#LIKE SOMETIMES he says sweet and charming things like that and then i remember. these exist

[tenshindon]

Can you remind me what the weird sex interview with Toriyama was about

i was driving myself fucking mad trying to find this interview because i KNEW it existed i just couldnt find it immediately but here you go x

which is an insane thing to say because a few questions beforehand he said this:

#snap chats #if this is the one youre talking about anyway #reading these is so insane because toriyama did end up having a daughter #which- admittedly- lead to one of my favorite About The Author segments #where he was talking about how he wanted to be a 'strict' father but ended up just doting on his kids #and asked the very good question 'whats wrong with doting on your kids' #LIKE SOMETIMES he says sweet and charming things like that and then i remember. these exist #forgetting the part A Part Of This Interview Too where he said if he could cheat on his wife without being caught he would #we all know how i feel about cheating so ...... #but yeah there you go. rip toriyama i aint tryna write a hit piece i just like remembering these wack ass things you said 💀💀

[rowarn]

okay i'm back to expand on toxic situationship simon vs smitten golden retriever könig fighting for ur attention!!!

when simon first met you, he had no intention of interacting with you let alone "dating" you. but it just kind of....happened. you had a way of worming your way into his thoughts and his life.

the problem was that he was not build for a relationship. he had problems. a lot of them. he wasn't the type to work on himself, he was the type to find distractions to cope with the mess that was in his head at all times.

the closer you tried to get to him, the further he pulled away. but then when you backed off, he remembered he needed you as a distraction. so he'd rein you back in only for the cycle to continue.

he ignored how much it hurt you, how sometimes your eyes would swim with tears when he gave you the cold shoulder and told you to leave him alone. it wasn't like you understood what was going on — simon refused to open up and tell you that he was just...fucking messy in the head. instead, he just let you think he was some sleazy douchebag who used you for a quick fuck only to toss to the curb when you annoyed him.

part of him wondered (but didn't care bc it benefited him) why you kept coming back after how much he hurt your feelings. but when he wasn't being an intentional jackass to get you to leave him alone for a week or two, he was a great guy. a gentleman. he spoke to you with a soft but not condescending tone and was patient even when you asked stupid questions. when he had you as his distraction, he enjoyed your company and you enjoyed his — only for him to turn around and spew vitriol out of left field.

it was during one of the times he had chased you off that you met könig. on an elevator of all things. the entire mechanical box shuddered with his weight and you were downright shocked as the hulking mass of him ducked to step in.

when you asked what floor, he spoke with a quiet, almost nervous tone to tell you. as you rode the elevator down, you couldn't help but notice how he sort of shrunk in on himself as if he was trying to take up as little space as possible — as if that was even possible. he was massive. he avoided your gaze in a way that was shy instead of suspicious.

it was kind of...cute.

when you both got off the elevator, the lobby, you took a deep breath and stopped him, asking as confidently as you could if you could have his number. his eyes had widened but he surprisingly didn't say no — jackpot!

tho you couldn't see all of his face — the bottom half of it covered by a mask and his large hood concealing his hair, you felt a bit of an attraction to him.

as you walked out, hastily typing his number into your phone as you parted ways, you realized you may have a thing for masked man since this man — könig, he had said with an accent, and the ass that was simon both wore masks.

in between the time of The Simon Cycle, you went on a couple dates with könig. he was charming and sweet, if not a little shy. he was clumsy and almost always bumped his head on doorways before shamefully rubbing the spot he bumped with a look of embarrassment in his eyes.

he was excitable and energetic. he loved animals and always pointed out whatever animals he saw while walking with you — people walking dogs, cats in windows, ducks floating on ponds.

the more time you spent with him, the more you forgot about simon.

until his name popped up on your phone one evening when you were spending an evening in with könig. it was nothing crazy, he wanted to watch his favorite horror movie with you (an ancient black and white).

könig caught sight of your frown as your phone rang, catching sight of the name 'simon' with a blank picture.

"who is this?" he had asked, tho it wasn't out of jealousy, just pure concern and interest.

you let out a sigh, "i dated him....sort of...? not really..." you had responded, earning a confused look from him.

you explained everything to him, from meeting simon all the through his on and off behavior. by the end könig looked upset on your behalf, shaking his head.

"if he cannot decide if he wants you, then he should leave you alone," he said softly, smiling under his mask with a crinkle of his eyes, "that way someone who knows that they want you can move in!"

that was one thing you liked about könig, he was actually open to communicate his thoughts and feelings with you. he told you were pretty, how he liked your laugh, how much he enjoyed your company and was excited to see you again when you both had time.

simon was closed off. he was quiet, mostly listening rather than talking. but he listened well. you remember mentioning that you broke your lamp and had bought a new one but couldn't figure out how to set it up. a week later, after a nice evening spent in bed together, you woke up to find him sitting on your living room floor putting together that lamp for you.

even though könig was...lovely. there was something about simon that was so intoxicating that you couldn't seem to let it go. but also the sex with simon was....spectacular. you never had a man so eager to make you cum until you were incoherent — never had a man who could.

and könig was....traditional. slow. he wanted to date for a long time before jumping into bed. he wanted to properly court you and go through a whole process. which you respected but...you were impatient. greedy.

it wasn't like könig was against you seeing simon. he had told you that you were free to do what you wished, but unless you made it official with the other man he was not going to back down from trying to court you.

so when simon called on you again a couple nights later, you answered.

he was glaring when he opened the door for you, motioning for you to enter before shutting and locking the door.

"why didn't you answer?" he grilled. clearly you ignoring his call when you were with könig annoyed him more than you thought.

you raised an eyebrow before slowly answering, "i was on a date, simon."

that seemed to make him freeze where he stood, eyes narrowing even more into a glare.

"a date?" he spat, "with who? you don't need to go on any dates, you're with me."

that made you roll your eyes so hard it nearly gave you a headache, "a nice guy named könig. simon, i'm not even sure you like me beyond wanting sex. i want a boyfriend." you huffed, "and clearly you don't want that!"

"oh yeah? then why are you here instead of with your boyfriend?" he hissed the last word in disgust.

"we're not official. he hasn't asked but we've been...seeing each other." you decided simply.

at that, simon jerked his mask over his mouth to kiss you in that heated way that made your legs tremble, "does he fuck you as good as i do? hm?"

that got your attention, a sly smile coming to your lips as he worked you out of your clothes.

he was jealous. this revelation was exhilarating to you. simon, the guy who acted like he couldn't care less about you, was actually jealous that you were seeing another guy!

the sex that night was as phenomenal as usual and more. he spent a good half of it with his head between your thighs, pinning you down with strength alone as he ate you to orgasm after orgasm until your cum was a sticky, stringy mess on his lips and chin.

then he worked you to two more orgasms on his cock, the last one he hadn't even needed to touch your clit before you were creaming around him with a sweet little squeal.

simon had a point to prove. you were his and he was not going to lose you to some asshole. deep down, he knew he didn't deserve you and that he should let the better man have you but he just couldn't. he needed you. he wanted you. he was selfish and greedy.

simon disappeared after that. but for once had actually communicated what was going on — deployment, he said. didn't know how long he would be gone. he had actually gave you a goodbye kiss that left you spinning.

the next time you saw simon, you were on a date with könig. it was a quaint little bar that könig said he liked. so there you were, sitting across from him at a booth, nursing a drink and softly talking with one another.

you didn't even know simon was back. he hadn't said anything. when he walked into the bar, his eyes scanned the place like they always did before landing on you.

his gaze lit up as he took a step towards you but quickly halted when he saw you were sitting across from another man. but that didn't stop him for long.

you cursed under your breath, catching könig's attention before simon was right there at the end of the table, glaring at könig.

"can we help you...?" könig asked softly, clearly a little nervous.

"hi...simon..." you sighed softly. könig straightened up in his seat at that.

"official yet?" he asked you, ignoring your greeting.

you gritted your teeth, casting a glance towards könig who looked confused.

"no." you answered simply.

with that simon, yanked a chair from a nearby table and sat right at the end of your table. you concealed a groan of despair.

simons glare fixed upon könig, a challenge clear in his stare alone. he reached forward and grabbed your drink from your hand despite your protest, lifting his mask enough to take a sip, the cocky smirk visible briefly on his lips.

könig quickly understood what was going on and his own eyes narrowed into a glare. you could practically see the sparks going off between them and buried your face in your hands.

it was going to be....a painfully long night, you feared.

#simon ghost riley x reader #könig x reader #konig x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut #ghost smut #cod smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod x reader

[irndad]

walter- s.r.

a/n: can be read as a stand alone!! but this is in the same universe as "in every other life", when they're still in the pining phase, if you want to see them end up together read that one!

“Your middle name is Walter?”

She’s grinning like the Cheshire cat, a grand grin spread across her lovely features. Spencer in both equal measures embarrassed by her question and charmed by her disposition. 

She’s beautiful today, dressed smartly and her dainty fingers almost brush his on his desk as she stands over him. He can smell her perfume, sweet and pleasant. He wants to hold her hand. 

“Who told you that?” He ask, trepidation seeped in his tone. 

“Walter?”

Shame licks at his spine, a familiar sense of embarrassment and rejection looming. He liked his name fine- his mother often would tell him that it’s a sturdy, honest name. He liked it because his mother had liked it, but Spencer he is under no illusion that it Spencer Walter Reid is a particularly attractive name. 

He does like how she says his name, though. 

There’s ways she says it. When she’s at work, she always asks him questions punctuated by his name. What do you think is right, Spencer? What do you think, Spencer? 

It’s lovely to be acknowledged. She has so much intentionality, her doe eyes trained on his with fondness and something like respect. Sometimes, he imagines that she likes him. How he likes her. 

They spend Friday nights together sometimes, when she said that she’s been working through a Doctor Who rewatch- 

“Morgan must have told you,” he muses, fond despite his insecurity. She looks like she’s found out a secret about him, like there’s some conspiracy that has now lost, and now she knows his middle name. 

“It’s cute!” 

Cute is not dreamy- it’s not the romance novel cover that she left on her desk one time (which she’d be mortified if she knew he’d seen) and cute is certainly not boyfriend material. Not that he has a shot at that, but still- he’d like to be an option. 

Spencer juts out his bottom lip in a pout he can’t control. 

“It’s not cute! It’s a very masculine name. I believe its origin is in Olde English.”

“Spencer,” she says, and leans down to his level, and she’s so close to him. SHe’s been this close before- hazy nights under the light of his cheap lamp, when she’s fallen asleep on his couch. He’s not sure she’s told anyone about those nights, about the moments where time slips into the ether and becomes something else entirely. 

“Spencer Walter Reid,” she says, pausing with intention on every piece of his name. He’s never liked it this much, his name. She’s leaning in at the office, which means that she probably won’t kiss him, but he thinks about it. She’s never kissed him before- they’re friends, he needs to remember that. It’s hard to sometimes.  He tries not to stare at her lips. “Your name is just the tip of the iceberg of things that are adorable about you.”

