date. heeseung is a grown man, he should be called handsome, statuesque, sexy even!!!

nevertheless, heeseung attempts to not let cheetah girl’s comment sour his mood. she’ll see how manly he really is, he’ll show her. in fact he’ll show her right now!

in this very moment he discovers why alcohol has been gifted the name of liquid courage since before he can even process what he’s doing he’s pulling cheetah girl out of the stuffy crowd of inebriated club goers, dragging her to an empty bathroom stall, and placing his tequila coated lips on hers.

she immediately reciprocates, because why else would she be giving him bedroom eyes across a crowded club if she didn’t want something along this vein to occur? despite being a virgin (? does getting your dick suck count as a loss of virginity?), he has made out with multiple girls on multiple different occasions prior to this one, so he lets his mouth and tongue and hands act on their own accord.

it feels as if his brain is swimming inside of his skull, making all of his senses blurred and fuzzy like tv static. he feels a pair of teeth sinking into his bottom teeth and he groans, his eyes squeezing shut impossibly tighter and his fingers digging into cheetah girl’s hips. she emits and airy moan in response, allowing heeseung to slot his tongue against hers - he tastes the vodka mixed with cranberry juice she was drinking when he approached her on the inside of her mouth.

the tip of his nose continuously bumps against hers as he sloppy sucks on her tongue and her teeth, his lips soon detaching to make their way across her jaw and down her neck. there he sinks his canines into her skin, causing her to hiss in both pleasure and pain before exhaling blissfully, her hot breath fanning across heeseung face as he reverts to kissing her on the mouth once again.

from the dj booth he hears the intro of a song that has his eyes shooting open - baby one more time by britney spears. the song that you alway play when you’re getting ready to go out, the song he chose to play during the car ride to the drive-in. he feels a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he thinks about the way you touched him that night, the way you wrapped your hand and lips around his cock without a second thought. his jaw slacks and his hands fall to his sides as his brain starts to move at a million miles per hour.

a mouth that’s not yours is pressed against his while a tongue that’s not yours slips inside and traces his teeth. heeseung can hear his pulse in his ears beating faster than the bass that vibrates the floors and the walls and the ceiling of the club that he now so desperately wishes he wasn’t in. a hand that isn’t yours pops the button of his jeans and slips past the waistband of his underwear. all he can think is how this feels so not… right. none of this is right!

without properly thinking he somewhat shoves the pretty but unknown girl off of him, prompting her to shout “what the fuck asshole??!!?” before storming out of the stall and off to find her friends to undoubtedly complain about what a selfish prick he is. but honestly, he doesn’t care. all he can think about is you and your touch and everything you encompass.

with a considerable amount of shoving heeseung makes his way outside, paying no mind to the select people that shoot him dirty looks after getting elbowed in the side. too inebriated to consider ordering an uber or calling a cab, he begins the 20 minute trek back to his apartment where he’s praying that you’re still residing, likely settled in your bed reading a book or watching season 2 of the bear. the cool night air stings his lungs as he trips and stumbles on the concrete with every other step he takes on his way back home, his way back to you.

being outside does absolutely nothing to sober heeseung up (especially considering that he downed 4 tequila shots not so long ago), and when the familiar front door of your shared rental house comes into view he practically runs to it, swinging it open and letting it bang against the wall before calling your name and jogging down the hallway. his shoes clomp against the hardwood floors as he approaches your door, the soft yellow glow emanating from underneath it the only source of light in the dark hallway.

“y/n?” heeseung barges into your bedroom, almost ripping your door off of its hinges in the process. once inside he sees you perched on your bed, your sheets pulled over your bent knees and a book with a splotchy blue cover in your grasp.

“what are you doing?” he questions you breathlessly.

your glance shifts from heeseung to the open book in your hands then back to heeseung, “reading?”

“oh, duh,” he pretends to facepalm while chuckling, your eyes still trained on his with a glint of scepticism. the gravity of his situation starts to dawn on him and he braces himself against your doorframe in an attempt to get the floor to stop spinning.

you furrow your brows and stare at heeseung pointedly, “are you drunk?”

“a little,” he hiccups, “actually a lot, but that’s besides the point.” finally he feels the courage he had 20 minutes ago at the club surge through him once more and he stumbles into your room, stopping at the corner of your bed and gazing down on you like you’re an ant.

“i have to tell you something.”

“okay.”

silence.

“...what do you wanna tell me?”

“oh, right.” come on heeseung, it’s now or never. he decides to take a seat on the edge of your bed so he’s looking directly at you, and he picks at the holes in his jeans as he ponders how to start.

“uhh… i really like the way you fold the dish towels in the kitchen.”

a look of shock makes its way onto your face - you definitely weren’t expecting him to say that of all things. before you can utter a word, a sound even, heeseung starts to ramble.

“and you smell really nice. like, really nice. and i think you’re really pretty, e-even when you’re angry, like when i wake you up to ask for a ride to campus when i’ve missed the bus. and i like how you chew on the inside of your cheek when you’re focused, and how you ruffle my hair when i say something stupid… which is a lot.”

he pauses briefly to catch his breath, then continues on, “and i don’t let anyone eat my lucky charms except for you, n-not even my friends when they spend the night, because i know they remind you of being a kid and that you like to pick out the clover shaped marshmallows. and i like the way you draw smiley faces in the condensation on the mirror in the bathroom after you shower, and the way you exclusively listen to stevie nicks when you’re cleaning, an-”

“heeseung,” you interject, causing him to draw in a shaky inhale, “what are you trying to say?”

“what i’m trying to say is that i lo-” nope!!!!!! waaay too soon. luckily even drunk heeseung can recognize the damage an actual profession of love would cause. thank god he caught himself.

“i really really like you, ok? and i feel like you just see me as a-” here come the waterworks, “as a looooserrrrrrrr,” try as he might, heeseung can’t stop the pathetic, drunken sobs that escape his trembling lips.

“oh god, heeseung-” your feeble voice does little to drown out the wails emanating from the drunken boy perched on the corner of your bed, his hair a mess and his cheeks flushed pink; you’re unsure if it’s from the alcohol or the crying.

half a week of pent up confusion and sadness and heartbreak escapes him in the form of reverberating howls, his shoulders shaking even after you place a comforting hand on his back in an attempt to calm him down.

“and when you did… that at the drive-in, i thought that maybe meant that you liked me too.” he sniffles before wiping his nose with his sleeve; you reach over to your night stand and hand him a tissue.

“oh jesus, i’m so sorry hee i didn’t mean to confuse you i just-” you take a second to collect your thoughts, your thumb still caressing heeseungs backs through his shirt, “the way you were talking just made it seem like you just wanted to get it over with,” your hand doesn’t leave his back, “like, no strings attached, you know?”

“no… not no strings attached. i want strings attached. i want exclusivity. i want you.” his tears roll down to his mouth and he can taste the salt on his tongue.

“heeseung…” you all but whisper, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

he wants to say more, only when he tries to formulate his thoughts into words, he finds himself yaking all over your floor before passing out.

pain.

the first thing heeseung feels when he wakes up is pain.

not mental pain, which is what he’s felt for the past 5 days, but physical pain. an aching headache that shoots up from the base of his skull and wraps around to his forehead and flares at the back of his eyeballs. it’s settled, he is never touching alcohol ever again.

an acidic burn tickles his throat, and soon the memories from last night come flooding back to him. the cheetah girl at the club, the solemn and unsobering walk home, the drunken confession, and lastly, the puking.

he cracks his eyes open and immediately recoils, for the golden glow of the morning sun increases the aching in his head and behind his eyes tenfold. jesus, what time is it? a couple of blinks help his eyes adjust to the light, and he becomes aware of the figure sitting to the right of him. in a split second he soon realizes that he’s in your room, tucked under your sheets, inhaling the scent of your shampoo that’s become permanently woven into your pillows.

oh? oh. oh god. did you two….?

heeseungs restlessness draws your attention, and soon you're gazing down at him with a soft expression that makes heeseung feel all soft like honey.

“hey sleeping beauty.” you tease, your eyes still puffy with traces of sleep and the book you were reading before he oh so rudely interrupted you last night is in your hands again - a well-loved copy of murakami’s kafka on the shore, which you place on your nightstand for the sake of passing heeseung a tall glass of water and an advil. he downs both immediately.

“please tell me that the image i have of myself puking on your floor is something my brain conjured up while i was sleeping and not something that actually happened,” he rasps, throat stinging and nose stuffy.

“hate to break it to ya buddy,” you tsk while nodding sympathetically, “but that actually happened.”

heeseung shoves his head into your pillow, his thumbs pressing against his closed eyelids both in an attempt to relieve the ache and as an act of shame. he groans aloud, “oh god y/n i am so sorry, i-”

“heeseung it’s o-kay,” you punctuate, “shit happens.”

still unable to look at you, heeseung just nods, the friction from your silk pillowcase making a couple strands of his hair stand on end.

“besides, it was mostly clear,” you look off into the distance, “mostly.”

a second of quiet, and then you ask him, “how much of last night do you remember?”

he rolls onto his back, index and middle fingers of his right hand pinching the bridge of his nose, “most of it, it guess. i remember going out with my friends, stumbling back here and… telling you that i like you…”

“actually i believe you said that you really, really like me.” your sleep swollen lips curve into a teasing smirk.

“fuck off,” he jeers while playfully pushing your shoulder.

“woah!!! lee heeseung drops f-bombs now eh?”

he just chuckles, his hands moving to pass through his frazzled hair. as he shifts under your poofy comforter he realizes he’s still donning the clothes he wore last night - spare for his shoes, which he’s assuming you took off of him and likely put them on the shoe rack by the front door.

a silence settles over the two of you, but this time it’s comfortable. it’s not estranged or pointed, but hospitable.

“i didn’t know you felt that way about me.” you state. it’s not a positive or negative statement, simply neutral; an admission.

heeseung doesn’t say anything, just gazes at your side profile and admires the way your eyelashes grace the tops of your cheeks, the way your top lip converges at your cupids bow, the way your cheekbones are dotted with blemishes.

“can i kiss you?” he asks, “please?”

a plea.

and, in your secluded bedroom on this bright saturday morning, you answer him by pressing your lips to his.

it’s strange, since heeseung can’t seem to discern any actual sensations, he just feels incredibly warm. warm and soft, like taffy that’s been left out and has melted in the glow of the sun. his heart is flipping inside of the cage that is his ribs as he pushes his pursed lips against yours in reciprocation.

you detach your lips from his for a second only to reattach them moments later in a deeper, more passionate kiss that heeseung exhales into, the tip of his nose gracing yours as he tilts his head to sink impossibly deeper into you. his curious hands make their way up to the back of your neck where he grabs ahold and pulls you against him so your torso is on top of his own, your heart beating against his.

underneath the confines of your comforter heeseung feels your leg glide against his own, the sheets crinkling and tangling in the process. his mouth continues to dance against yours with his tongue experimentally poking out every so often before he pushes it past your lips and into your hot mouth. a whimper makes its way out of you and heeseung swears that if he were standing his knees surely would’ve given out from underneath him.