He feels himself involuntarily flush a bright red. It’s not enough to be adorable to her- he’d like to be attractive, like to be the thing she pictures at night when she’s scared of the dark. He wants to be her solace, the person she find comfort- light, love in. 

Adorable is good too, though. He’ll take what he can get. 

#spencer reid #spencer Reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic

[helaelaemond]

Honey on my Tongue - Aemond x reader

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x betrothed reader

Summary: You’ve been betrothed to Aemond, and he has shown little interest in you during your engagement. It hurts so much, for your heart yearns for him. You can't hold it back any longer

Slightly possessive Aemond. Suggestive situations.

Rating: T

Word count: 1.9k

"Would my lady care to dance?"

You look at the hand held out to you, and glance up at Prince Aegon. He grins down at you, and you take his offer graciously. "Thank you, my prince."

Next to him, the princess watches you curiously, and opposite her, your betrothed, Prince Aemond, keeps his one eye fixed on his brother.

"I think we have an audience," you say quietly, smiling.

"Just as I like," Aegon jokes. His hands are sure against you as you begin the simple dance, stepping in time to the music. At every opportunity, he presses himself closer than is proper. It should bother you - but at least you're getting attention from one prince.

"I do wonder about you sometimes," you tell him when steps bring you closer.

Walking in the correct steps around you, Aegon flashes you another grin. "I am on your mind often, then?"

You can't help but roll your eyes. "When you say things like that, a certain curiosity is sparked."

"And is that a curiosity you wish to be satisfied?"

The wine they serve in the Red Keep is stronger than you're used to, and with it brings a boldness that is also foreign. "Is curiosity the only thing you can satisfy?"

He laughs loudly. "Gods, I am sure you think about that often! Should your curiosity ever grow too great to bear, you come and find me."

"And what of your wife?"

Taking your hand, he glances over your shoulder at sweet Helaena, and shrugs. "What of her?"

"How often do you dishonour her?"

"Where there is no love, there is no dishonour. Perhaps you would do well to remember that."

You raise your eyebrow at his implication. There is mirth in his pretty eyes. "Do you think I am destined for an arrangement where love will not flourish?"

Again, Aegon holds you closer than is proper, and his lips are closer to your ear. "My brother is a warrior and a scholar, not a lover. How warm can steel be in a marriage bed?"

There is a tightness in your chest at his words. Perhaps he means only to be charming, to be suggestive, or perhaps he is deliberately cruel. But it is not the elder brother who gives you butterflies. You glance over at your betrothed, and the ice of his glare makes you shiver.

"My lady?" Aegon asks. You've stopped dancing.

"Ah. My apologies, my prince. I think the wine is stronger than I am used to."

"All the better," he answers quietly, and he winks at you. "Should you desire oblivion this night, come to my chambers."

Your face is close to his, and you smile up at him. "I think not, my prince. Perhaps your hand is more curious than I."

Why did you say that? What in the world made you say that? His jaw hangs open in shock at your boldness, and a blush spreads across your cheeks and down your neck. You return to the table where Aemond and Helaena are sat, and where their mother and grandfather talk together quietly.

"Please excuse me, my queen, my Lord Hand. I think I might retire for the night."

Queen Alicent looks at you, and then at Aegon behind you, her eyes wide and searching. "Are you well, my dear?"

"Just a slightly sore head, Your Grace. Nothing a good sleep will not remedy."

Her smile is tight. "Do not hesitate to send for the maester should you need him. Sleep well, my dear."

You curtsey, and turn to do the same in Helaena and Aemond's direction. "My princess, my prince."

Helaena smiles at you, and Aemond's face is as cold as before. You sweep past Aegon on your way to the door, and ignore how he tries to reach for your hand as you pass him.

Out in the corridor, you lean against the cool stone wall, and try to hold back your tears. The soldiers either side of the hall doors keep their gazes forward. You clamp your hand over your mouth in an attempt to stay silent. How much distaste looked at you with pierces you.

Since you met him, you have felt a draw to him. Sometimes, you have even managed to make him smile enough to laugh. Each time, the queen had looked so pleased. He doesn't seem to laugh often, but you bring that out in him. What a prize. And then, other times, he barely pays you any mind. He doesn't strike up conversations with you unless you speak first. He doesn't invite you to dance.

Those moments with him are precious to you. To him, they don't seem to matter in the slightest.

Meanwhile, Aegon throws himself at you like a whore. Perhaps, one day, you'll take him up on the offer - if for no other reason than to feel something. To close your eyes under his touch and imagine Aemond. Anything is better than this loneliness, surely.

You have to get out of here. As weak as your legs feel, you overcome the desire to crumple, and quickly, you begin walking down the corridor towards your rooms. Until you are married, your rooms are far from the royal quarters - quite a trek through the maze of the Red Keep. The doors to the hall where you have just had dinner with the royal family swing open and then closed, and footsteps join yours.

"Wait!" a command is barked. "My lady."

You ignore the order. Your betrothed is not yet your lord husband - he does not command you. Well, as a prince, he does. But the tears have begun to stream, hot and thick, from your eyes, and surely that will disgust him.

"My lady!"

Even Prince Aemond's harsh voice brings butterflies to your stomach. His gait is far longer than yours. You won't disgrace yourself by running like a child from him, and so he quickly catches up with you. As you walk quickly, he matches his steps to yours.

"You have no respect, do you, my lady?"

Furiously, you wipe your cheeks. "I have respect."

"Then stop when you are commanded."

"The command itself is not respectful. I wish to retire."

"And I wish to speak with you."

The wine. Blame the wine. "That is quite unusual."

He grabs your arm and pulls you into a shadowy alcove. "Do you deliberately wish to displease me?"

You try to wrench your arm from his hold but he's too strong. "There is nothing deliberate about it, but it seems it is the only feeling I can inspire in you."

He stares at you through the shadows, his purple eye searching, cold, and his jaw set. "And here I had thought you were intelligent."

"Do you often think of me?" Your voice is laced with accusation.

"More than you know."

"I know nothing."

"On that much, we agree."

You try to pull out of his hold again, but his slender hand is impossibly strong, a vice around your bicep. "What do you want from me, my prince?"

"Dignity."

"What, pray tell, have I done that you deem undignified?"

His lip curls slightly. He pulls you closer to him. "You danced with him."

"He is your brother - it would be shameful to decline his invitation."

"And what of his other invitations? Do you accept those?"

Your stomach drops, and your eyes widen. "I know not of what you speak," you lie.

"He is a lecherous beast, not worthy of my sister, not worthy of-"

"Of whom?" you challenge.

His lips pull back over his teeth for a moment. The dim light makes shadows sharp across his angular face. Gods, he is beautiful. Even in rage, he is beautiful. And you do not fear him. You only fear his indifference. "You are my betrothed. I expect you to act as such."

"And how ought you act as my betrothed?"

"As I see fit," Aemond says, each word slow and deliberate.

"What of my expectations?"

He glares down at you. Gods, he's tall. It makes you weak. "What expectations do you have?"

"That my betrothed at least pretends to like my company."

That makes his spine straighten. The hand on your arm loosens slightly, and to your surprise, it trails up your shoulder and lightly touches your throat. It's impossible to breathe under such sudden tenderness. You can feel the callouses on his palm. "Pretend?" he echoes.

You nod stiffly. "I do not need to pretend. You know I enjoy your company. Too much, I think."

"Too much?"

"Don't. Do not do that."

Aemond's eye watches as his finger touches the base of your throat in the soft spot between your collarbones. It's where he gently feels your pulse. It's so quick. "Do what?"

"Do not pretend that you are unaware of my feelings."

"There is no pretence. I know not."

You push his hand away, although the touch has made your skin rise in goosebumps from your thighs to your scalp. "Then you are as blind with one eye than with none."

He snorts humourlessly. "Elucidate for me."

The wine, the wine, the wine. You shove his chest and he stumbles back, caught unawares. "I like you a great deal. And it agonises me that you do not feel the same. It is a humiliation!"

Swallowing thickly, Aemond's expression softens. "Aegon makes you laugh. I do not."

"Aegon is a fool, and makes me laugh as such. But I do not... I do not care... like I do... for..."

"You care?"

You could hit him, you really could. "If you could not tell by now, then we shall never make one another happy."

When you turn away to walk off, he catches you again, and suddenly he pulls you tight against his tall frame, and his arms are around your back, and his face is close to yours. "You make me laugh, my lady."

"I make many people laugh. You could make me a royal fool."

"Do not say such things," he hisses, anger flashing again. "You're my betrothed. Mine."

"I do not want to belong to you like a book or sword."

"Yes, you do." He leans down and whispers against your ear. "You are mine, and mine alone. I am sorry that you did not know that until now."

"Do you say this out of pride or love?" you ask, more bravery in your voice than you truly feel.

"My love is proud. And so too is my betrothed."

"Pride does not drive me, my prince. Only love."

"Do you love me?" he murmurs. It is good he is too close to look at. If he faced you, you would not have the strength to answer.

"I do."

"Not Aegon?"

"No."

He kisses under your ear. You whimper. His voice is so silky. "You will not dance with him again."

"Will I dance with you?"

"Every night until we are wed."

As he winds his arms tighter around you, you press a hand into his hair. "And once we are married?"

"We shall have no time for dancing. I shall have no mind for anything but possessing you."

"You want to possess me?"

He kisses your skin. "Entirely. For already, I am yours."

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x y/n #mine #aemond targaryen

[jinnie-ret]

people pleaser

stray kids x ninth member!reader (platonic)

genre: fluff, angst

content warnings: toxic friends

word count: 3.6k

summary: in her one kid's room episode, y/n reflects on how it was hard for her not to be so kind and sweet to everyone, because she just wanted them to like her.

MAIN MASTERLIST

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The music at the start of the video played, cutting between different things the members were saying.

"Ah, she's too kind for her own good," Seungmin shook his head with a slightly sad smile.

"She hypes everyone up, she's like a mood maker of the group," Lee Know added on.

"Y/N is very selfless," Jeongin said turning his head to the others as they nodded.

"One Kid's Room, Y/N!" Y/N smiled into the camera, relaxed into the armchair with her comfy purple fleece on.

••••••

Ever since the group's trainee days, Y/N had been a people pleaser. Not that she realised that fact about herself, until it came to the future where she would reflect on herself.

She remembered when she had seen Han around the practice rooms, and it didn't matter what he did, singing, dancing or rapping... he was talented in all areas. He was even charming to her despite his shyness occasionally. She knew for sure he'd debut soon, he was an ace after all. There were also rumours going around that her good friend Chan was creating a group to join the showcase and have a chance at debuting. She wanted to be like him, so she made a lot of effort to greet him and be kind to him.

"Hi Jisung!" she would wave at him as she passed him in the corridors of JYP Entertainment.

Of course, Han being Han, would wave back without really knowing who she was at first, but he felt too awkward to ignore her. When he spoke to his hyung about a pretty girl always saying 'hello' at him, Chan was quick to tell Han about who his friend Y/N was (and also that she was off limits because he was thinking of adding her to the group but he didn't tell Han that last part).