“heeseung…” you whine before nipping at his cushiony bottom lip, sucking at it to soothe the sting - and to make heeseung swoon even more. ugh! he just can’t get enough of you and your sickeningly sweet demeanour.

as you continue to kiss and suck at heeseung pouty lips and perfect teeth you become more and more restless, your hands moving to smooth over the expanse of his chest and the tops of his shoulders where they come to rest. the palms of your hands are soft and delicate and they send a shiver down heeseung’s spine as he feels them grace his cloth covered skin that’s slightly damp with sweat.

with (what seems like) some reluctance, you remove your mouth from heeseung’s with a wet smack. when he cracks open his eyes he finds you beholding him wistfully, your pupils dilated and lips swollen and glossy with lip gloss of his own making.

“can you show me how you get yourself off?”

your voice is deep and slow; sultry, like a glass of oxblood coloured cabernet sauvignon. his breath hitches in his throat once he fully registers the request you just made. show you? on his own??? he does his best to swallow his nerves.

“sure,” heeseung agrees bashfully, “if you can do the same.”

“okay.” you smile before tossing the blankets off of both of your hot bodies. a much welcomed gust of cool air causes heeseung to erupt in a fit of goosebumps (although he’s not quite sure if that’s from the change in temperature or his current predicament).

unsure of what to do next, he waits to follow your lead. with hungry eyes he watches you pull of your pyjama bottoms before tossing them in a heap on the floor, leaving you in a pair of plain light blue panties and an oversized band tee. in somewhat of a rush heeseung fumbles with the hardware of his jeans, struggling to pop the button and tug down the copper zipper at the fault of his nerves. eventually he does so successfully, discarding his bottoms before becoming stuck in limbo.

with deft fingers you begin to drag the hem of your shirt upwards, exposing more and more of your torso before stopping once you reach your sternum. the soft underside of your breasts are just barely peeking out from underneath the fabric.

heeseung watches with wide eyes and a painfully hard cock as you slip your hand underneath the waistband of your panties in one swift motion, a motion that he’s sure you’ve done hundreds of times before this. his brain swims as he thinks about all of the times you’ve touched yourself in this very room, in this very bed.

your knuckles strain and push at the fabric of your underwear as you play with yourself, your chest rising and falling steadily but with slightly more erraticism than before. heeseung follows in your footsteps and reaches to the thick elastic waistband of his boxers, hesitating for only a second before pushing the garment down to his hips, allowing his hard cock to slap against his tense stomach. he spits in his palm before wrapping his hand around the base of his shaft, giving it a few tentative strokes and watching the way his stomach spasms.

“i don’t think i said this before,” you purr, “but you have a really nice cock heeseung.”

your admittance has heeseung overheating, his cheeks and chest flushing a pretty shade of pink. his stomach twists and churns and he slowly starts to jerk himself knowing that you’re watching his every move, like a vulture stalking its pretty. to distract himself from his own ministrations heeseung looks at you, his gaze travelling from your hand in your panties to your chest to your face where he finds you staring back at him, causing him to quickly look away out of sheer embarrassment of being caught.

“what do you think about when you touch yourself?”

you. obviously.

but he doesn’t say that.

he just remains quiet, his eyes darting from place to place but of course, no answer does not satiate your appetite for knowledge, so you push further.

“do you think about me?”

yes. obviously.

he nods steadily in response before realizing that that simply isn’t a satisfactory response.

“always.” his voice is small yet unwavering.

you smile at his admittance, eyes hazy with desire and your cheek squished against your pillow due to your head being turned towards him. breathy moans and pleas tumble past your lips as you finger yourself, your hips rolling into the heel of your palm. slick wet sounds can be heard both from you and from heeseung, whose precum is aiding in his ability to pump his dick at an increasing speed. the burning pit in his stomach slowly grows and grows and he moans aloud, jolting slightly when the outside of your thigh brushes against his own.

as he feels himself approaching the cusp of an orgasm, the familiar sensation looming closer and closer like a moth drawn to a flame, your hand grabs his arm prompting him to stop, your middle and ring fingers wet against where they’re wrapped around his forearm.

in the next second you’re sitting up, hands grasping the hem of your shirt once again only to fully remove it this time, exposing your back back and tits to him rendering him speechless. you discard your panties as well, leaving you completely bare as you move to straddle heeseung’s tense thighs. all he does is look at you in astonishment, mouth slightly agape.

without thinking heeseung reaches forward and envelops both of your breasts with his big hands, his palms rubbing against your hardened nipples while his fingers gently dig into the soft flesh.

“your tits are perfect,” he rasps, hand moving in circular motions to massage your chest.

“really?” your eyes light up at the compliment.

he nods, his adams apple bobbing in his throat as he remains enamoured with your figure. your fingers tickle his sides before grasping at his shirt, tugging at it in a way that tells him you want it off; he sits up and removes the garment before you place a palm on his chest and push him back onto your mattress, the springs making a slight squeak at the force. your eyes rake over heeseung’s bare chest as he lays before you, a shaky exhale leaving him every few seconds or so.

“you’re so handsome lee heeseung.” you compliment.

“even when i’m hungover?”

“even when you’re hungover.”

you crawl over his body, just a little bit, so your hips are unbearably close to his aching cock, the tip an enraged red spilling pearly white beads of precum. heeseung tries his best to not shudder when you wrap your hands around his shaft, moving yourself to be perched directly above his dick. you drag his tip through your folds to be a tease, only when the boy beneath you begins to squirm do you line his cock up wit your dripping hole before sinking down on it ever so slowly, gauging heeseungs reaction with scrutiny. he looks quite pretty, with his eyes screwed shut and bottom lip tucked between his teeth, his forehead dotted with beads of sweat. once he’s fully inside of you you remain stagnant, hips flush against his own.

heeseung feels like he’s gone limp, his limbs turned to mush and inoperable. he keeps his eyes tightly shut as he becomes accustomed to the feeling of being inside of you, for he knows if he sees you sitting on top of him he’s going to have heart palpitations.

only once heeseungs face slowly starts to relax, his eyelids slowly fluttering open, do you begin to move, gyrating your pelvis against his at a leisurely pace. heeseung can’t help but whimper when he feels you grinding on top of him, his cock throbbing and sensitive inside the warmth of your pussy.

your hands rest on heeseungs chest to help you stabilize yourself, your nails digging into the soft skin covering his pecs and leaving behind deep red marks. heeseungs hands move to grab at your hips and you arch your back in response, teasingly shoving your tits in his face - he takes this as an invitation and pulls you closer to him so he can wrap hips lips around your left nipple, sucking on it while palming the other.

“oh my-, heeseung,” you moan as heeseung continues to play with your breasts eagerly. in response you increase the pace at which your hips are moving at, grinding against him in a fluid, persistent manner that makes heeseungs vision grow warped fuzzy. once again he feels the slow burn of an orgasm take flight in his stomach, slowly ebbing outwards as you work him towards his climax.

the moans and groans leaving him come out muffled due to his mouth still being wrapped around your breast, only detaching once the need for oxygen becomes stronger and stronger and his heart beats faster and faster. your fingers feel hot against his skin as you fuck him raw, the sensation of your cunt constricting around his cock feeling so other worldly that heeseung believes that you and your pussy and your body the only things tethering to him reality.

his name tumbles past your lips in the form of needy whines as your movements slowly become more and more erratic, your eyes rolled back into your skull as you chase your high. all heeseung can do is lie underneath you, his fingers back on your hips while the tantalizing promise of a mind blowing orgasm renders him almost immobile. sweat rolls off of his brows as he pants and groans, hips feebly bucking upwards in an attempt to make him cum faster.

“i’m so close y/n i-” is all he can manage to whimper to let you know that he’s about to finish, about to erupt into a thousand hot white stars. you moan an ‘i know’ in response before reaching down to play with your clit, your cunt tightening around heeseungs cock with each and every flick of your fingers.

you orgasm with a desperate whine, brows furrowed and eyes shut as you keel over heeseung. your pussy flutters around his cock and you manage to pull yourself off of him right before he cums with a cry of your name, spilling his hot sticky seed all over the expanse of his stomach, which twitches and spasms every so often.

the two of you lay side by side as you wait for your heart rates to lower, for your breathing to steady, for the aching in your lower abdomen to cease. there’s a slight ringing in heeseungs ears which slowly subsides overtime, allowing him to listen to the way your pants morph into heavy breathing. in his peripherals he can see your chest, see the way your eyes are heavy with pleasure. you move your hand just enough so that your knuckles trace across the back of heeseungs hand.

the room comes to a standstill, with the sun peeking through the slats in your shades falling across his tainted stomach that rises and falls with each erratic inhale and exhale he takes. you shift to lie on your side so you’re facing heeseung, allowing your fingertips to dance over his clavicle, his neck, his jawline.

bliss.

euphoria.

a happy ending.

a/n: and to think some of y'all didn't believe that i was gonna give you a happy ending.......... what do you have to say for yourselves now huh? HUH??????? here's you're happy ending i'm gonna go cry now bc i'm weirdly emotionally attached to this series.

patience is a virtue taglist: @hello-stranger24 @jainandan @yohanabanana @iamliacamila @nyanggk @chansmaze @beomgyusonlywife

#enhypen smut #lee heeseung smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen blurbs #enhypen x reader #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung fanfiction #lee heeseung blurbs #lee heeseung imagines #kpop smut

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shuahoonie · 1 year

Text

when you love someone | choi seungcheol

pairing: non-idol!seungcheol (svt) x female!reader

notes: angst, eventual fluff— maybe, exes to friends to lovers (?), slow burn, meddling friends, swearing, alcohol consumption. loosely based on the song 그렇더라고요 (when you love someone) by DAY6

word count: 4.3k

summary: some seek love and have the pleasure of keeping it, some never find it, and some aren't meant to find it. you and cheol are determined to discover whether love still exists beyond your old love letters.

part of the to x, with love mini series

shuahoonie's masterlist | to x, with love masterlist

jun was always curious as to how you've managed to just sit there and laugh at chan’s comment when you're in the same room as seungcheol, let alone show up at seungcheol and jeonghan’s quaint cafe.

he knew better than to pry you for questions, of course, but knowing how deep your relationship ran with cheol, it was astounding to see you light on your feet.