Soon they became more comfortable around each other and Y/N found herself practising singing songs with Han, wishing she could belt notes like he could too.

"Wow, you're so good at hitting those higher notes! I wish I could do that," Y/N turned her head towards Han, from where they were both lying down on the practice room floor, feet pointed outwards to opposite walls but their heads side by side.

"Hey, you've got a great voice too, you know?" Han quickly moved his head to the side to look at her, but decided against it and stared right back up at the ceiling.

"You really think so?" Y/N's voice wavered. She needed reassurance, she knew that herself. There was still a long way to go, but she'd get to a place she wanted with her voice one day.

"I know so. Maybe one day you could be my backup singer?" Han said casually, before belly laughing when Y/N leaned over and turned to him with a pout.

"Hannnn!" she whined.

"Yah, you know I'm joking, just keep practising, you'll do great, yeah?" Han said genuinely, before standing up and hauling her up himself as they left the practice room.

•••

The next to join the group Chan was preparing for was a boy the same age as her, Jeongin. He was cute, Y/N thought, shy as well and maybe even similar to herself in some ways for wanting the approval of others, especially their future leader.

Dropping her bag in the corner of the room, first to arrive, Y/N quickly exited the practise room realising she needed the bathroom. Only to return to see Jeongin sheepishly standing in the entrance, Han looking away and Chan stood in the middle of the room with his arms folded.

"Jeongin you should have been here ten minutes ago," the Australian guy frowned running a hand through his hair. Ten minutes? Wow, Chan could be scary sometimes, and Y/N didn't regret joining the group lineup so far, but he was pretty strict.

"I-i was just..." Jeongin tried speaking up but clearly didn't have the words to explain why, practice bag in between his legs and hands clasped nervously behind his back.

"Oh that's my fault, Chan," Y/N decided to lie for him and came forward and stood next to Jeongin, resting her hand on his shoulder as they stood at the same height, "I was showing Jeongin this video at the dorms and I insisted he watch it before we leave..." she even looked off to the side awkwardly, and that part was genuine because the moment Chan let out a huff through his nose, she felt intimidated.

"Guys.... ugh, just, get ready for practice, yeah?" Chan sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose as the two youngest rushes to one side of the room.

"Why did you do that?" Jeongin whispered, pulling out his bottle of water.

"Because I want to know why you were really late," Y/N joked and nudges his shoulder, making him laugh.

"Guys, stop messing around!" Chan rolled his eyes. Y/N wasn't so sly, he saw her bag that had already been there, and knew she hadn't arrived at the same time as Jeongin, but he allowed the excuse nonetheless.

•••

Walking back into the dorms after a busy shift at work, with school the next day, hearing a loud argument was not ideal at all for Y/N. And of course, it had to be between Han and Hyunjin. The taller boy had recently been recruited by Chan after his exceptional dance skills and potential. Perhaps Han was jealous? Y/N didn't really know, all she wanted was her bed right now but she hated the confrontation she heard.

"You can't just leave your things around everywhere! You're so messy!" Hyunjin yelled at Han.

Y/N peeked her head round the hallway after taking off her coat and shoes to see them yelling at each other in the lounge. Chan and Jeongin were nowhere to be seen - they must be out somewhere.

"I was here first! You think I care about your complaints? Get over yourself!" Han shouted, fists clenched at his sides.

"Oh so it's not ok for me to complain, but you get to act like a spoilt brat and like you're better than everyone else?!" Hyunjin yelled once more.

"Guys, what are you doing?" Y/N yawned, staring at the shouting boys who immediately flipped round to their dongsaeng.

"Oh, hey Y/N," Hyunjin's eyes softened, and so did his tone as he saw her standing there tiredly.

"What are you doing up so late?" Han questioned, glancing across at her.

"She works, remember? Gosh, you don't care about anyone but yourself and-" Hyunjin shouted before Y/N quietly cut him off with her calming demeanour.

"Stop. Just stop. You ask me why I'm up late but you two are up awake and arguing... If we're gonna be a team we can't go on like this. And that's not fair to Chan," Y/N shook her head sighing. She couldn't even look at the boys, but from the resounding silence there was she hoped her words had gotten through to them.

"I guess you're right," Hyunjin nodded, shifting awkwardly on one leg.

They all looked at Y/N as if seeing her in a whole new way, she seemed more mature than ever in that moment.

"We all have early starts tomorrow, don't we?" Y/N checked with them, chewing on her lip.

"You're right we do," Han sighed and nodded.

"Right, let's sleep then," Y/N nodded and rushed off to her room, not wanting to be in that situation again. She liked offering her advice, yes, but being the voice of reason? That felt like another level of having responsibility.

"Let's not fight again," Hyunjin whispered, tired himself, physically and emotionally.

All Han could do was roll his eyes and nod as they retreated to their rooms.

It may not have been the last time they fought, but they both put in more effort to control their emotions.

•••

3RACHA was completed. Changbin joined Han and Chan in making music and releasing in onto SoundCloud together, and despite his darker aura, the boy was one of the most caring guys she had ever met.

He would check up on her often, noticing her floating away into her own little world. It happened again one day, when Y/N was sat in the studio with the three guys, until Chan and Han went to collect lunch.

"You good, Y/Nnie?" Changbin asked, breaking the comfortable silence that was in the room.

"Hmm, yeah, why?" Y/N wiped sleep out of her eyes as she saw him staring back at her.

"It's ok, you know, to be upset, or tired," Changbin gently spoke, sensing from the start that she was a sensitive, soft soul.

"I'm not upset... I just need to improve, that's all..." Y/N sighed, curling up into a tighter ball on the sofa, tugging a blanket over her legs.

"I saw your face after the staff spoke to you," Changbin informed her, helping to straighten out the blanket.

"They just said that I shouldn't expect to be a part of the group if I'm dancing and singing the way I do and that even a rat would have done a better job," Y/N shrugged, not able to look at Changbin.

"They what? They can't say rude shit like that to you!" Changbin stood up, arms folded.

"I-it was just constructive criticism," Y/N jumped slightly, not expecting the strong reaction from her fellow group member.

"No, they were rude to you, there's a difference between constructive criticism and being rude. How is what they said helpful in any way?!" Changbin growled, shaking his head with a clenched jaw.

"I just caught them in a bad mood-" Y/N shared the thought that was playing over and over again in her head, eyes shining as she looked up at Changbin.

"No, you didn't, ok? It's alright," Changbin side hugged her to him, joining her back on the sofa, "it's ok to feel sad from what they said, I just want you to talk to me about it, I'm here. Now, come on, Chan and Han will be back with food soon."

•••

Next to join the group was a charming freckled boy, also from Australia. He had quickly grown close with Chan from their shared nationality, but Y/N craved to be close with him too. She wanted him to like her, after all, she got on well with her other members, so she found herself worrying when she hadn't really had a chance to bond with him yet.

He was a cute and loveable guy, and with the language barrier, Felix not really knowing a lot of Korean yet, Y/N felt disheartened when her words would be met with a blank look from him. She just hadn't connected the dots yet, not realising it was because her quick ramblings in Korean were an overwhelming whirlwind of incomprehensible words.

"Hi Felix! I'm so glad you joined the group, you've got such a cool voice I think it will really make us stand out!" Y/N gushed to Felix after they all did a vocal practice together.

"Thank you," Felix awkwardly answered before looking away at the ground, smiling bigger only when Chan stood next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

That was when Y/N decided she needed to find a better way to communicate with Felix, so she started writing notes, using an online translator to write an English translation below her Korean words, to tell him words of encouragement and show him she was there as a friend.

•••

"Thanks Y/N! See you soon, maybe," Y/N's trainee friends giggled as they left the lobby of JYP, Y/N waving goodbye to them as she zipped her purse back up.

"What was that about?" Seungmin spoke up, leant against the wall opposite her.

"Oh, umm, my friends asked if they could borrow some of my money to get some snacks," Y/N grinned, feeling happy she was able to help her friends.

"You didn't have to do that... give them your money so easily," Seungmin shook his head, walking over and standing closer to her now.

Seungmin was recognised for his polite nature and gorgeous voice, hence his joining of the group.

"It's ok, really, they needed it and plus they said they'd pay me back," Y/N defended her friends, lips pursing when she saw Seungmin frown.

"Whenever I see those friends of yours they ask for money," Seungmin was trying really hard for Y/N to see sense.

"It's fine I have a part time job for a reason," Y/N smiled, trying to brush away Seungmin's concerned but it only made it worse.

"Yeah, not to fund their snacks," his eyes only widened in response.

"They need it," Y/N's voice became higher pitched, as she was desperate for Seungmin to believe her and just leave alone the subject. She didn't want to be in any sort of argument with him but he also didn't want him to be thinking badly of her friends.

"So do you, please be careful around them," Seungmin sighed and patted her shoulder, seeing she wanted to leave the subject alone, as they both left the company.

Later that night at the dorms, Y/N and Seungmin were relaxing on the sofa, with the other members too, as they scrolled through their phones. Looking at her social media, Y/N tapped on her friend's story, only to see they were all hanging out without her, and seemed to be eating at a slightly more expensive fast food restaurant. But they didn't even have enough money for a snack earlier?!

It seemed Y/N had spoke this last thought out loud. Seungmin peered over her shoulder and frowned, recognising the people in the photos as his younger member's friends.

Stopping himself from telling her 'I told you so', Seungmin offered his comfort.

"You've got us, yeah? Don't worry about them anymore," Seungmin swiped off of the story and took her phone out of her hands.

"I don't know what i did wrong..." Y/N bit her lip, wondering how she always went wrong with her friends.

"You did nothing wrong, they took advantage of your kindness, Y/N, now let me order some fried chicken for us, yeah?"

•••

The final member Chan added to the lineup was a guy called Minho, who, very impressively, had completed the basic JYP dance moves in 2 weeks. Y/N was in awe of him.

"I can't believe you completed the moves already! I bet Chan will make you dance leader when we all get to debut together!" Y/N smiled at Lee Know, singing his praises.

"Aha, thank you," Lee Know awkwardly bowed at her, not really saying much after. Y/N just wanted to compliment him and show her appreciation, but seeing his short responses made her feel awkward too, and soon they'd be left in silence.

Y/N found herself sat there thinking, she spent so long trying to get everyone to like her, but maybe what she said, what she did, wasn't good enough?

"Is this too much for you?" Chan sat down next to Y/N, who had isolated herself to sit in the corner of the practice room.

"No it's fine," Y/N waved her hand away, running a hand through her hair.

"Tell me the truth," Chan insisted, shifting his body to look at her, feeling concerned.

"I am, I'm fine," Y/N bluntly said, not wanting to talk about how she truly was feeling, and the thoughts she was having.

"Don't lie to me, I need to know you can do this, I don't want you stressing out, we've got the showcase ahead of us, Y/N," Chan urged her to tell the truth, resting a hand on her knee, patting it gently.

"Look, ok, it is a lot to deal with but I can do it, I promise you. I just, I'm trying to figure everything in my head," Y/N leant her head back against the wall, closing her eyes.

"Thank you for telling me the truth, and, Y/N, that's why we're here, we don't want you feeling like you're on your own when you do so much for all of us, ok?" Chan side hugged her, warmth in his eyes, and some relief there when he finally broke through to her.

"I am? I mean, I do a lot for you guys?" Y/N's voice pleaded for the truth, looking at Chan with hope in her eyes.

"You always do," he smiled and ruffled her hair.

••••••

Back to One Kids Room, Y/N smiled as she thought about how she had come as a person.

"As much as I still look up to my members, my self-esteem has grown so much and I've learnt to value myself. I love them so much, but I need to give myself energy and time too," Y/N smiled at the camera, hands squeezing the long arms of her sleeves and balling them up.

"She's so much more confident now, I remember she used to ask me if this was fine or that but now she's more confident," Changbin commented, the other guys nodding in agreement.

"She used to come to me being like, woahhhhh you're such a good dancer!" Lee Know chucked, thinking of the younger version of Y/N, who would always praise her members.

"Ah yes she'd speak exactly like that! Wow... And she'd look at me like, with these wide eyes being like, I wanna rap like you!" Han laughed as he perfectly imitated how Y/N spoke to him.

"She used to have this really sweet habit, when I didn't know Korean very well, umm, she'd leave these little notes for me, and write the Korean and English translation for me just so I knew what she was saying. There'd always be these words of encouragement, it just made my heart feel warm," Felix told the members, who all 'ooh'ed in response, shocked at this fact because they didn't know that Y/N used to do that.

"Ah, yes, I did used to leave notes for Felix... I wanted to be his friend so badly! He just seemed so cool but whenever I spoke to him he just sort of awkwardly smiled and nodded. I thought he didn't like me, turns out he had no idea what I was saying, so I left notes for him instead... yeah," Y/N felt shy when she admitted this, covering her face.

"I remember back in trainee days, I was late for practice because I overslept. And then when I arrived I thought Channie hyung is really going to scold me but Y/N suddenly appeared, I think she came back from the bathroom or something but she said it was her fault that we were both late, and I thought phew, hyung won't be angry at me now, haha," Jeongin told his own story, remembering Y/N covering for him, and that wasn't the only time she had done that.

"I remember that! I knew she was covering up for you!" Chan gasped, pointing an accusing finger at Jeongin who laughed in response.

"She's so sweet and kind, whenever any of us would argue she'd try and stop it from happening," Hyunjin shook his head in wonder at how selfless Y/N was.

"Oh yeah! She'd try and get us to see from each perspective, even though I felt like I was right I thought wow I can't argue because now Y/N would be sad too if we carried on," Han covered his mouth slightly as he laughed, patting Hyunjin on the shoulder knowing that the argument he was referring to was definitely between the two of them.

"Right! Right! She's really good at seeing other people's feelings, but she used to struggle when it came to herself... She'd look so confused if I said to her that she was acting sad, she looked like a lost puppy..." Changbin said in a more serious tone.

"Oh when she had those puppy eyes! Yeah!" Chan nodded along enthusiastically, knowing the look all too well.

"It made my heart ache, she didn't understand, she's much better now though, I'll get a knock at my door and we'll talk for hours," Changbin confessed, feeling happy he was needed in helping his member feel better.

"Ah yes I talk to Binnie a lot about my feelings these days... I still find it confusing to understand how I feel but it makes a bit more sense when I talk with him, yeah..." Y/N began, still a bit shy in admitting when she needed help but better than she would have been before, "I don't think I look like a puppy? Seungmin is more like a puppy, haha."

"Remember Y/N used to have that part time job?" Seungmin asked the rest of the guys.

"Really?" Felix was shocked, not realising everything Y/N had to balance.

"Yeah she used to work at a cafe whilst training and school, I really admired that," Hyunjin grinned, proud of the younger girl.

"But she'd still have to ask us for money," Chan laughed.

"She'd spend it on her old friends! She wanted to make sure they were ok and then suddenly she wouldn't have any money left!" Seungmin said in disbelief, his voice cutely rising up and down in pitch showing how he was feeling.

"Oh, that makes sense I remember one time we got some boba, and she asked me like oppa, can you get me that please? And I asked her where her money went and she said she spent it on a present for Innie... I think it was near his birthday at the time," Lee Know commented, leaning back against the sofa.

"Woahh, my heart," Hyunjin gasped, placing a hand over his chest, "that's so cute!"

"Ah I love giving gifts! I feel like if I can find someone the perfect gift and they are happy then I'm really happy too," Y/N explained after a staff member asked her the question.

"I think I'm definitely different from debut days... If I could say anything about myself now... It would be... You have grown. Y/N has changed, but in a good way!"

"One Kid's Room, Y/N, finished!"

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @kai-lee08 @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami @yangbbokari

#skz #stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz fic #straykids ninth member #skz ninth member #stray kids ninth #ninth member #stray kids ninth member #skz 9th member reader #skz 9th member #stray kids 9th member

[lustytears]

i wanna turn you on.

loser!luke castellan x f!reader

summary: (title is inspired by the smashing pumpkins - today) luke castellan basically watches you from your cabin window and mutually (but not mutually) masturbates with you.

warnings: smut, luke is a bit weird. luke is giving virgin but that’s up to the reader honestly, reader gets sexualized by luke, written in mainly luke’s perspective but it does switch to the readers, masturbation, bathroom breaks (if you catch my drift from the previous tag), luke is a manipulative piece of shit but it’s very hard to know at first read.

You weren’t kidding when you had the sneaking suspicion that one had always been watching you. All of your darkest moments felt violated, invaded, or even threatened.

Maybe you thought wrong. That’s what everyone else thought when you confessed to your friends, saying that “Nobody would bother to try and watch you” or, “You’ll be fine. Camp’s safe.”

What you were unaware of was that Luke Castellan, the brave and noble leader who aspired many at camp for his dedicated devotion to his people and the gods.

Were you wrong to think otherwise?

•————————————————————————•

He was desperate. Desperate to understand you, feel you, and even taste you. His heart (as conveyed by those personal to him) was kind, logical, and even charming. He welcomed everyone who was unclaimed, and those who were claimed. The sweet little “heys” and the “hellos” are what people paid attention to. His demeanor and morality were nothing but pure.

You knew that for some reason, Luke had the right intentions. But for some part inside of you, something twisted his image into something so much more darker and malevolent.

He wasn’t dark, neither any of the things you thought. Contradicting, yes—but he couldn’t help but stare at you whenever you walked past, staring at the back of your body and sometimes your ass. He tried to snap out of it, tried so hard to keep his control, but he couldn’t help it.

He realized that you were his new obsession. Occasionally, Luke would sometimes go to the bathroom stalls to stroke his painfully rock-hard cock that leaked small beads of pre-cum, wiping onto his hand and leaking all over the base of his cock. His mind would drift to how your voice was maternally caring, sweet and dripping almost like nectar. Your lips and the way they would part open and close, rubbing them together against your pink-glossed lip gloss. The thought of the sticky consistency and shiny glow of your lips wrapped around the base of his cock as he steadily thrusted his cock hard and fast into your mouth like it was nothing but made for him would make him grip the top of the stall door.

Luke would try to feel disdained by these thoughts, try so desperately to think of other problems he had. But you were his only problem.

One day around Camp, he noticed how one of the Ares boys were sticking around you like you were some kind of fly trap. The boy would try and lift you up, slinging you over his shoulder like you were some prized possession.

“Put me down!” You laughed as you nudged your body, particularly your hips noticeable to both the boy that was carrying you and to Luke.

The Ares boy took notice of the sudden tension and put you down, before accidentally (but obviously, not totally) pushing your ass into his pelvic region when he grabbed your arms and pulled you back. You’d laugh, the impact of your ass in those little black shorts bouncing against his center drove Luke fucking insane.

Luke ended up getting one of the hardest boners ever to pain him, and he would occasionally watch your body move around, your hips swaying and the way your ass was barely fit into your outfit made him palm his cock, pretending to adjust his jeans.

On a dark night, Luke realized that you had the same routine. Specifically, it was your night routine. He didn’t expect to remember it, but he remembered one specific incident where he followed you to your cabin.

He watched as you opened the door and closed it, slamming it behind you in what may have been frustration. Then, he got the idea to get a closer look.

Luke inched near your window, crouching below the window pane just to see perfectly into the dimly visible light that instantly let him see into your own world. It was so wrong, but it was so worth knowing that the blinds were pulled up all the way, almost as if you personally wanted somebody to watch you like you were a product on display.

You walked around the room, his eyes following your every step, even when you sat down on the bed and looked through your dresser, going through the top drawer that contained your underwear and nightwear. Pulling out a black mesh nightgown, you got up and started to strip down to your bare and naked body. He carefully focused on how the t-shirt you wore hiked up above your amazingly flawless breasts. The way you pulled it off and threw it down to the bed caused the two of you to moan, unknowingly so. You seemed frustrated with something, but he was high as fuck on this moment.

His cock rubbed against the barriers holding him back, and it wasn’t getting better. When your thumb tucked underneath the waistband of your underwear and shorts, you pulled them down and off your legs. Your ass was visible for him to see, and he dared to peak his head up a little more to see how it motioned as you walked to your bed.

He expected you to put back on your nightgown, but he thought so, so fucking wrong. You flopped down your bed and pulled your legs up to show him how your pussy looked dripping wet. His mouth dropped, his hands going down to his pants and subconsciously unbuttoning them so he could stick his dick out through his boxers and thrust his half-erect cock into his fist.

But he didn’t want to touch himself just yet. He needed to see more. What more could you give? It didn’t make any sense, but it finally did when your long and slender fingers tucked under your weight, where you parted your cunt apart with two fingers in a ‘V’ shape. You moaned as the cold air hit your hot and wet pussy. Luke’s hands fumbled to pull his cock out, his eyes glued to the way you were now dipping your middle finger into your sopping wet hole. You pressed a finger into your gummy walls and started to create a rhythm along with your hips and your hand.

He rubbed the leaking pre-cum all over the tip of his cock, pretending like your thumb was doing so. He wrapped his palm around his dick and jerked himself up and down in a slow and deliberately painful manner. Your fingers moved to your clit and began to rub it in a circular motion, your lips all puffy and your eyes closed from the pleasure you were giving yourself. So much was going on for you that your back arched off the bed, and Luke’s cock was being fucked even faster from his own hand. He whined a bit louder, involuntarily thrusting into his own hand. The both of you could sense your own respective releases, and it wasn’t slowing down anytime sooner.

Luke would whisper his name to his own self, pretending like it was you who was calling it out through the muffled sounds of your moans inside of your cabin. Your legs twitched and two fingers were now deep and invasive inside of your tight cunt.

He hoarsely whispered to himself. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum so hard all for you,” softly swearing as he could feel his own semen dripping out of his cock and lubricating his fist.