“junnie,” you nudged jun who was sitting right next to you, evidently staring at you. “is there something wrong?” you asked quietly, careful not to attract any attention. most of the attention were on seungkwan and chan anyway as they were busy bantering about a prolonged birthday gift.

jun snapped out of his thoughts and shook his head no, a sheepish smile forming in face. “sorry, i didn’t mean to stare.” he apologized, scratching the back of his head.

“it’s all good,” you laughed softly. “sorry, i must’ve been talking a lot, huh? it’s just—” you sighed “it’s been a while since i saw you guys.”

“no, no,” jun was quick to dispute whatever it is that you were thinking. “it’s nothing, ynnie. don’t worry about it.” he smiled. “it’s just nice having you here.”

“it’s nice being here too,” you said half-heartedly, while stealing a quick glance at cheol, who was already looking at you from across the room.

a couple of days before you showed up at the café, you received a text from soonyoung, asking forcing you to attend this exclusive get-together.

the heads up was nice and it was sweet that they miss you because you miss them too— you were all friends first, of course.

“haohao,” you called your friend who was busy cooking in your kitchen. minghao was the only friend from the group who still hung out with you regularly— mainly because you two don’t live that far from each other.

“yeah?” he called back.

you walked towards the kitchen, leaning against the pillar. “were you ever going to tell me about it?” you pointed out, still looking at the message in your screen.

“tell you what?” hao asked, confused.

“the hang out.”

“what hang out?” hao knew exactly what you were talking about though. he was just trying to be… careful. right, careful.

“c’mon, hao,” you crossed your arms. you weren’t mad though, you knew exactly why they were doing this— why they’re trying so hard. it’s hard enough to get everyone gather at the same day, however, it’s even harder to have your friends— two of which used to date— to be at the same place. “it’s fine, you know.”

“well,” hao turned off the stove, carefully plating your food. “do you wanna go?”

“i mean, it’s been a while since i saw the boys together,” you mumbled, playing with your nails. “and besides, i miss them.”

“them?” hao smirked, as if he knew damn well that you were pertaining to someone else.

“shut up, minghao.” you grumbled, taking a seat at the table, the smell of hao’s delicious masterpiece filling up your nostrils. “thank you for the food.”

hao hummed in response, watching you as you eat your food with a pout, making him smile.

silence enveloped the rest of the meal. it wasn’t until you were washing the dishes when hao suddenly asked “you know, no one really figured out why you two broke up.” you almost dropped the plate you were holding upon hearing the question. “all i remember was cheol wanted to drink to death one day. if it wasn’t for shua and jeonghan that made him pull from his senses, i honestly don’t know what would’ve happened.”

“we were too young. too passionate, too—” you answered, trying to think of an answer that made sense because frankly, you didn’t know why either. “hao, we were each other’s world.” your voice drifts off.

minghao just listened intently to you. he could never really relate to what was said, because what you and cheol had was something different. it was never just young love, it was something more.

“cheollie, what if—” you groaned “what if i just drop out.” you said, closing your laptop in frustration. seungcheol laughed, making you glare at him. “you dare laugh? at my frustration?”

“i’m sorry, babe, but you’re just too cute.” he smiles, pinching your cheeks. “i’m also sorry because you can’t drop out.”

“and why not?” you quirked a brow at him.

“because your dad will have me delivered on a silver platter if he finds out i encouraged his daughter to drop out,” cheol replied making you laugh “and besides, dating a well-known curator is on the list of my life-long dreams.”

you rolled your eyes at the cheesy comment, fighting off a smile. “a list?” you asked, to which cheol nodded. “what else is on that list?”

cheol bit the insides of his cheeks, suddenly feeling flustered.

“wow,” you laughed “choi seungcheol, are you embarrassed?”

“yah! i told you i hate it when you call me that,” seungcheol pouts, crossing his arms.

“you’re being a baby.”

“that’s fine because i am your baby,” he grins, making you snort laughing. one of seungcheol’s dreams was to make you laugh till the rest of your lives. that was enough for cheol.

“ynnie,” chan hands you the third round of shots. “i heard you’re holding another— uh…” chan looked around, trying to remember the word.

“exhibition, chan.” jeonghan finished with a laugh. “you need to slow down, we’re only three rounds in.”

“hehe,” chan giggles “sorry.”

“it’s okay, chan,” you laughed before taking the shot. “but yeah, it’s going to be my first time exhibiting my own work.”

“that’s so cool, ynnie,” seokmin smiles adoringly at you. “we’re so proud of you.”

“thanks, you guys,” you replied shyly. “i— uh, it really means a lot.”

“of course,” jun nudged you playfully “we’re always here to cheer you on, you know.”

a collective mutter of agreements filled the coffee shop during its after-hours— a long string of support followed one after the other. from the group of muttered agreements, one voice seemed to stand out from others. one voice that meant so much to you. one that you longed to hear for so long.

seungcheol. he was looking at you with those adoring eyes, the ones that filled you so much comfort whenever you looked at them. there was a small smile forming in his lips— god, those lips. words cannot describe how much you miss those lips. it hurt that even after 3 years of your break up, you still long for him. but at least he was happy, right?

a couple of days before the planned hangout, the boys were gathered at heaven’s cloud coffee roasters— the coffee shop that seungcheol and jeonghan proudly own.

“so are we all meeting here then?” joshua asked, taking a sip of his iced americano.

“fine by me,” jeonghan shrugged “i just need to put a notice that we’re closing early that day.”

seungcheol hummed in agreement, the voices slowly drowning out. he was busy looking at your instagram art page. again.

whenever there was a fighting itch that he missed you, he would find his way to your instagram account. you still followed each other on your personal accounts, but you weren’t really active there. you had an art account where you post nearly every day. it wasn’t just drawings and paintings that were on that account, you also posted your letters there too. for seungcheol, that account was more personal as it encapsulated everything that was needed to know about you.

upon quietly scrolling through your account, he found a letter that you posted a couple of days ago, one that hit close to home.

“the last time i fell in love— i was twenty. i was probably too young to be thinking about love, but still, it was a force that shaped my entire perception of love.

at twenty-seven, i still have yet to feel it again. and if the multiverse is real, i hope a version of me finds someone who would still move mountains for her— to be loved as much as she loves.

because i learned the hard way that some people are meant to find love, yet they aren’t meant to keep it.”

joshua caught a glimpse of what seungcheol was looking at when he sat next to him. he was one of the few people who knew where cheol’s feelings lied with you. joshua’s one of the few people who also knew about your feelings with cheol, especially involving that art account that you practically dedicated to seungcheol.

joshua was not a betting person, but if he were, he knew that seungcheol had no idea that that art account of yours only existed because of seungcheol.

“are you looking at her account again?” joshua asked cheol quietly while the other guys were talking about what to eat and drink on the upcoming hangout.

“psh, what?” cheol instantly exited the page, putting a false face of appall “of course not.”

joshua rolled his eyes, knowing damn well that his friend was lying straight through his face. “whatever, cheol.”

knowing there’s no point in lying, especially towards joshua, seungcheol lets out a deep sigh. “i miss her, that’s all.”

joshua hummed, choosing to stay quiet. joshua knew about your true feelings for cheol when he, minghao, and seungkwan were in your apartment that one rainy night. you had invited them for dinner and to catch up because you haven’t talked in so long. drinks were involved so one thing led to the other, next thing joshua knew, you were still moping about your break-up with cheol.

“god, i miss yn,” soonyoung groaned out of the blue. soonie’s comment was enough attention for the boys to look at him, some of them with widened eyes.

“what?” soonie asks, almost innocently. “it’s been awhile since we were all hanging out together, i’ve always loved having her around.”

“soonyoung,” jeonghan warns him quietly, practically holding himself back from gesturing to seungcheol.

“cheol, hyung, you’ve moved on right?” soonyoung asks carelessly, making vernon— who was sitting quietly in the corner— practically choke on his drink. “you wouldn’t mind if invite ynnie right?”

jeonghan and joshua both looked at seungcheol the same time, with pairs of eyes full of curiosity, watching what cheol’s about to say.

cheol cleared his throat, “yeah, it’s fine,”

soonyoung grins— a little too mischievous as seungkwan would note. “perfect, i’ll text her now,” soonie says as he tapped furiously on his phone.

it’s not like you and seungcheol have been avoiding each other, that’s not it at all! you two would always see each other at a friend’s birthday or an event where you two have common circles— you two would always smile at each other, say a quick hi, but that’s the extent of it. and even then, you two were always surrounded by other people too.

“yn,” seungcheol practically seethes your name. “look at me.”

you hate it when you two fight, it only morphs you two into monsters.

“seungcheol,” you had to take a deep sigh before saying anything further as you’re trying to calm yourself down. “i’m tired. can we not do this right now?”

“no, yn, because you always do this.” seungcheol was getting frustrated too. he was always patient around you, but he is human after all. life is sometimes, though often, frustrating. “you always avoid the problem, even if it begs to be confronted.”

this got you heated because seungcheol was right, and it annoyed you that he was right. you don’t like confrontations. in fact, you hated them. for the entirety of your relationship, you could only count the number of times you initiated the apology.

“then what do you want me to do, cheol?” you asked, almost in a whisper. you closed your laptop, knowing well enough that you weren’t going to finish the report you needed for your internship.

“talk to me, yn.” cheol practically begged. “what’s going on?”

“i— i’m tired, cheol.” tears formed on the brims of your eyes.

“okay, we can take a break from studying,” cheol nodded, closing his laptop as well. you two had been practically living in the library for the past couple of weeks, trying to finish the your last semester head-strong.

“no, cheol, i meant—“ you couldn’t even bear to finish the sentence and even then, cheol knew what you were trying to say. “there’s never a day that we don’t fight and it’s—“

“frustrating?” seungcheol finishes for you, a small disbelief present in his tone.

“yeah,” you answered throwing your head back, trying not to cry but it doesn’t work. your tears kept betraying you.

he wanted to be mad because how on earth are you able to just throw a 4 year-long relationship with ease? but seungcheol cannot be mad— not at your frustration, not at you. because for this relationship to work, you two need to be invested in it.

it has been suffocating for you, it has been frustrating for cheol.

“okay,” cheol clears his throat, wiping his tears furiously. “let’s take a break then.”