Your fingers worked harder, and your clit was getting rubbed to the point where it felt like it was numb for pleasure. You let out a steady and sharp moan, lifting your ass off of the mattress and pumping now three digits into your pretty and pink pussy. He watched you, all goggly and eyes wide like he’d miss one second of you. He couldn’t waste the opportunity to miss you cum.

Luke was now practically moaning and hyperventilating as he let out a sigh and came all over the place. Webs of white and hot cum coated his overstimulated cock and the fist of his hand. You followed along, cumming and tightening all around your fingers as you vocally expressed one of the best moans one could ever experience in an orgasm.

All tired and weak, your legs fell down against the bed as your swollen clit pulsated from such intensity.

With realization, Luke snapped his eyes down to see the mess he made just crouching below your window. He groaned, shaking his hand to get rid of some of the cum that was on his hand. His cock was now soft and finally pleased, so he tucked his cock right back into his boxers and pulled up his jeans, remaining low and among the bushes before he know it was safe to walk alone.

When Luke was approached by a wandering cabin mate, he’d just make an excuse.

“Couldn’t sleep. Had to kill time,” knowing damn well with a smile that you just solved his nightly frustrations.

#UGH THIS IS SO BAD #FEELS SOO RUSHED #luke castellan smut #luke castellan #smut #stalker #pjo tv show #percy jackson #percy jackson smut #fanfic

[anqelbean]

I need a bingqiu fic where everyone reverse transmigrates into the modern world but only Binghe and Mobei Jun remember their old world cause now THEY have the system and their task is simple: find their husbands and make them fall in love with them again.

Seems easy right? They've done it once already.

WRONG.

Because, when Binghe finds Shen Qingqiu, he's heartbroken to find that his Shizun's personality is almost the same as before his qi deviation in their previous life, and has absolutely no interest in him.

He also finds out that for some reason in this life Shen Qingqiu has a younger brother, Shen Yuan.

Shen Yuan is sweet and kind and pretty and gentle and funny and pretty. He's also closer in age to Binghe. Slowly Binghe starts to feel a devastating guilt every time he looks at him. He doesn't know where this man was in their previous life, but in this one. In this one Binghe is pretty sure he's falling in love with him.

He feels guilty because it feels like betraying his Shizun, his husband. He feels like the only reason he's in love with Shen Yuan is because he reminds him of his husband, but that's not fair to Shen Yuan either. It's like he's just replacing one brother for the other.

But no matter how much he tries he can't get Shen Yuan out of his mind.

Then his Shizun, Shen Qingqiu, starts dating Yue Qingyuan and Binghe's confused more than anything. He doesn't understand why he doesn't feel heartbroken. But when the System doesn't take away any points for this, he finally asks it "Hey, System." "Yes?" "Do you know why Shizun is acting as such?" "What do you mean? We've detected no abnormal behaviour from Shen Yuan." "No, not Shen Yuan, Shen Jiu— WAIT, WAIT, SHEN YUAN?????"

Then he finds out, this whole time, he's been going after the WRONG. GUY.

Shen Yuan, on the other hand is heartbroken.

Despite acting like he's straight his whole life (and very much believing it himself), there was just something that stabbed him in the chest every time he looked at Luo Binghe playfully flirting with his ge (while getting rejected every. Fucking. Time. Shen Yuan really doesn't know if his ge doesn't know the hottest guy on the planet is flirting with him, or if he's being an idiot and rejecting him).

He's gotten to know the guy quite well, and they have become quick friends. They talk, they text and they hang out, all the time. He finds that Binghe is an amazing cook (seriously, HOW can food be so good?). He also loves to read, and they proceed to rant about the books they've both read. He's also a huge cry baby. (Shen Yuan thinks it's cute)

And sometimes.

Sometimes he'll just look at Shen Yuan with so much, well, fondness. It's in those moments that Shen Yuan let's himself dream that maybe, maybe, this boy could be his.

Sometimes he'll say something that cannot be categorized as anything but shameless flirting.

Like the first time he made Shen Yuan congee. "This is the best thing I've ever had. Holy shit." "Ah, you like it that much? Alright then. I'll make it for you all the time, with variations." Then he proceeded to wink. WINK. (Shen Yuan did not blush. He did not. He's straight. It's just the halo-like light that surrounds Luo Binghe is enough to charm sven a straight man. Like him. Cause he's straight. Definitely.)

When his ge starts dating Yue Qingyuan. He expects Binghe to look heartbroken, but. He doesn't. He acts like nothing is wrong. Absolutely nothing is out of place.

Except he smiles at Shen Yuan with that fond look way more often. He flirts way more often. He cooks for him way more often.

Shen Yuan doesn't know how to feel about that.

Has this guy been some kind of playboy this whole fucking time? And when one target is no longer available, he just moves on? To his BROTHER? Yeah, no, scratch that, he knows exactly how he feels.

He's furious.

(Binghe has no idea why Shen Yuan seems so angry with him. He just wants to kiss his husband. Why must this always happen when they reunite?)

Mobei Jun on the other hand is having a, uhh, sorta better time. He's found Shang Qinghua. Shang Qinghua is the Shang Qinghua he knows, flighty, cowardly and cute. But, the thing is. Qinghua's absolutely terrified of him.

Every time he pops up next to him, he squeals and jolts so bad that one time he slammed into a door.

But he still blushes at their proximity. Still has the same taste in trashy novels. Still writes. Still loves having his hair ruffled.

They get together within 2 months. The system congratulates him 3 times.

#anqels ramblings #eva.txt #svsss #scum villain self saving system #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #shen jiu #yue qingyuan #mobei jun #shang qinghua #bingqiu #bingyuan #moshang #bingyuan reverse transmigration au

[heartcereql]

shades of cool

୨୧ young!coriolanus snow x f!reader ୨୧ IN WICH Coriolanus is the person you've grown to hate and compete against. But when you and him have to work together to achieve what you want, the tables start to turn. (6.2k+ words) ୨୧ cw: cursing, a LOT of tension (yall r going to hate me for the cockblocking but next chapter will make it up i promise), probably ooc snow (acting like he's a sweetheart and not a psycho lollll), like one mention of blood?

a/n: snow lands on top (of me pls)

𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝐼 - 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝐼𝐼

There were only two things that you completely and utterly despised: breaking your favorite nail and the voice of Coriolanus Snow.

"Y/n!"

You made no sign whatsoever to acknowledge the man following your across the crowd of burgundy uniforms. You just clutched your books tighter and quickened your pace.

"Hey, Y/n- wait up!" he called again.

Sighing, you stopped in your tracks and turned around to see a platinum blond running in your direction. The usual shit-eating grin plastered on his face. You put on your best effort to suppress the eye roll that was begging to be released.

"Yes?" you asked, unamused.

"I was just wondering- you seemed kind of distracted in class today." His words were sugary, almost enough to trick anyone into thinking he was truly concerned. But not you though. You had learn to identify the glint in his eyes from a mile away. "Well, just in cas you missed this-"

Before you knew it, you had an A+ graded exam shoved in your face. Making a face of disgust, you scrambled away to look at his face, expression filled with pride.

"That's great, Coriolanus, real great. Would be even greater if I had asked", you scowled, turning away while Coriolanus scoffed behind you, quickly catching up with you again as you resumed your way out.

"Oh, c'mon, Y/n! You're not the only one who's allowed to brag", he said, nudging your side.

"Clearly not. You do it all the time", you deadpanned.

"Don't be mad 'cause you weren't able to beat me. Again."

The smell of roses was too stuck in your nostrils for your liking. Sweet and inviting, but remembering who it came from made the flowers lose all their charm.

"Also, exercise three's answer was option D," he pointed out, that annoying smirk on his face again.

"What?"

"It was option D, not A."

"How did you even- Nevermind. Option A is the literal definition, care to explain how it is option D?" you argued, rolling your eyes.

"I- A's not the definition!" Coriolanus tried to rebute.

"It is. Try paying attention for once."

"It's not!" He stopped fully, leaning against a wall and opening his bag.

"What are you doing?" you raised a brow at his franctic search. Sometimes you forgot how infuriating he was.

"I'm looking for the textbook," he replied, face almost buried in his bag.

"Unbelievable," you scoffed, turning around. "You really are unfixable, Snow."

Walking away from the mess of papers he had made around him, you could hear him protest.

"Hey, don't go! I'm finding the page!"

You shook your head. The exasperation in his voice was like music to your ears.

You knew who you wanted to be from a very young age. You knew exactly what you wanted and what you had to do to achieve it. You wanted everything.

Top of your class since you were five. Student of the month every month. Class president. Winning every single award that could be won by a child under twelve years old.

You wanted to take everything from a life that had given you nothing. Like a phoenix, your mother used to say, risen from the ashes to burn in the most blazing fire. With little to no resources, your family had incredibly made it work so that they could afford a small apartment in the Capitol (if you dared call the cubicle that your family shared a house). But your family had made it. And so had you, child prodigy, wanting to rescue your poor parents and sister. Specially when your mom's frequent coughing developed into something far more serious.

You were unstoppable. Nothing in your way. Praise. Applause. Recognition. It was all in the back of your hand.

Until Coriolanus Snow appeared.

He and you were basically the same. Same drive for power, same desire to rescue your family, same overachiever character, same flawless grades. One would think you would get along, being so impossibly similar.

And perhaps you could have. You could've befriended him and helped each other. If he had not equalled you with such aptitude. Before you knew it, Y/n Y/l/n was never mentioned without Coriolanus Snow. You were no longer the only student to pass with distinction. You weren't the only clear winner, or the only candidate for class president, or weren't so easily distincted class president, for Coriolanus was your vicepresident (something that had never been a thing, that appeared as suddenly as him).

But he was fighting you for your spot. Naturally, you didn't even consider him as a potential friend. He was an obstacle in your way, as you were in his. Soon, you two were always engaged in bantering, cruel comments, trying to bring the other down by showing off your accomplishments and grades and awards and titles.

It was more than safe to say that you and Corolanius held special hatred for each other.

And then came the Plintz Prize. Both of you wanted it with equal burning ache, and gave your very best since the first day. Obviously, you weren't the only students who were interested in winning the prize, but you were the ones ready to sacrifice everything, the ones to always make the most of an opportunity, even if it was minimal.

You were so deeply convinced that you were nothing like the other.

But neither of you was willing to let anything come in your way.

"A new financial aid is going to be gifted."

The words echoed in the room as students hushedly commented, whispered to one another.

"Students will submit a proposal, individually or in pairs. A suggestion with your own design of the Hunger Games. You'll go into detail about every little thing, so that in the end, Dr Gaul will select the project she fancies more to be the winner and receive the financial aid."

You and Coriolanus shared a look from opposite sides of the room.

The prize is mine.

As per usual, you were determined to go for everything. You needed to nail this. That very same afternoon you were sat in front of your desk, scribbling down what was supposed to be the first draft to your proposal project. You'd noted some ideas, but they didn't seem to make sense altogether.

Groaning for the umpteenth time, you got up from the spot you'd been occuppying for the last two hours. Your home was no inspiration, which was why you gathered all your scattered pages and notes and made your way to the Academy's library.