“okay.” you whispered.

you two stayed in the library for another hour, bid each other a quiet goodbye and left on your separate ways— never to speak to each other again.

as the night gets longer, more drinks have been consumed. it was starting to get rowdy too— soonyoung and seokmin being the cause of it all. they kept squeezing out drinking games that was enough to keep everyone feeling buzzed.

you, on the other hand, started to feel like the room was getting stuffy. so you excused yourself for a minute and sat at one of the patio chairs, nursing the alcoholic drink that you were given earlier.

you could hear the laughter emitting inside the café and you couldn’t help but at smile at how some things never really change.

you heard a faint sound of bells from the door, signalling that someone was coming.

“oh, i’m sorry, i didn’t—“ you whipped your head around and saw that cheol was standing there, a drink in his hand too. “i was just hoping to get some fresh air and—“

“cheol, it’s fine,” you reassured him, adding a small smile. “i know how drinking throughout that can be too much for you.” you nodded at your friends inside.

cheol lets out a small laugh, “yeah.” he leaned against the wall, enough to give you two some space from each other. a tiny part of cheol couldn’t help but feel happy that you still know that tidbit about him.

there was a blanket of silence that enveloped the two of you. it wasn’t awkward per se— but this was the first time you two were left alone in a while.

“so how are yo—“ “are you doing ok—“ you both said at the same time, making you laugh.

a soft smile appears on cheol’s face. it’s been a while since cheol saw you laugh— well anything that involved him, really.

“heaven’s cloud, huh?” you started off, admiring the exteriors of the café. “i’m glad you’ve finally reached your dreams, cheol.”

“i did promise you that i’ll run a coffee shop one day,” cheol said with a proud look on his face. heaven’s cloud is seungcheol’s pride and joy. all throughout his university years, he would find himself cooped inside the cafés near the university. it never occurred to him that taking care of people, by providing a warm cup of coffee and a place of comfort, was something he’d be doing.

cheol likes to think that it was you that led him here. he would always accompany you at coffee shops to study, would always buy you coffee and sweets. he did it so much that he would start doing the same thing to the guys. he would often buy them coffee unprompted, would feed them sweets.

they found it odd at first, because seungcheol was not the type to do all of that unless he was asked, but they’ve quickly learned to accept it because they saw how much it meant to cheol.

you were joking when you suggested that cheol should open up a café when he brought at least a dozen iced americanos to you and the rest of the guys one day. cheol remembered how he smirked at you and said, “wanna bet?”

so really, you led cheol here. cheol knew that you would never believe him if he said that, but it’s true. you hold so much influence in his life that it kills him that you’re not actively in his life anymore.

“i’m proud of you, cheol.” you said softly, tucking a stray hair behind your ear— suddenly not knowing what to do. “i hope you never forget that.”

"i know," cheol replied in a whisper. "i'm proud of you too, you know. always.”

"thanks, cheol."

“why do i have to give it to her?” cheol grumbled while he was fixing his hair, checking for any hair that’s out of place.

“you say that and yet you’re acting like this is the first time yn is going to see you,” jeonghan teased with a smirk as he watched seungcheol check his hair every 5 seconds at the reflection of his car window.

joshua and seungkwan laughed quietly at jeonghan’s comment, causing seungcheol to glare at them— which only makes them laugh even more.

seungcheol chose to ignore jeonghan’s sly comment. “where are they anyway?” he asked, checking his phone for the time. 10:07 am. The exhibition has started, cheol thought.

kwannie, cheol, shua, and hannie were waiting outside the gallery for the rest of the guys to arrive. hao was already inside helping you with your exhibit— as cheol assumed— along with vernon, who was kind enough to offer his help.

“jun texted that they had to pick up the cake and that they’ll just meet us inside,” seungkwan said out loud. “apparently, mingyu overslept.”

“that sounds about right,” jihoon commented as he, wonwoo, and soonyoung walked towards where cheol and the rest of the guys were waiting.

“here,” soonyoung handed cheol the bouquet of pink carnations that cheol specifically asked. “since you were so adamant about the kind of flowers and the colour.”

“oh, we’ve already decided that cheol’s going to hand yn the flowers.” shua smirked.

“i’m surprised you actually went,” wonu pointed out, knowing there is still some odd tension between you and cheol.

“uh yeah, she texted me about it.” cheol cleared his throat “she actually invited me here.”

the way cheol said it so casually, the way the words just escaped his mouth like silk— it was enough for the guys to stop in their tracks and look at cheol like he grew two heads.

“no fucking way,” jihoon comments out of astonishment, breaking the ice.

“oh my god, you guys actually came?” you were greeted with a bunch of warm smiles from the boys, each of them giving you a hug. “i thought you guys were busy?”

“are you kidding? we would never miss this for the world,” seungkwan commented as he gave you a tight hug. “besides, that was just soonie hyung’s elaborate plan of surprise.”

“well, consider me surprised.” you laughed as soonie gave you a tight squeeze. “feel free to roam around, there’s refreshments by the right corner.”

you have just hugged every one of them until you reached cheol— who was a sight for sore eyes. after being broken up for about 3 years now, it still baffles you that his presence alone makes your heart flutter.

you don’t even know why you invited him personally— you haven’t talked that much since the hangout at his café. actually, that’s a lie. you knew damn well why you invited him. a part of him lives within you— may it be in your artworks or your writing.

seungcheol was hesitant— he didn’t know whether he should hug you or not. he literally stopped in the middle of his tracks, his arms almost at mid-air. it was painstakingly obvious too— vernon, who was busy ushering people and caught wind of the situation, couldn’t hide his grimace.

you heard seungkwan’s panicked voice, forcing the others to go with him and leave you two alone. they were dying from curiosity, but even the strong-willed jeonghan could not stomach the awkwardness in the air.

as soon as the guys left, cheol had the courage to finally to say something. anything. “yn,” he cleared his throat “these are for you.” cheol said, handing you the bouquet of pink carnations shyly.

“oh, these are gorgeous,” you sighed happily “thank you, cheol.”

“of course, anything for you,” cheol said a little too eagerly. he cleared his throat, trying to mask his excitement. “it’s from all of us, really.”

“oh?” cheol raised his eyebrow at your confused tone. his eyes followed yours and saw that you were reading the card that came with the flowers— which flustered you immediately upon reading the note.

for the entire time that cheol was holding that bouquet of flowers, not once did he notice the card that was practically sticking out like a sore thumb.

“uh— can i read it?” cheol asked, immediately walking closer to you. you were about to pull the card so he can read it on his own but he was already mere inches away from you, peering over your shoulder.

this was the first time in 3 years that you two were this close to each other. his perfume immediately filling your nostrils, taking you back from how your relationship used to be. your heart was practically pounding. it also didn’t help the fact that he was still wearing the same perfume that you got him during your 2nd anniversary.

“yn,

life had so much colour when i looked into your eyes. it’s a strange thing, but that’s just how it is when you love someone.

yours forever, c.”

the typewritten note was staring back at cheol as if it crawled from the box of things he kept in his office and in to the bouquet. seungcheol wasn’t going to deny that he wrote that note to you— because he did. it’s just, the note wasn’t meant to be included in the bouquet.

he wrote that note a year ago— still in the process of trying to move on from your break up, even though it’s been two years. he was so close to mailing you that note along with a birthday gift last year. he only stopped himself because one, that would be weird and two, he would look desperate. cheol knows he is, but he wouldn’t admit that.

the guys like to believe that he never really got over you, which was obvious, because look at what happened. this also begs the question as to who saw the note in his office and who was the culprit to blame.

“cheol—“

“yn, i think we need to talk.”

you two started strolling around the gallery, not knowing where to go or how to start.

you stopped in the farthest corner of the gallery, near the fire exit. far from everyone, you both assumed. “cheol, the note—“

“i didn’t write it,” cheol immediately answers. his comment disappointed you as a part of you still longed for the idea that he still loved you.

cheol saw how your face faltered upon hearing his comment which panicked him. “i mean i did write it but not recently— i wrote it over a year ago. i was hung up on you, i still am i think, i just i don’t even know—“

“cheol, breathe,” you said grabbing his hands, rubbing small circles with your thumb. “it’s okay.”

you led him to one of the benches in the gallery, just so he can collect himself and so that you can calm yourself down as well.

a couple of minutes after cheol had eventually calmed down and has had a few minutes to take a breather, you asked “is everything okay? i’ve never seen you ramble like this.”

“yn,” cheol sighed, embarrassed at his erratic behaviour “i’m sorry.”

“for what?”

“well for rambling, first off,” cheol lets out an embarrassed laugh “but i’m sorry for everything.”

you were confused. “cheol, i don’t think you have anything to apologize for. you didn’t do anything.”

“exactly, i didn’t do anything,” cheol was frustrated. “i should’ve fought for you, for us. i should’ve done something, anything—“

“cheol, i’m so confused.” you were about to cry from frustration “what are you trying to say?”

“yn,” cheol takes a huge breath “why did you invite me here?”

“what do you mean?”

“here, in one of the most important days of your life, in your career.” cheol almost pleads for an answer “why am i here, ynnie?”

“because…”

“because?”

“because you’re important, cheol. you will always be a part of my life. a piece of you lives within my artwork, my writing.” tears were starting to fall from your eyes “you’re in everything that i do, cheol.” you let out a small laugh, slightly embarrassed. cheol started wiping the tears from your face. “you’re here because i want you to be here.”

“what ever happened to us, yn?” cheol asked, looking at you straight in the eyes.

“it wasn’t our time, cheol— i remember us fighting a lot.” you sighed “i loved you, i still do, but we were hurting each other a lot.”

cheol hummed, because he remembered the same thing. he wished it was different, but even he knew that you two would’ve ruined each other.

“do you think it’s our time now?” cheol asked, looking at the artworks on the wall.

“maybe,” you replied softly, a small smile playing on your lips.

BONUS: that's just how it is | seungcheol

for some reason ? it was really hard to write this ? that's why it took me a month to finish this ? i’m sooo sorry 😭

835 notes · View notes

sleepybbie · 1 year

Text

KOI NO YOKAN | nagi x reader

summary: koi no yokan - the sudden knowledge upon meeting someone that the two of you are destined to fall in love. nagi still remembers the day he met you and the day he fell in love with you.

nagi seishiro x fem!reader

notes: from nagi’s pov! h/c - hair color, h/l - hair length, e/c - eye color, f/n - friend’s name <33

a/n: aaahh i love this man sm ! ૮꒰ྀི⊃´ ꒳ `⊂ྀི꒱ა

nagi still remembers the day he first saw you.

it was during one of his football practices at school. his good friend, reo and his other teammates were practicing as usual on the field, the soccer ball being kicked around—same old, same old. it was a hassle to have practices after school when he could just be at home at the moment, play video games all day and have the most relaxing naps alone at his home.

well now that his life had changed after he met the ambitious mikage son, nagi knew he couldn’t go back to that boring lifestyle he used to have anymore.