There was a spot you liked there. Your spot, though only you referred to it as that, of course. A comfy chair with a green cushion on the end of a large oak table, between the shelves of Geometry books and medicine articles. Golden rays of sunlight filtered through the large window on spring afternoons, and even in the bleak winter it felt nice to look through it.

Making your way over to your spot, you could almost feel the comfort of the chair, how your thoughts would clear and start to make sense. Eyes half closed anticipating the delight. But you opened them only to find a familiar (and annoying) blond sitting in your corner.

"Move" you said as you finished your way over to him.

"What? No. I'm working. Thinking", Coriolanus answered, unbothered, without looking up from his notes and papers, some scrambled, some with big ink stains.

"I don't care. It's my spot. Move.”

He raised his head to look up at you and stopped writing.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise this chair had your name engraved on it,” he pettily remarked.

“Whatever,” you exhaled, plopping down on the seat next to him. “You are such a pain in the ass, you know.”

“Back at you,” he replied, eyes focused on his papers again.

You huffed and reached inside your bag to grab your notes.

Your messily written ideas were mocking you, at this point. If you thought they didn’t make much sense at home, they definitely weren’t making any now. You had so much in mind. And they were great ideas, really. But you couldn’t find a way to connect them, for them to make sense altogether. And you were missing something. Something so essential, something that you couldn’t quite place.

How will the games be watched if they’re held in the middle of a desert? Where will the cameras be?

You scrunched your paper, groaning again and dropping your head to the table.

"Something wrong?"

You lifter your head to find Coriolanus looking at you, carding a hand through his hair.

"None of your business."

"Jesus, chill out Y/n. I was just asking if you were okay.." he spoke, not in his usual bratty tone; he sounded just worried.

Your eyes widened a bit with a mix between embarrassment and shyness.

"I'm just... stressed. I'm stuck on the whole proposal thing, it just won't make any sense. I feel like it's missing something, but I just can't know what," you told him, rubbing your temples.

Coriolanus let out a breathy chuckle, to which you looked at him disbelief.

"I knew you were cruel, but laughing at my miserable state is just-"

"I'm not laughing. I'm relieved," he explained. You looked for any signs of mockery, but his eyes were truthful and soft.

"Relieved?" you frowned.

"Yeah. I-I thought I was the only one having a kind of block," he looked down to his notes and that was when you noticed the messy paragraphs the crossed ideas, the lines and arrows that tried to connect everything.

You gave Coriolanus a tight-lipped smile. He was right. It was somewhat relieving to know that your only real threat was having a hard time like you were.

"Hey, I've got an idea."

His voice pulled you out of your thoughts. Oh hell no. No idea Coriolanus could want to share with you would turn out great.

"Shoot"

"I think we should partner up for the project," he bluntly said.

"Pardon?" you asked raising your brows. You really thought that you hadn't heard him correctly.

"Yeah, I mean, think about it. We both have a lot of ideas but feel something missing. We-we could help each other out!" Coriolanus clarified, somewhat flustered. "We'd win the prize and split it. Highbottom said the proposal could be submitted by pairs. If we do this together, we'll be unstoppable."

You blinked twice, digesting his words like you couldn't believe they were real.

"I think that's the worst idea I've ever heard."

Coriolanus scoffed. "Right, because you're so well known for your good ideas."

True. Though being a straight A's, perfect student, you had a certain fire inside you that had given you a reckless and flaming reputation.

"I'm in."

You were back in the library the next day, only this time you were sitting in your spot, and Coriolanus was besides you. You had been sitting in silence for the past fifteen minutes, reading the other's anotations and doodles.

When you finished, you leaned back into you seat, stretching your neck and pushing loose strands of hair behind your ears.

"So?" Coriolanus inquired when he noticed you were done. "What do you think?"

"I'm... surprised," you told him, chin resting on your hand as you looked at him. "It's almost identical to mine."

He chuckled. "Yeah, that's what I was noticing. I guess great minds think alike, right?"

"Could be, or you just copied me," you said. Coriolanus sneered and you saw the complains forming behind his lips, so you were quick to clarify. "I was joking, Snow. It seems we're not so different."

"Or you just copied me" he mocked, using your words from earlier.

"You wish," you smile, scoffing in a playful manner.

"Hey, what was it that you were unhappy with about your ideas? Because I think they're pretty great," Coriolanus asked, handing your notes back to you.

"They don't make sense to me. I couldn't come up with a way to connect it all," you shrugged. "Maybe we shouldn't use all of this, I don't know."

The entire day was spent between countless bickering and snacks, you and Coriolanus discussing the project and how insufferable the other was, shielded by the brimful shelves and the hushed conversations between students.

Over the next few days, your begrudging meetings with Coriolanus continued, each session marked by a mixture of tension and reluctant cooperation. The library became your unofficial battleground, the hallowed halls witnessing the clash of two strong-willed minds.

As you both settled into your usual spot once again, there was a palpable air of wariness. However, you couldn't help but notice a subtle change in Coriolanus. He seemed more open to discussion, his usually stoic facade occasionally cracking to reveal a hint of vulnerability. The topics ranged from the project at hand to personal interests, and amidst the disagreements, you discovered shared preferences and surprisingly similar perspectives.

By the first week, a sort of unspoken truce had settled between you. The bickering had mellowed into a more civilized exchange of ideas. Coriolanus, despite his initial resistance, began to respect your opinions and even admitted to finding some merit in your perspectives. You, in turn, acknowledged the sharp intellect beneath his icy exterior. Shared laughter became more frequent, often catching both of you off guard.

Throughout these encounters, the library transformed from a battlefield to a space of reluctant collaboration. Despite the lingering differences, a strange sense of partnership emerged. The once insufferable project discussions turned into an exploration of each other's intellect, and with each passing day, the library witnessed the evolution of an unexpected connection between two seemingly incompatible souls.

Your bag hit the leg of the table as you slipped in your chair, the blond taking the seat next to you. A soft thud was heard, along with something rolling. You were going to duck down to reach it, but Coriolanus was already grabbing it.

"Hey, are these yours?" Coriolanus asked, holding a bottle of pills.

Your eyes widened. Your mom's medicines. You reached inside your bag to check if the bottle you had picked up from the chemist's before school was still there. It wasn't.

"Yeah. Well- my mom's."

He handed the bottle to you, whcih you were quick to put back in your bag.

"Is she okay? Not like it's any of my business, but those pills are like one of the strongest shits ever," he frowned.

Taking a deep breath, you explained, "She's not. She hasn't been for quite a while. And the doctors don't say much, but it isn't looking good."

"I- um, I'm sorry," he stammered, looking down. "If you or her ever need anything, you know you can talk to me, right?"

You nodded, leg bouncing up and down.

"Here," he said, scribbling down something on a ripped piece of paper. "My address. If you ever need it."

"Thank you," you looked into his eyes, words barely a whisper. "I really appreciate it."

His knee bumped yours, like soothing it down, keeping it steady. "Anytime," he smiled.

You gave him an awkward smile, looking away.

The green folder, clutched tightly in your arms, contained the first draft of yours and Coriolanus' design for the Hunger Games. You both were going to introduce it to Dean Highbottom, since you needed to inform him of who formed your team and some other information. Then, he would grant the two of you an interview with Dr. Gaul.

Once, Coriolanus had referred to the folder as 'your baby'. You had given him a blank stare for a second before the two of you broke down in laughter.

Mindlessly turning around a corner, you bumped into someone's shoulder. A pair of arms caught your own, steadying you, keeping you from falling.

"Whoa, sorry-"

The folder. You quickly stepped back, freeing the folder from being crushed any further. Compulsively checking if the folder was okay, you failed to identify the pair of arms that had held you seconds before.

It was okay. Your baby was okay.

"So sorry, I- Coriolanus?" you asked as you finally lifted your gaze. "I thought you were coming by later?"

"Couldn't wait. I was actually looking for you. I just saw Dean Highbottom enter his office. Campus is pretty deserted, so I'd say we could be the first ones."

A soft smile graced his face.

"Shall we then?" you posed the courtsy question playfully.

"We shall"

The two of you made your way to the Dean's office, gushing about the project like two schoolgirls. Grades and rivalry were not brought up once. Perhaps just because you wanted the day to be perfect.

After knocking on Dean Highbottom's door and hearing a 'come in', Coriolanus opened the door and both of you came in.

"Look who it is! Snow and Y/l/n. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes", the Dean greeted you.

Coriolanus and you shared a glance before giving the Dean a polite smile.

"Are you here about the project?"

"We are," you answered, gesturing to the green folder in your hands.

"As in the two of you are submitting the proposal together?" the bearded man asked, raising his eyebrows. When Coriolanus nodded, he let out a chuckle. "I thought I wouldn't live to see the day."

You offered an awkward smile as you and the blond sat in the seats before the Dean's desk. You silently handed him your folder. After opening it and browsing through the various concepts and sketches, Dean Highbottom closed the folder, tapping his figertips against it.

Nervousness gnawed your insides, your leg bouncing up and down in anxiety. You hadn't even noticed this, too caught up into thinking the absolute worst of the situation; until you felt a knee- his knee- press into yours. Suddenly very aware of what was happening outside your mind, you blinked once, as to come back into reality, and then again, swifting your eyes to Coriolanus besides you.

For a moment, just a moment, you saw only a pair of eyes that guaranteed comfort peering into yours, crowned by the softests of golden curls. And then you saw the snarky comments, the whole usurping-your-place scheme, the perfect grades and the annoyingly pitched voice. The smile froze on your lips. Fuck.

"So," the Dean's voice broke the silence. "Are you two dating yet? Because it would really benefit you"

Both your head and his snapped into the Dean's direction.

"Pardon?!"

"What?"

Two pairs of eyes now looked wide and with a mix of disbelief and annoyance at the Dean.

"I take it you're not." No shit.

You were still too astounded to speak. What did he mean yet? He was your proffesor. He should, must, know that everything between the two of you is rivalry. Right?

"What, um, what did you mean it would benefit us?" Coriolanus asked, his voice as thin as thread.

"Well I eyed your proposal. And it's good. More than good. It has a lot of potential. But Volumnia Gaul loves one thing more than her creations. Gossip. Drama. If she hears the two of you are dating, she'll make you the Capitol's power couple. She'll give you a story. You will become her favourites. If you want to win at all costs, I'm just giving you a shortcut." He stared at the pair in front of him."But, overall, you've done a great work. I'll leave you to ponder it and I'll alert you when Dr Gaul is ready to see you."

You nodded, as Coriolanus and you mumbled 'thank you's and 'goodbye's and 'have a nice day's before leaving the office.

Campus wasn't very crowded yet; only a couple of students could be seen lurking around. The morning still preserved its coldness, dew remained on the grass.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you started walking, the blond boy quick to catch up.

You hated how you got caught up in this mess. All because you and him needed help. And because he and you were the only answer to the other's problem.

"Y/n?" Coriolanus spoke softly. "How do you feel... about what the Dean said?"

Sighing, you replied, "I just don't know. I mean, this was all crazy before but now? I'm confused, I guess."

"Don't you think it can help us even more?" he frowned.

"But we don't need any more help. We joined forces, no one can beat us, there's no need for us to-"

"I know we can do it without Gaul's help. But it’s one thing to win this aid, and another thing to become Gaul’s favourites. Do you realise how many doors she could open for us?” Coriolanus had stopped both of you now, his body blocking your way, hands in your shoulders, eyes fixed on yours.

“C’mon, Y/n, it’s just pretending,” he pleaded. “Plus, we’re in this to help each other out, right?”

A warm smile spread over his lips, one that only encouraged you and painted a smile of your own on your mouth.

“Fine. We’ll do this lunatic shit. Since you’re not able to reach my level without my help,” you teased, moving past him and resuming your way.

“Sure, Y/n. Whatever makes you sleep at night!” you heard Snow shout behind you.

You just gave him the finger, biting back a smile as you walked away.

The news spread like wildfire through the campus. The dean's offhand comment had ignited a storm of speculation and gossip. As you navigated through the university halls, it was impossible to ignore the curious glances and hushed conversations that followed you.

The library, once your sanctuary of academic warfare, now became the epicenter of buzzing rumors. Students stole glances at you and Coriolanus, whispering behind cupped hands as you pretended not to notice. The atmosphere had shifted, and your every move seemed to be scrutinized under an invisible magnifying glass.

Your next meeting at the library felt different. The air was thick with unspoken words, and the weight of the rumors hung in the room. As you both delved into your project, the tension was palpable. Every accidental touch or shared smile now carried an added layer of significance.

By the third week, the rumors had taken a life of their own. The once reluctant collaboration now felt like an uncomfortable alliance, forged not just for academic success but to navigate the newfound attention. Your life, once a sheltering and private, now felt like a fishbowl.

The doors that led to Gaul's lab appeared impossibly big. You let out a shaky breath, one you didn't know you were holding. Bouncing your leg usually was how you showed your nerves, but, since you were standing, you settled with just a trembling pinky finger.

Cold fingers were wrapping around your hand before you knew it.

"What are you doing?" you turned to Coriolanus.

"Gaul's no fool. We have to put on our best efforts to make her believe we are together. You have to help, too. And your hands were shaking," he shrugged.

Taking a deep breath, you swallowed his words and leaned further into his arm, clinging to him like a good girlfriend would.

As if on cue, the door swung open, revealing brown and blue eyes shooting a daring look. The woman’s face was instantly lit up with a smirk.

“Coriolanus Snow and Y/n Y/l/n. The sweethearts Dean Highbottom has told me so much about,” Volumnia Gaul greeted the both of you. “Please, come inside.”

She stepped aside to let you in. The ceiling seemed to be miles away from the floor. White, ivory columns welcomed you, glass cabinets displaying all sorts of weird creatures and experiments.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Gaul commented behind you.

There was just something so... unsettling about her, something you couldn't quite place but that was ticking you off

It's for the better.

That had been your mantra for the past few days. The end justifies the means. You kept telling yourself that you didn't want this, that you were only doing this for convinience. But lately you hadn't really been feeling that way. Not when you were sitting right next to him, laughing mere seconds ago, his eyes staring into yours, not trying to intimidate you but more in an attentive way.

He thought you looked so delicate and alluring. You did often, as of late. There were a few stray strands of hair that hid your dashing smile from Coriolanus. A smile he had so recently grown so fond of.

He just couldn't resist the urge to tuck them behind your ear; his fingers a soft caress against your skin. And so he did.

His touch was feather-like, as if you were a porcelain doll that was about to break. At the sudden contact, you shifted your gaze from the papers on the table to look at him. And, god, you almost wish you hadn’t. Because he looked otherworldly just sitting there besides you, hand behind your ear, lips parted slightly, dangerously close to you.

“Your hair was getting in your eye,” he mumbled.

The proximity was going to kill you. He was invading all of your senses. And you hated it. You hated it because this wasn’t even real. It was just supposed to help you with Gaul, nothing more. You hated it because it didn’t feel that way. You hated it because this was not the Coriolanus you knew; not the Coriolanus you chose to know.

“Thanks,” you breathed.

You were scared. As pure and simple as that. This was uncharted territory for you; you had never seen this part of him. It frightened you because you were losing control over your emotions.

"Coryo..."

He was convinced you were goingo to give into his desires. You were convinced for a moment, too. But then it occurred to you that this wasn't supposed to be real. That whatever you had between you both was just a scheme. That he was just joking.

"What did you score on the last biology exam?"

You mentally cursed yourself as soon as the words left your mouth. You felt yourself involuntarily slipping away from his touch.

“100%,” he responded, frowning. “Why?”

“Guess all these time around me wasn’t enough. I got 102%,” you smiled, trying to sound (hoping to sound) less awkward than you sounded in your head.

“How’s that even possible? I thought there were no extra exercises.”

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat before continuing. “I detailed every answer more than it was needed, so.”

“Oh. Well, congrats.” His lips were pressed into a thin line that he tried to transform into a smile, but ended up just contorting his face.

You looked at the papers before you, laying in a mess on the table, surrounded by pencils, sticky notes and highlighters. Then your eyes peered at the window besides your spot. The sun was setting behind the Capitol’s skyline, painting golden and rosy hues over the library. It was getting late.

“I- I think I should go. I’d better go home before it darkens.”

Coriolanus nodded. "Cool. I'm gonna get going too."

You bit your lip as you stood up, gathering your work. Not another word was uttered until you noticed the librarian peering over at you from behind some shelves, and students at the end of the aisle were turning their heads to you.

Perks of being Gaul’s favourite couple, you supposed.

You leaned to Coriolanus’ level again, pulling him into a side hug as you whispered in his ear.

“They’re looking.”

And then, you pressed a kiss to his forehead and walked out.

Too overwhelmed thinking about that moment with Coriolanus, you missed the way his eyes stayed on you until you left the library, and the way his fingers lingered on the part of his forehead that had been in touch with your lips.

The thought of him plagued your mind as you made your way home. Not even the biting cold of the evening could take the warmth spreading over your cheeks. What was going on with you? He was the guy you hated, you used to hate, the one that was trying to take over your spot.

But your attempts to convince yourself were vain. Because you no longer felt raging hate when you thought of Coriolanus. You couldn't excatly pin what it was, but it was definitely not hatred.

Reaching inside you bag for the key of your family apartment, you sighed, as if that was going to clear and sort out your messy feelings. Yet you didn't even need to open the door, for it was opened swiftly in front of you.

"Y/n!" your father pulled you in. The frown between his brows, the worry reflected in his eyes, the way he held you. Something was not right.

"Dad, what's wrong? I-"

"It's your mom, she- she started to cough so much blood. She's unconscious now, I- I was just about to take her to the hospital."

"Oh my God." Tears stung in your eyes. You knew she was bad, worse than she'd ever been, but this was far from what the doctors had informed you about. "Shit, where's Deena?"

"Your sister's staying over at a friend's. Is there anyone who can take you for the night? Someone who knew about your mother, if it makes you more comfortable?" he asked, rubbing your arm.

Coriolanus. You hated that he was the first person to come to mind, but the truth was thas this project had swept you up from practically every other aspect of your life. You hadn't seen your best friends much, since they were also focused on their projects. Most of your time had been spent with Coriolanus. And you didn't know how to feel about that. Disgusted, you supposed. But that didn't quite match the tugging in your chest whenever you met him at the library, or the calmness that took over you when his knee pressed into your anxiously bouncing one.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think so," you nodded, blinking the tears away, though they slid down your cheeks anyway.

"Good. I don't think it'd be good for you to be alone right now."

You hurriedly packed your essentIals and some extra clothes, making your way to the door. You held it open for your dad as he carried your mother.

"I'll see you soon. Be safe, Y/n," he whispered.

"You too, Dad."

You tried your hardest not to break down as you saw your father making his way to the doctor's with your mom in his arms.

But once he was out of sight, you rushed out of the filthy apartment building. As you ran through the Capitol's streets, you remembered the now wrinkled paper that he had written his address on.

"Here. My address. If you ever need it."

It sat scrunched in your coat's pocket. You kept running as your trembling hands unfolded it, and quickened your pace once you'd read the address.

You arrived at his door short of breath, cheeks reddened from the effort, tears dried from the wind. Your knuckles softly knocked at his door.

Mess. You felt like a mess. Everything you had known to this day seemed to have completely flipped around, changing everything all of a sudden. Your mind was a tangled, impossible knot of thoughts and feelings and emotions that were constantly contradicting each other.

A blonde girl opened the front door. To your blurry eyes, she looked like an angel.

"Can I help you?" she kindly prompted, a concerned frown appearing in between her brows.

"Yeah- I'm looking for Coriolanus?" you said, voice on the point of breaking.

"Come in, he'll be right here," the woman spoke, stepping aside so you could come in and closing the door right after. She sat you down on an armchair, her touch gentle and tender. "Coryo! Someone's here for you."

As soon as the words left her mouth, you heard footsteps tumbling down the hallway and into the entrance. The instant his eyes met yours, he put everything else aside. His sole focus was you. The red around your eyes, eyelashes glinting from the recent caress of tears, shaky hands, bottom lip between your teeth, and your leg bouncing up and down almost uncontrollably.

He wanted to hold you forever. Take you in his arms like you were a fragile flower, yet the most fierce of them all. Rivalry long forgotten and buried, mean comments and hurtful offenses forgiven without a second thought. He saw Y/n. Not perfect grades, not snarky remarks, not an opponent. Just Y/n. Sweet, sweet, Y/n.

And you didn't see Coriolanus Snow. The blond standing in front of you now was not the one you'd been fighting for the better part of your teenage years, even before. He was not the one competing against you. Who was him then, if not the Coriolanus Snow you had known all your life?

Coryo.

"Y/n, hey, hey, what's wrong?" he asked, voice surprisingly soft, even for his cousin. He crouched down, placing a cold, calming hand on your fidgety leg.

You could feel the tears welling up again, because he was there for you.

“I… I’m going to head out,” the woman said. “I’ll be back in a while.”

Coriolanus muttered a goodbye and then she was gone. And as soon as she was, you broke down.

Burying your head in your hands, tears burnt past your eyes, flowing now freely. All that could be heard were your heavy, shaky breaths. His hand on your back, tracing small circles, made you pull your head up.

Fuck, why were you even here?

"Y/n?"

"It's my mom." You tried to dry your cheeks, only for tears to fall down again. "She-she lost consciousness. The doctors didn't even say she was that bad. And I.. I just arrived there and there was nothing I could do-" your voice broke before you could finish the sentence.

He instantly pulled you into a hug, your head hidden in the crook of his neck, arms around it. One of his hands was wrapped around your torso, safely drawing you to him, while the other was tangled in your hair.

"I am so, so, sorry," he whispered, breath tickling your ear. You only clinged to him tighter; the only thing on your mind other than your mother right then was how warm and guarded you felt in his arms.

When you finally retracted to look at him, you found your body almost leaning into him again, yearning for his embrace. You inhaled sharply.