“nagi over here, over here…!” he hears reo yell from the side. today’s practice was a 5 on 5 match at hakuho high’s soccer club. nagi nonchalantly yet swiftly kicked the ball towards reo without any second thought in his head except of going home early after today’s game. when reo caught the ball, the purple haired boy ran towards the goal, confusing the enemy side with his small dribbling tricks to attempt to distract them, and passed it to a nearby teammate.

nagi almost let out a loud grunt when that same teammate that reo passed to, kicked the ball so high it went out of the field in full speed. “it’s out! someone catch it before it hits somebody!” someone beside reo yelled. reo looked over at nagi and shouted, “nagi quick! get it!”

what a pain…

his legs now running with speed, nagi’s eyes glued to the floating ball failed to notice people standing in his direction. including a group of friends who were now running out of the way. the ball was now heading towards someone..he picked up the pace a little.

“y/n watch out!” a call of somebody’s name echoed into his ears before nagi jumped up high and caught the ball within seconds with his feet. thank goodness he got it just in time, or else it would’ve already hit the person in front of him. the moment he stopped the ball, it was if he managed to stop time, too. nagi’s grey orbs scanning down to see a face just right below him.

a girl

her eyes were looking back at him, filled with surprise and amazement. his white bangs flowed along with the rhythm of the cold wind that hit his face, he could see her properly from his vision. h/c h/l hair, her eyes were a hue of e/c pupils. at that same split second, the earth created a collision between two people for their first meeting, much more different than fate walking pass by—like a painter touching a skin of a canvas for the first time in order to create a masterpiece.

the ball stopped, and nagi swiftly landed on the ground, trying to push himself as much as possible to not hit the girl on his way. kicking the ball back up, nagi kicks the ball back into the field and watches as reo takes it and slammed the ball towards the goal, earning another point for their team. 3-0, it was slightly unfair. there were yells from that same area—saying how that pass was even possible. though, mostly everyone knows hakuho high’s crazy soccer duo.

nagi places both of his hands on his hip, letting out a sigh before he faces the person standing behind him. she’s still there, looking scared of what just happened. “uhmm…” he began, “are you alright?”

she winces. odd..he was at least twice the times taller than her figure. although he knows that there were other girls shorter than her in this school, she was just one of them. “oh…! uhh, yes i’m ok. t-thank you for saving me..” she says, giving nagi a short bow. a shy type of student? she seems to stutter easily upon talking. nagi raises a brow, a little perplexed, “it’s not much of a big deal, anyways…i wouldn’t really call that saving..”

the girl blinks her eyes twice and she chuckles, seeming unbothered of what just happened. she had a nice smile, warm and stitched beautiful across her kind expression. he changed his mind, was this girl the calm type? she’s certainly showing no concern of the trouble his teammate made (and he had to stop it for him). thinking about someone’s facial expression is such a bother, why is he even thinking of it?

“i’m honest. if it weren’t for you i would’ve got hit. so, thank you so much,” she says, quite in a soft tone. maybe she was the soft-hearted type..? she looks studious. she’s probably smart, too. at this point, nagi feels like he’s already judging a person based on their looks, but he couldn’t help it.

“eh..like i said, ‘s not much of a big de—

“y/n! ugh, thank goodness you’re ok!” the sentences were cut off soon when the person who was with her (who is probably her friend) ran straight to her side, concerned expressions on her face as her hands clutch onto her shoulders, shaking them.

“i-i’m fine, f/n..! i didn’t get hit i swear..!”

“i know but still…!” her friend looked over to nagi’s direction, and the snowy haired boy knew he was going to get an earful by this random chick who was defending her best friend. maybe if he just sneaked off, then he’ll be safe..? “hey nagi, could you and your team kindly stop kicking the ball so hard?? you guys could’ve hit someone, y’know?!” she began, and nagi immediately discarded his short plan. yeah, he’s used to this by now.

“oi are you listening?!”

‘ugh, so noisy, what a hassle..and how does this girl even know my name? do i know her?’

“ahh..! f/n! i’m sorry, sorry. about my teammate kicking the ball out of the field,” well about time his savior arrived. nagi watches as reo appeared out from behind and nervously raised both of his hands up as a stop gesture to back the girl named f/n up away from the sleepy genius. f/n scoffs, “reo…hey, it would be appreciated if you tell your team to calm down with the ball or else it would’ve hit y/n right here. if it weren’t for this guy then i’d be seeing her at the infirmary room.”

this girl is so loud, nagi thinks. compared to the girl he just saved from the soccer ball. f/n mentioned her name is…y/n? huh..

“i’m really sorry again. i’ll tell that to them. i’m sorry, too, y/n. i hope it didn’t scare you much.”

“like i said, it’s ok…! you don’t need to apologize, reo. i’m fine, see?”

oh, his friend knows y/n, too.

“reo, you know them?” nagi questions. reo looked over at nagi and raises his brow, looking puzzled. f/n had an offended look over her face while y/n just giggled. did he say anything wrong? he’s sure he asked him right.

“nagi…these two are our classmates..”

nagi blinks. “oh…really?”

“the hell do you mean, really?!” f/n shouts at him, obviously pissed. maybe he should stop sleeping in class all the time…or sneak off during recess to play..? yet again, reo is always finding ways to look for him at break hours.

reo sighs as he rolled his eyes. “calm down…he’s always like this. c’mon nagi, let’s go back to practice. we got another match next week.”

“mm..”

“you better keep your word, reo..! let’s go, y/n,” f/n uttered to the purple haired male, reo waves off as a response while nagi still stood there. f/n calmly took y/n’s hand and walked off the opposite direction, dragging her along.

“ah..! bye nagi…! thank you once again..!” y/n waves to him, with a smile. and then the two friends left.

nagi was a little surprised. it was the first time a girl said goodbye like that to him…exception of his other female relatives and his mom. a classmate of his.

nothing else to say, he raises his hand up, waving back. “bye..?” his voice was soft, only he could hear it, as if there was a lump trapped between his throat.

that was strange

he remembers the first time he had a long chat with you.

it was when reo held a study group for the upcoming exams their school was having. everyone knew how smart the mikage’s son is, so they immediately asked him if he could help them with tutoring. who was he to say no?

however, reo wanted to drag nagi along as well for the group study session. nagi at first, declined; saying it was too much of a bother to even study for an exam (even if it was an upcoming long test) and that he was far too tired to come with them (not to mention a whole group of students he doesn’t know is coming, too). it took the lazy male awhile to just say ‘yes’ to the rich boy after what seemed like an hour of endless pleading for him to tag along. the only reason why nagi decided to, is because reo made a solution of doing the study session at a huge cafe that was nearby an arcade shop.

once the group was ready to stroll, nagi stayed far behind from them as mostly every student talked to reo while walking towards the cafe, he just walked, being occupied by his phone.

“oh! reo, f/n said that they’ll follow by. what cafe are we going to, again? gotta tell her so she’ll know where we’re studying.”

“oh, just the cafe 20 minutes near our school beside the arcade store. tell her and she’ll know.”

oh shit…nagi remembers her. the girl that gave him the stink eye when the soccer ball almost hit…

‘what was her name again…?’ nagi’s thoughts began to sink in wonder. oh right…her name is y/n. it’s been a long time since nagi last saw her. so y/n’s friend was coming by to the study group…great, looks like god wasn’t on his side today. he’s a 100% sure she’ll be irritated if she saw him there at the same table.

when the group entered the cafe, reo easily booked them a large table where all could sit beside one another without any problems. everyone cheered for him. nagi wasn’t able to sit besides reo since it seems like he was seated between two girls who were calling over for his attention, asking how this formula works or how to solve this problem in the most ear screeching voice nagi could ever hear. maths was hell, and reo was a master of all subjects in their class.

it was around 1:58pm when their group studying began. nagi barely paid any attention to what reo was tutoring to them. he’s silently playing on his phone that was well hidden under the desk, while his classmates focused on their books in hand. when he finds reo to be distracted with the tutoring, nagi decided to pretend to excuse himself to go to the bathroom; when he’s really planning to visit the arcade next door instead. the snowy haired male wasn’t interested in the study anyways.

he finds himself going outside the cafe and hurriedly rushed to the arcade door, where at first enter was a glance of neon lights and game-like explosions blasting from the inside. nagi’s eyes sparkled from the sight of one of his favorite games at one of the arcade stalls nearby, he had enough quarters with him, maybe playing a few rounds wouldn’t hurt.

the thing that was a pain, is that there were many players on line. as in many. the game had its reasons of why it was going popular today, and nagi knew that very well.

‘such a hassle…there’s so many people in line…better if i exchange a few quarters first just in case..’ he thoughts to himself as he heads towards to one of the employers in the arcade arena. the aisle was surrounded by a lot of people possibly his age, and some half of them were loving couples who were comfortable enough to flirt with one another in public. displaying affection in areas like this is enough to make nagi sick.

next to him were crane machines (and players throwing slight tantrums when the stuffed animal went back down), ticket counters, and racing car games. his eyes darted everywhere, trying to look for a few exchanges for his whole dollar yen until he spotted a figure in front of one of the crane machines.

h/l h/c hair..a short figure…and the reflection of the glass from the crane game.

oh..!

it was her

her hands were manoeuvring over the crane’s handle, focusing on what stuffed animal she plans to get. however, the stuffed bunny fell back down to where it came from, and he hears y/n groan in dismay. nagi finds himself watching her attempt to get the stuffed bunny for at least two more rounds. although, in those two rounds, the poor girl still wasn’t able to get the stuffed toy she wanted. her pout made her look like a toddler. nagi had no idea how long he was gazing at y/n till he failed to notice she was already turning around and saw him. she jumped in surprise.

“ah..! n-nagi-san..?! is that you??”

“oh…hey,” was all he replied, very casually. y/n’s face shifted into a look of puzzlement, holding her school bag tight in her palms as she tilted her head, “what are you doing here? i thought you were part of reo’s study group..”

“eh..got bored. decided to drop by here instead. what’re you doing here?”

she giggles. “aha, you’re…very blunt and straightforward about it. i’m here because f/n-chan is part of the study group..isn’t reo going to be angry if he finds out you’re here..?”

he shrugs, “don’t know. but i know reo, so i trust he won’t. i think..” he thinks. he’s been playing with the purple haired boy for almost 4 months now, and his talent being used as an instrument for soccer and for his and reo’s dream to bring home the world cup…nagi just wishes he would know how to study expressions more. but now…reo wasn’t with him, instead there’s this girl (who is his classmate at school), looking over at him with a curious stare.

“don’t worry. i’ll talk to him out of this if he did.”

“ah…ok, i see..”

“by the way, are you having trouble getting that plush bunny at the crane machine?”

“eh..?? so you’ve noticed..”

“ ‘ts easy. don’t know why you have such a hard time..”

“i-i’m not an expert..!”

“mm..then, i’ll give it a try..”

“you will..??”

“mm..”

nagi wasn’t quite sure what had gotten into him when he decided to take over the controller of the crane machine, however he did know is that he easily won the bunny plushie for y/n, who gave him the most softest and widest smile he has ever seen. reo had beamed at him like that before, in fact he was the first one who had ever shown nagi appreciation and like towards the boring genius. but, something about how y/n did seemed…a little odd.

“that was amazing..! you did it with no hesitation..!”

“like i said, ‘ts easy..all you have to do is find the right angle and press the button to grab it.”

“how are you able to find the perfect angle so easily though?? nagi-san you must have sharp eyes.”

“you ask a lot of questions..”

“ah! sorry!”

and the next thing he knew, he was sitting next to her at one of the dining tables, licking on an ice cream while y/n continued to talk a lot about her interests. in return, nagi told her about him and reo, and at first y/n mistaken the two of them as a couple due to how close they were. the only reply nagi gave was ‘cringe.’

“i’m not interested in getting into a relationship…sounds like a drag to always have quality time with them just because you like them..”

“though, not quality time is always required in a relationship, nagi-san. there are other languages in love, too…i heard..”

“is that so? well that’s even more of a bother…”

having such a conversation like this with a girl…nagi has no idea what was coming to him.

he didn’t know how long they started talking to one another. all he knew, was that he helped her win a stuffed animal in some boring crane machine, and she followed him when he began to play the game he waited for, and watched him beat every player lined up, then, the two of them went to a dining table at the side and ordered ice cream. however, their convo with one another was cut short when f/n bursted inside the arcade along with reo, and spotted the two of them together eating. reo had this fizzled expression on his look, his face having questions of what the two of them were doing together, while f/n was surprised her best friend was with someone like nagi.

“oh! nagi-san, before we part, do you have line?”

nagi felt his shoulders weigh down a bit. “line id? uhh…yeah.”

“let’s exchange ids…is it ok? i…i wanna keep talking to you.”

head empty, nagi wasn’t sure what to reply for that while her best friend seems to be staring at him intensely.

“mm…sure.”

well, at least it was you who made the first move…nagi thinks to himself.

weird

he will never forget the day…in which the day he fell in love with you.

the news of the blue lock staff members giving the bllk-11 team the order of having a vacation after defeating the u20 team brought excitement over to nagi’s head. he missed his home, ahh he also missed his cactus, he misses his warm bed and…

‘ah…why am i thinking of y/n again..?’

once he got all his stuff back, nagi made the decision of jumping on his mattress and take a nap when he’s back home. he was fetched home by one of the blue lock buses, he bid farewell to the friends he made along the way during the (hellish) soccer project, and by the time he reaches his door, nagi was happy to find choki back all healthy on his window still.

probably ba-ya was the one who returned choki. he did leave it on her hands after all. then again…he remembered what he told reo back during their match alongside isagi and barou. nagi couldn’t help but give out a small sigh once he looked over choki.

‘such a drag…thinking too much is a hassle..’

he left his stuff on the ground before jumping on his bed and bringing out his phone. the weather was nice…comfortable even. the perfect weather where he can do nothing but sleep the entire day away.

if that’s the case…why is he suddenly looking for y/n’s contact number?

when the other line rung, he can hear her picking up the phone, her breath shaky on the side.

“y/n?”

“ah..! nagi-san, sorry if i picked up late!”

“eh..? that was a quick pick up than i expected, y’know..?” she… still sounded the same. during the match with u20, he could actually see her at one of the stalls of the audience along with her friends. he wanted to wave hi, nagi wanted to talk to her even like before after the game. he just didn’t know he only had the courage now to make a call. come to think of it, why did he even call her on the first place?

“ehe…sorry, i was cleaning my room. ah.! also, congrats on your team’s win. i’m so happy for you and reo!”

he frowns. “mm, thanks..”

“how is he by the way? i was texting him after the game but…he’s not responding. is he alright?”

nagi thinks of himself as someone who would just cast everything away aside so that it wouldn’t be a problem for him (or as he’d like to call it, be more of a bother to him). so, he’s so confused on why he’s telling y/n everything of what happened to him at blue lock, what happened between him and reo, and the rush he felt during the progress of becoming the world’s best striker. he was letting all of his feelings out…to nobody but y/n.

y/n listens attentively, humming on every detail he said. giving feedback of what she thinks…comforting him on the other side of the phone.

what nagi didn’t know the most, of why his heart was beating so fast right now.

more…he wanted to talk to her more..

he didn’t even realize it began to rain outside his window. the snowy haired male didn’t realize either he was talking to her for so long. nagi isn’t a chatty person, everyone knows his stoic and unbothered behaviour, however when it came to y/n..he just doesn’t know what’s going on with himself anymore.

nagi feels warm.

“nagi-san…are you ok?” y/n’s voice was soft, like a whisper. she sounded concerned, worried. nagi’s eyes dropped to the cushion of his bed, staring at his socks—feeling the rain patter hard on the window next to him, and his grey eyes painted with a natural dull cover.

“yeah..” is all he replied. “..m just feeling a bit tired. that’s all.”

“i see…i’m glad you called. i was also planning to call you. i just decided to tidy up around first before doing so, yet i didn’t expect you’d call me first..aha..” y/n says, letting out a soft giggle. nagi could hear her adjust her phone, the sound of soft pillows rummaging on the other side. she was probably laying down on her bed right now as it rained.

“you know…after your game against the u-20 team…i wanted to see you.”

just like the moment when reo looked up to him and his boring demeanor, when he first made the scoring goal against the u-20, when he managed to trick rin itoshi back at blue lock…nagi felt like his heart beating ten times faster now. the world pauses for a second, he couldn’t hear the rain outside anymore, only the sound of his heartbeat echoing through. the feeling of warmth that he felt when talking to her…it seemed to be increasing so much he feels the tip of his ears turning red.

this is a new feeling to him. not like any soccer match or anything involved with reo and his other friends, no. all of this fuzzy emotions building up inside of his stomach…all new. there was silence over the phone.

“u-umm..sorry, that was a strange thing to say, isn’t it?”

nagi fixed his posture a little, pulling a pillow close to his chest. “nah…well, maybe a bit. it isn’t much of a bother though.”

badump

“oh really..? well i’m glad then! i thought i might’ve said something awkward…sorry, you were just silent for a moment there i thought you were feeling odd about what i said.”

badump

he hugs the pillow tighter. “no.. ‘s fine..i was just surprised you wanted to talk and see someone like me. you and reo are weird.”

badump

“e-eh? only? i’m really sorry then!”

badump..

“but really though, i really hope you and reo get along again soon. you two are so well known in our school..! popular even, i overhear the girls in the bathroom that you two are amazing that you guys brought a powerhouse school down!”

stupid fucking heart..why do you keep beating so fast? you’re just talking to a girl.

the rain fell a little fainter, although the melodies of his heart didn’t seem to stop whenever y/n continued to talk on the phone. his bangs covered his eyes, only listening to her soothing tone of her sweet voice. she sounded pretty…so fucking pretty.

“hey..” nagi suddenly cuts her off. this strange sensation rubbing through his chest. y/n obliged, and immediately went quiet. “hm?”

“i think i like you.”

maybe he was the strange one after all.

#nagi x reader #seishiro nagi #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro #blue lock #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #lily’s.blog🌸#lily’s.fic🩷

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writeroutoftime · 1 year

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the greatest thing you'll ever learn

pairing: jamie tartt x reader (requested by: anon)

summary: based on the prompt: “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.” -Moulin Rouge

words: 0.6k

a/n: ahhh, I'm in my I love jamie tartt era so this was wonderful to write! though I wasn't completely sure how to incorporate this quote in the story, I hope you enjoy!

oOoOo

The whole day Jamie had you stuck in his head. On the drive to the stadium, during practice, and even now as aimlessly wondered the halls of AFC Richmond. It's not like it was completely out of the norm, you were his best friend after all. In the past, his thoughts revolved around you when he needed to ask you something or when the two of you made plans to spend time together. Nowadays, however, you were all he could think about, just wanting to be near you.

“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.” Jamie heard walking by the staff room, and the words stopped him in his tracks.

“Uh, whatcha say just then, Coach?” he asked, poking his head in the office, head tilted to the side.

Ted looked surprised to see Jamie, but smiled at him nonetheless. “Oh, hi, Jamie. I was just sharing a quote I like from cinematic masterpiece Moulin Rouge with our trusty Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman. The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.” he explained happily, while the other coaches in the office nodded solemnly.

Jamie's eyes widened in realization, but he tried to play it cool and mask his expression. "'Suppose that's pretty profound or what not. 'Ya know, if it applied to you." he remarked.

Roy gave Jamie a knowing look before rolling his eyes. No one else spoke a word, so Jamie nodded his head and backed out of the office with a small wave, leaving the coaches to themselves.

"Oooo, do I feel me a good ol' fashion rom-com confession coming from Jamie real soon." Ted laughed, rubbing his hands together, happy the young footballer was finally gaining some sense when it came to you.

"Come what may." Beard quipped, rewarding with a thumbs up from Ted while Roy just grunted and turned back to his computer.

oOoOo

Later that evening, you and Jamie snuggled up on your couch as you watched whatever tv show you landed on - strictly platonic, of course. But the whole night, Jamie had been rather jumpy and seemed to be lost off in space. You finally nudged him and gave him a questioning look, opening the floor for discussion.

"Did you know that, uh, loving is the greatest gift."

"What?" you giggled, unsure as to what Jamie was trying to say.

He flushed at this mistake and tried again, getting closer to what he was trying to say. "No, uh learning to love and all that. It's great innit?"

This time, you bit back your smile and turned your whole body to face Jamie, gently playing with his hands. "What is it that you are trying to say, Jamie?"

Sighing, Jamie took a deep breath and finally spoke in his own words. "I'm trying to tell you that I like you, y/n. No, more than that. I love you." he confessed, sneaking a glance at you. "And I finally realized that being with you all this time as taught me what it's like to love someone. To put someone first and want to be with them all the time." he finished, fighting the urge to pull away from you and run from his feelings.

Before he could do that though, he felt your lips press against his own in a soft, sweet kiss. It was over before it really started, but Jamie had the dopiest grin on his face as he pulled back. You bit your lip playful and leaned into him even more. "I love you too, Jamie. I can't imagine being with anyone else." you promised, intertwining your fingers and sighing in content.

---

The pieces finally came together a few days later when you came with Jamie to practice holding hands, and Ted couldn't help himself but humming 'Come What May' from Moulin Rouge. You chuckled, finally realizing what Jamie meant, and pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek. Loving Jamie really was the greatest thing.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tart imagine #ted lasso x reader #rita writes

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srbachchan · 4 months

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DAY 5946

Jalsa, Mumbai May 29/30, 2024 Wed/Thu 1:53 AM

🪔 ,

May 30 .. birthday greetings to Ef Mahmud Chowdhury from London 🇬🇧 .. and Ef Heena Bhambhani .. 🙏🏻🚩❤️

work done for the cause of the general .. for the hopeful understanding of why it is being done .. of the desire to be assured that it may make some sense in the execution of some of the pointers spelt out ..

and then some more .. more ideas that have not been covered and not been drawn in the creative ..

I work for the campaign on Road Safety .. to be able to personally share some of my experiences on how this should be designed and brought to the people in general that have the right and privilege to use roadways , vehicles and the discipline and understanding that road safety in its execution may bring about a better discipline ..

It can never be a statement .. it must contain the psychological temperament of the viewer and the listener .. when you command for understanding it is often taken in the wrong spirit .. a lot needs to be put into the reason for the Campaign and the essential pointers that all motorists and pedestrians must believe and understand for a better temperament and safety on our roads ..

it shall be a long drawn battle .. but like all else, when the cause is understandable .. when the cause is right , then all else falls into place ..

It needs a continuous rendering ..

Talking about it in a formality and then forgetting it as 'job done' is the worst status of its bearing .. you have to persist , persevere , and determine a will that eventually shall work for the benefit of the reason it was done ..

So yes .. I commit myself to the fruition of the campaign .. and shall persist to the best for its victory ..

hand on heart to set the nature for the purity of the mission ..

salutations for them that support and volunteer to assist in the need ..

.. and have the great pleasure of my cute sweet colleague in front of the camera .. tresses and all .. 🤣

yes the moments in pictures are repeated .. for little girls be the sweetest of all ..

and the thoughts go back to that masterpiece of a film GIGI .. and the song

'Thank Heaven for little girls'

the song sung in its most inimitable rendition, by the great Maurice Chevalier .. and starring the most handsome man of the times Louis Jourdan !!

Ah .. those were the days my friends .. sadly lost in the speedometer of modernity and time ..

and my gratitude to the enviable Avinash Gowarikar for his photographic senses and the ability to capture you and make you look grand .. despite the flaws of age !!

I leave my liege

liege

"Since modern populations often ignore aristocracy (except in the case of tabloid coverage), many words once used for royalty are now unusual and obscure. Such is the case with liege. If you refer to someone as "my liege" you are probably playing a game.

Ah, the Medieval era, where we find the word liege as we know it, a term used by underlings for the lord of their land. The word was probably of Germanic origin, derived from the Medieval Latin laeticus. In an interesting etymological twist, the word at one time meant a leader of a band of free men — pretty much the opposite of its eventual meaning as a feudal lord. The word is not used much today, except in jest (see Python, Monty)."

Amitabh Bachchan

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aglaias-blog · 10 months

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"Kindred Spirits" Chapt. 1

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Author's note: This is going to be a series, with a bit of Aemond's POV in the next chapter :) Feedback is always welcome and appreciated! <3

TW: afab!reader, soulmate AU, Aemond not letting his walls down/being an arrogant dick, religious guilt/imagery and corruption kink in later chapters, no smut in this chapter (there will be some in later chapters though ;)), being kinda tricked into a betrothal?

Summary: Being a highborn lady, a love match is out of the question for you, much less a match with your soulmate. You're not even told about the intricacies of what meeting your soulmate entails. When you are tricked into a betrothal to Aemond Targaryen by your parents, you don't know how to handle things. The Prince's cold demeanor is off-putting, but he is also the only one who is willing to help you, the only one you can depend on. Just how is all this going to play out?

"Kindred Spirits" Masterlist

The journey to the Red Keep had been sold to you as a diplomatic trip that your father had to make, and you knew that there was something suspect about it as soon as he invited you to come along. „I know how much you love travelling“, he said, „The Red Keep is a masterpiece of architecture“, he said! Thinking back, it took everything you had in you to not laugh out loud as you hastily made your way through the labyrinth of corridors that was the Red Keep. Enraged, that you fell for this scheme so easily.

Obviously you should have been more skeptical, when your father tried to lure you on this journey with all kinds of promises. But then again, you couldn’t have avoided this forever. „This“ meaning marriage. Marriage to a certain prince whom you absolutely did not want to see at the moment.

It was clear from the moment you were born that your marriage would be arranged to some house or another – for diplomatic reasons of course. Loyal allies were hard to come by, apparently. You never expected though that your parents would think it necessary to come up with some kind of ruse in order to marry you off.Granted, you had always been the stubborn one in your group of siblings, however you also had a sense of duty that was instilled in you since you were in diapers.

It was always obvious to you that one day you would have to marry a man you had never seen before in your life, in order to strengthen the ties between his house and yours – or rather your father’s. The soulmate bond was completely ignored in your circles. A marriage that wouldn’t benefit your house was unthinkable, and absolutely no thought was wasted on marrying someone who wasn’t highborn. So, you came to terms with the fact that you would never find your soulmate – marriage to someone else than your soulmate wasn’t something pleasant to think about, but it was presented to you as inevitable. Your parents weren’t soulmates, and still loved each other, which in itself was already rare among nobility. You didn’t even know what would happen if you met your soulmate – your Septa never taught you anything about it, as not to give you any improper ideas. Though you would have liked a bit of an early warning about when you would be married.

Your delegation had arrived in the afternoon, and while you had thought that you would be deathly tired, you were absolutely buzzing now. Trying to get a good look at the Red Keep and King’s Landing, you stuck your head through the window of your palanquin. You were struck by the different smells, the people wearing fabrics and clothes you had never seen before, the merchants speaking in a dialect you didn’t recognize, even the light was different here - you couldn’t soak it all in at once, and when you had arrived at the Red Keep, your head was buzzing from all the sensory overload.

As soon as you had settled in your rooms, your father had come to get you introduced to the Queen, as the King was "otherwise occupied", and your presentation to him would be done later.

What you thought was your introduction to the Queen, became much more alarming when you realized that one of the Princes was there, and Queen Alicent’s smile was much too joyful for a simple presentation of a lord’s daughter. After a quick welcome to your father, and a quick introduction to her son who turned out to be Prince Aemond, the second-born son, she immediately turned to you. Her warm words in regard to your arrival were unusual, she was speaking to you as if she already knew you well, like a good friend. And when you were moving into a deep curtsey, she quickly stepped forward, taking your hands in hers to stop you. You shot your father a confused glance when she cupped your cheeks, the excitement in her eyes only adding to your bewilderment. She seemed to notice that you had not reciprocated the delight on her face, and hesitantly took a step back, awkwardly clearing her throat.

Looking for an explanation you turned to your father. Someone would have to say the things out loud that were hanging heavily in the tension of the room. You almost didn’t quite catch what your father was murmuring under his breath, but when the most important part of it sunk in, you only heard the rest as if through cotton wads.

„You are to marry Prince Aemond“

Confused, your gaze fell on the Prince, now taking a closer look at him, and he returned it with a look of defiance on his face, his arms crossed. He was the picture of aloofness and arrogance, if only he wasn’t picking at his thumb with his fingers beneath his elbow. You didn’t notice it though, too occupied with handling the news at hand.

Everything fell into place then and there. The „maybe you’ll meet someone special“, said with a playful wink, but you thought nothing of it; your Septa focusing on „wifely duties and virtues“ during your lessons before your departure, and you hadn’t noticed the sudden change in your curriculum; the joyful glint in your mother's eyes as she was picking out the dresses for your journey herself, while you were too busy daydreaming about the trip to a foreign part of Westeros.

„W-what?“, you asked tentatively, refusing to understand, hoping that you were wrong. Pleadingly, you turned to your father again, „Why didn’t you - “ But he interrupted you quickly, hoping to make an end to this scene as soon as possible.

Turning his back to the Queen and Prince he tried to shush you.

„This is most improper“, he murmured, hoping the Queen and the Prince wouldn’t be able to hear what he was saying. He shot them a quick smile over his shoulder before continuing his effort in a hushed voice, „you knew you would have to marry one day, this betrothal is a done deal - you’ll be happy here.“

Suddenly, your dress felt like your maid had laced you up too tightly. It was positively stifling in here! You tried to focus on your breathing, the panic visible in your eyes. Nevertheless, you were aware of your surroundings and the inquisitive gazes of the Queen and Prince on your back.

„Right!“, you said, turning around sharply with a reassuring smile on your face. It wouldn’t do you any good to continue this awkward display of miscommunication in front of royal company. You would have enough time to think of a solution to this situation as soon as you got out of here and in the solitude of your chambers.

„It is an honour to be welcomed by you so warmly, Your Grace“, you said, curtseying deeply. Worried that your mask of calmness might slip, you bowed your head low.

„I’m overjoyed to make your acquaintance“, you continued, hoping that she wouldn’t be offended by your previous display of lacking knowledge of your betrothal.

You quietly thanked the Seven when she took a step towards you, again taking your hands in hers. „As am I“, she said, smiling warmly. You couldn’t quite tell if it was an honest smile, or just pure politeness to put both you and your father at ease.

„Lord Barryn, I take it the crossing wasn’t as calm as I had hoped?“, she turned to your father, giving him a conspiratorial look. „You must tell me more about your journey here while I show you the gardens, the blood-blooms are so beautiful this time of year!“, she beamed, while gesturing to the door.

How discreet, you thought to yourself saracastically. Your father heartily agreed with the Queen, and you only noticed that you had been staring at the floor during the whole of their conversation, when the door fell shut behind him. Your first thought was that it might be improper to leave a young man and woman unchaperoned in a chamber like this, but then you remembered that you were already betrothed. You could only chuckle humourlessly at the thought.

„I take it you knew, my Lord?“, you said into the air, jutting out your chin. Attack was the best defence, after all. The Prince hadn’t moved at all during everything that had unfolded, still standing stiff as a board with his arms crossed.

„I did“, he said coolly. Marvelous, you thought, he seemed to be a great conversationalist.

The prolongated pause in your conversation, if you could even call it that, made him move his hands behind his back awkwardly; if you refused to say anymore then he had to, this was turning embarassing rather quickly.

„I was told about your family background, the house Barryn, your faith, your personal interests, your talents -“

„Pray tell, what don’t you know about me?“, you interrupted him suddenly, throwing manners to the wind. Overcome by the embarrassment that he knew everything there was to know about you, while you – well, you didn’t know anymore about him than what was presented to you right now. He was handsome, you had to admit. His eyepatch intrigued you, you wouldn’t ask him about it now, though. But there was some kind of cruel beauty about him, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, he seemed… cold in a way.

His silence was response enough to your question. The truth was that he was even shown portraits of you. Being told so much about you, he felt like he knew you, although he had never seen you in person before. He almost felt something akin to compassion when he saw your discomfort about this mess, so he kept quiet as to not embarrass you further.

„Right,“ piqued, you smoothed over your skirts, „I believe this matter to be settled then. Please excuse me, my Lord, I’m excruciatingly tired from the journey.“ He didn’t seem to have expected you to leave so soon, a look of surprise on his usually arrogant face.

You forced a smile unto your face before curtseying slightly and striding towards the door and opening it. From the side you saw him reach out to you, and your thin string of patience snapped.

„Don’t! Touch me“, you hissed, shooting the Prince a sharp glance over your shoulder, before quickly stepping out the door. You wondered where he got the impertinence from to think that he could touch you, you barely knew each other! He stopped in his tracks, stubbornly calling out your name.

Swiftly, you turned around, trying to speak calmly, as not to reveal your panicked state. „You may not call me by my given name, my Lord. I’m still Lady Barryn to you!“

Then, inelegantly grabbing your skirts, you made your way to your chamber, leaving Prince Aemond standing in the door.

You were pacing in your lavishly decorated room, the thoughts in your head running berserk. You wondered whether every room in the Keep looked like this or if they made a special effort for the bride of the Prince. The bride. You were a bride! The thought made you slump down to the ground. Why did your parents think that they had to keep their plans from you? You had been stubborn sometimes, yes, but never that much that it should make them think to hide your own betrothal from you!

You would have thought that they would prepare you more properly – beginning with telling you about your future husband, like Prince Aemond was told about you.

Prince Aemond - why would he speak to you using your first name? You thought that he would have had a good education, manners included. Why would he think that a mere introduction would be enough to touch you, to leave away all titles when speaking to you?

And if he knew about the betrothal, who else knew? Did his siblings know? Did the court know? The servants most certainly treated you like they knew. If they did, you would have to play along with everything, making it seem like you also knew about the betrothal beforehand. If you didn’t, you would make yourself vulnerable to gossip, or worse, other schemes and intrigues. You knew enough about people at court to realize that most of them were shrewd and would take advantage of you if you let them. You would only be another pawn to them - it was like that at home, and you were sure that it would be no different here. Just another sheep surrounded by wolves.

A look outside the window told you that you only had a few hours left, before you would be called to supper with the family. You hadn't even taken the time to admire the view from the large window, too occupied with your own thoughts. Your maid had told you that it would be an important event, celebrating your arrival. Of course at the time you had wondered why they would make such a big deal of it, well, now you knew. Slowly, you mustered up the energy to drag yourself to the bed and threw yourself on it. A myriad of thoughts was racing in your head – you couldn’t concentrate on one, much less find a solution to all this.

Prayer had always guided and helped you, but you had never been in a situation as serious and hopeless as this. Still, you prayed - rambling to the Mother about all your worries, telling the Maiden about your future marriage, hoping to at least get along with your husband, asking the Crone for guidance in this chaos where you couldn’t see what was coming, and most importantly imploring the Warrior to give you courage and strength, as you were truly preparing for battle.

You weren’t against a marriage as such – you trusted in the Mother, and your parents to find you a good match, even if an alliance was the top priority. And an alliance with the House Targaryen would be a great succes, indeed. You felt most uneasy about the fact that everyone was so informal with you, treating you like a family friend, althought they had never met you before. You were thrust into an environment where you knew nobody, yet everybody seemed to know you – most of all your betrothed.

The servants found you asleep in your room, a copy of The Seven-Pointed Star by your side. You had been so lost in contemplation, but at the same time so fatigued from the events of the day that you had drifted off into a restless, fidgety sleep. Startled, you awoke when you heard the servants bustling in your room to light the candles and stoke the fire. You hadn’t even noticed how dark it had become outside. Then your maid came in with your dress for the dinner and put it on the bed. Right. Dinner with the whole family, and the King, and the Prince, and some members of court – your first introduction as the bride of the second-born prince. The pressure to make a good impression was immense.

When you saw the dress that your maid carried, you thought back to your mother. She had picked the dress herself, specially for this occasion – and hadn’t bothered to tell you why. While you felt a pang of resentment at the thought of her, you also knew that this situation couldn’t be helped, you had to marry sooner or later, you just wished they had told you about it earlier. Well, at least your mother had good taste. You hoped that the long sleeves would protect you a little against the humid cold that seemed to always creep into the walls of the Keep and, of course, choosing the Targaryen colours was a clever move. The rich blood red colour of the dress stood out in stark contrast against the white bed linen. You knew that the dress fit you perfectly, of course, your mother had made sure of it personally.

The change of dress and hairdressing was an automatic process for you. You only noticed that it was over, when you saw your maid smiling reassuringly at you in the mirror that you sat in front of.

„Thank you, Alanna“, you said, returning her smile as you didn’t want to worry her. You quickly got up from the chair, and smoothed out your dress nervously before taking a few steps to the door. Taking a deep breath, you paused, trying to gather all the courage you had, and then determinedly turned the door knob.

The leather-clad chest you met with was not what you expected when you resolutely stepped over the threshold.

„Ow! What in the Seven- ?“, you started, pressing your hand to your face where a metal clasp had scratched your cheek, feeling two warm hands holding you by your shoulders to steady you.

„My apologies, Lady Barryn!“, came the immediate answer from Prince Aemond. He almost sounded worried.

Had he been waiting in front of your chamber?

Instinctively, he bent forward, trying to inspect your cheek, but you quickly turned your head to the side. Realizing what he was doing, he lowered his gaze; yet the heat of embarrassment rising to his face went unnoticed by you.

Awkwardly wriggling out of his grasp, you asked the first question that was on your mind.

„My Lord, what are you doing here?“ You sounded more rude than you intended. Prince Aemond’s puzzled look only added to your discomfort, as if to ask if you really thought that he couldn’t go anywhere he liked in his home. Though, he caught himself quickly.

„I was waiting for you, dinner is to begin soon“, he said matter-of-factly, the aloof expression back on his face. You looked at him questioningly, this wasn’t explanation enough.

„I thought it to be a good idea to go in together…“, he tried to make you understand. „Seeing as we are – well, this is the first time we will be seen together.“

Oh right, making a good first impression. You were almost grateful to him that he gave you this opportunity. Presenting a united front would provide less target surface to the rest of court. Surely, entering the hall together would be better, than hesitantly going in all by yourself. This still didn’t mean that it changed how you felt towards him, though. You were still peeved that he acted like he knew you, he didn’t know anything about you, and, even worse, you knew nothing about him!

„Alright, we shall go then“, you agreed and turned to the left, keeping your chin up high, leaving Prince Aemond standing behind you.

„Lady Barryn“, he called out lazily, „the hall is in the other direction!“ He wished he didn’t have to add to your mortification, he truly did, everything he had done today only seemed to further your discomfort. But he couldn’t help the smirk that snuck its way onto his face, when he saw you turn around, face red with embarrassment, and scurry past him, a flurry of skirts.

You slowed your steps when the doors of the dining hall came into view. Prince Aemond caught up to you quickly, looking like the picture of relaxation and self-confidence. You came to a halt a few paces in front of the imposing doors.

„You might want to take my hand“, he proposed bluntly, looking straight ahead.

„I shall do no such thing“, came your immediate defiant response.

„Look“, he said sharply, turning towards you. Shooting a quick appraising glance to the guards at the doors, he lowered his voice, so only you could hear. „I know that you are not simple-minded, I saw how quickly you caught yourself in front of my mother, and I know that you know that this first impression is crucial.“ He was so close to you now. In an effort to let only you hear his words, he had bent forward, to match your height. Tentatively, you looked up at him, daring to actually take a closer look at his face now. Your gaze shifted from his eye, down over his straight nose, and getting stuck on his mouth, that was speaking words that you weren’t hearing anymore.

„...and you might also like to call me by my given name, as will I, this will give an impression of us being much closer than we actually are“, he finished nonchalantly, awaiting your response. Apparently, he had invested much thought into his strategy of appearing united. Or at least not hostile towards each other.

His usual smirk came back on his face, when he noticed your spell-bound expression and lack of reaction to his words.

„Of course“, you were quick to murmur, trying to shake the dizziness that had taken you over momentarily.

„Alright then“, he turned to the closed doors determinedly, offering you his hand.

„Absolutely not“, you said, taking his arm instead, putting your hand around it gently. You swore you could see him roll his eye from the corner of your eye.

The dinner had gone as smoothly as you had hoped. As daunting as it was, you felt like you had navigated the situation quite well. Now in bed, you let everything pass through your head again. The presentation to the King had gone well, although in his weakened state, they had only told him the necessary news. He had seemed happy enough for the two of you. Aemond’s siblings – hah, Aemond, you were amazed how quickly you got used to saying only his name, leaving away his title. Well, Aemond’s siblings knew that this wasn’t a love match, however you didn’t think that they saw under the cover their brother and you had come up with. You especially liked his sister Helaena, she seemed very sweet, and you thought that you two might make good friends, over time.

The King’s Hand was there, as well as other people from court. You had tried to make enough polite conversation to not seem suspicious, but not too much as to not let them too close to you, close enough to see that Aemond and you were pretending.

Queen Alicent and your father had seemed honestly pleased seeing you and Aemond „get along“. All in all, you thought that you had put on a good display of affability.

Still, you felt unease at the thought that you couldn’t get through to Aemond. He seemed pleasant enough, but you felt a subliminal trace of menace about him. But surely, you were imagining things. He seemed intent on making the both of you invincible to the sharp-tongued plotting courtiers.

He was the only one who had been willing to help you today.

Relieved, that at least today was dealt with, you nestled into the plush pillows, falling into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.

Chapter Two

#aggiewrites #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd #game of thrones #house of the dragon #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond #aemond x reader #aemond #soulmate au #aemond one eye #hotd aemond

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