"I'm by your side no matter what, okay?" he assured you, eyes piercing yours, hands sliding up your figure to cup your face. "I'm here for you."

You did your best to gather yourself and nod at his words. But then you felt him pulling away in the slightest. No. You wanted him close. You wanted him.

You rose a hand to his neck, fingers dancing along his skin, messing with the blond curls they could reach.

"Hey, Y/n," Coriolanus called out. "She's going to make it. She'll be okay. And so will you."

A knot formed in your throat, the prequel to infinite tears, because who was him and what was he doing to your heart?

Whatever prejudice or thought you had against him was blurrying in your mind. The person he was supposed to represent in your head was further and further from the one barely inches away from you now. And then it hit you. Right then, right there. It didn't scare you. You wanted to know this person. You wanted to give the both of you a second consideration under different lightning.

And so, you closed the gap between Coriolanus and you, as he had tried and wanted so bad to do mere hours before. His lips were warm, contrary to every other part of his body you had ever been in contact with.

For a fraction of second, he hesitated, frozen in his spot, convincing himself that this was happening, that this was real, that you were real. But once he kissed back, he just couldn't let you go.

His hands were suddenly everywhere, exploring your body and drawing you to him as he kissed you, all the desire and passion (and even the resentment, too) poured into the kiss. Coriolanus wanted to make you feel okay. Not just now. But 'now' would have to do as of that moment. And if this was how you wanted the pain to go away, so be it. Fingers digging in your hips made you leave out a mixture of a gasp and a moan, which Coriolanus used to slip his tongue inside your mouth. Everthing he did got you addicted, craving more.

You had both been sitting on the floor, but now you were climbing into his lap, pulling away for the smallest of seconds, but either way Coriolanus was quick to reunite your lips again. Your mouths danced together. Your sking tingled pleasantly under his touch; a constant fire travelling beneath his fingers. But when his hand raised to your cheek, checking for the trace of any new tears. It was simply enough to melt you on the spot.

Tugging at his hair, you angled his face to leave a trace of open-mouthed kisses along his jaw. His groan reverberated through your skin.

The pain was buried somewhere in your mind, but your heart didn’t ache in that moment; he was all your senses were taking in. And you felt safe.

© heartcereql, 2023 || thank you for reading ! 𓆩 ♱ 𓆪

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[aajjks]

Gojo Saturo as your Boyfriend (m)

note. HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY DADDY I LOVE YOU SATORUUUUU

warnings. MËNTÏÖNS ÖF SĒX, swêêt göjö, lövěsïck göjö, mèntïöns öf jêâlöüsy.

having THEE gojo satoru as your boyfriend is an experience of lifetime for sure, it’s a whole fucking adventure.

And he’s not the typical type of a boyfriend, nah. He is satoru after all. He is hot and he knows that.

He’s a man who knows what he wants, and what he wants is you. So he is going to be very straightforward, of course he’s a confident man and he knows that he can charm you.

Who can resist that smile of his?

Truth is that Gojo will cherish you a lot, he is a very passionate lover, very sweet but cocky.

He will worship the ground you walk on but he is also very secure in himself.

He’s the type to notice the little things. He will definitely remember your birthday, your one month anniversary together, the day you both held hands for the first time and he’s really sneaky about it too.

Like he will play dumb infront of you, he would pretend like he has NO clue to what you’re talking about inside, he knows.

And he’s got a whole plan in his mind.

He just loves to surprise you.

He is the type to say you’re cute and he will compliment you on the most random of times. “Toru… hmm the food is good..” you’ll say while focusing on your food and he’s already staring at you.

“You’re so pretty yn.” WHILE YOU ARE LITERALLY EATING YOUR FOOD IN YOUR PYJAMAS.

And HIS EYES OH MY GOD.

They ARE MAGIC.

“Yn do you like my eyes?” See, he is a SUCKER for giving compliments and RECEIVING them too. And he’s not even shy to seek validation or attention from you.

He’s like tinkerbell you have to give him your attention or he’ll die.

“Yn oh my God yn give me your attention already, I feel like I’m suffocating.” He’d whine…. With his eyes all wide avd round, his lips curled up in a pout.

He’s is a baby in a man’s body sometimes.

He is a big sucker for cuddles, his hands will be all over your body, squeezing your skin, peppering butterfly kisses.

And he’s not shy to show you affection or how much he’s missed you. He’s the type to gush and brag about you to his friends x

And now when it comes to him being jealous, he’s often jealous, but harmless like pouting avd sulking if you sing give him attention or priorities your work over him

But when it comes to you receiving attention from people other than him… that bothers him.

“Hmm ynnnn… you are mine yeah?” His aura would shift completely cus he’s mostly cheery add cocky, annoying or affectionate.

But there are times where he’d just… feel threatened, you are everything to him and he doesn’t want to loose you.

And he makes that obvious through sex.

Your body is a temple and he’s going to worship it like his life depends on it.

Your pleasure = his pleasure.

Gojo Satoru is an addict, he can fuck you forever, he can eat you out forever. He can die between your legs.

And he even hopes that he will.

Gojo can be very rough, if frustrated, or jealous.

He will mark your body up, and he will cum in you raw, he will pull on your hair and will ask you to dig your nails into his back.

He’s an aggressive kisser, all teeth and tongue.

And he’s the type to smile in between kisses.

SEDUCTION MASTER. He will mostly be the one to initiate sex, he can’t sleep? Cockwarm him. you can’t sleep? He’s going to fuck you with his fingers.

He will love for you to check him out, he loves to know from your mouth just how desirable or and pretty he is.

CHECK HIM OUUUTTT

In short saturo is a great lover and a lovesick puppy. He will cherish you a lot.

#gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #yandere gojo #yandere satoru #yandere satoru gojo #gojo smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere smut #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #jjk fluff #saturo smut #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

[ne-videl]

𝓾𝓷𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓪𝓵 𝓶𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓰𝓮

♡

yandere Poseidon x fem reader

hide your tears and smile, little goddess.

yandere, unhealthy relationships, objectification, angst, power imbalance, depressed reader, forced marriage, poor english, sfw. first half – Poseidon's pov, then yours.

word count: ~1.5k

a/n: hii everyone!! how have you been? I have no ideas. like, absolutely. art block I guess?? anyway, have some of my old stuff. this is my least favorite yandere trope, but I love angst, so sometimes I go for it. by the way, when I first started it, I wanted to write a super idolized fluff but... well, we have what we have, or "why you don't want to marry Poseidon". hehe big booba man hehehe

the endless ocean is noisy outside the huge windows.

today, the sea sings a memorial service for you.

two people at the altar – the god and his bride.

Poseidon wants to smile rapaciously at her shaking figure.

she's afraid, poor thing. who wouldn't be afraid? he is, after all, the god of all gods, known for his cruel and merciless temper, the lord of the seas.

and she will become his lady very soon.

[name].

her name spreads like ambrosia across his lips.

even her name is so ordinary, so human, as, indeed, everything else about his charming wife.

she was a priestess in Poseidon's temple: in his own, so there's nothing wrong in taking what was already his. he noticed her by accident.

[name] was sitting hunched over, touching some bright flowers with her bruised palms. he liked to visit this temple sometimes: it was quiet and peaceful in the atrium, noisy humans did not flicker before his eyes.

little human girl did not even flinch when he silently stood next to her, only continued to look with big and very sad eyes at the colorful flower bed.

at their second meeting, she greeted him.

at the third time, she dared to start an idle conversation.

the fourth, and she talked about life in the temple.

at the fifth time she asked why he was coming here.

Poseidon always stood silently next to her, looming over her like a suffocating shadow. he was amused by her chattering, and, unexpectedly for himself, found her presence soothing, pleasant, unlike other humans, the mere sight of whom made the eye of the deity twitch.

life was bad for her in the temple.

[name] told him, she was sent to this place when she was still a girl, and she spent her whole life by the cold blue sea.

new head of the temple did not like her, saying that there was nothing for women to do here. that she should get married, but who needs her?

Poseidon saw the marks of beatings on her girlish body.

so he took her with him. she served in temple made in his name, spent her short life at his domain – it is quite natural that she will become his wife.

of course, it is unheard of that god marries a human – but does he really need someone's approval?

ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______

Hades advised to propose to her. it's the way humans do it.

Poseidon did not ask for her consent, for him it was just a formality: of course she would say yes, he was sure.

he will dress her in the finest silks, she will own the most beautiful jewels on all Olympus, the sea itself would be at her feet – how could a human girl want more?

smile spreads across his face as he sees her eyes widen, as she begins to shake – no doubt, from embarrassment – and his palm rests protectively on top of her head.

of course she agreed, how could it be any other way?

his fiancee is incredibly sweet. but weak and naive at the same time, like the rest of the human race. but he will protect her, give her a better life.

she must be very grateful to him.

ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______

Poseidon remembers their wedding well, how [name] looked in amazement at the beauty of Atlantis, at the greatness of his seas.

in white robes, with downcast eyes, she swore an oath binding her life forever to a cruel deity, accompanied by singing of nymphs and the sound of the ocean.

she was now a goddess herself, whether she wanted to or not. of course, she wanted to, it couldn't be any other way. she loves him.

and, as the new lady of the seas, she will spend her now eternal life by his side. Poseidon will make sure of this no matter what.

she fearfully puts her small palm into his, while he, her husband, leads her through the corridors of the palace. [name] is silent. probably still embarrassed.

from now on, she will be the most beautiful ornament of his possessions, the shining pearl of Atlantis – his precious property, belonging only to him. and the sparkling ring on her tiny finger was proof.

ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______

"wife." – [name] immediately turns around, smiles, comes closer.

his hand rests on her waist, his grip firm, possessively strong. she doesn't notice.

or pretends not to notice.

over time, [name] got used to him, cheered up, blossomed. it couldn't have been any other way, right?

songs, dances appeared, bright flowers and ringing laughter in the cold and empty corridors.

she became friends with his brothers, was able to conquer the proud Aphrodite, whom she now called her friend with visible joy.

Poseidon is pleased to consider himself a good husband.

he loves to see his wife smiling, laughing.

even if it's not just with him. it's better to be patient for a while, he thinks, than to lose her cheerful chatting for the whole evening.

though, she's cute even when she's angry.

Poseidon was gentle with her. allowed her much, much more than others, even spoiled her. [name] was his wife, after all, so he had to make sure she looked good enough.

he's a good husband.

[name] never contradicted him, never raised her adorable voice at him, never was not too selfish.

although deep down, he would like her to become more spoiled. so that, like him, she would not tolerate anyone's presence, except, of course, her husband.

to think of it, why would she need anyone besides him? she can be quite happy within the walls of the palace.

Poseidon dismissed these thoughts from himself – for some reason, his wife liked to be in society, even if without him.

well, he's willing to put up with her quirks as long as she knows who should come first for her.

ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______

the outfit given by Aphrodite was very becoming to his spouse. Poseidon loved to see her beautiful.

in luxurious clothes, undoubtedly worthy of the wife of a sea god, or in the warm candlelight in the night darkness of their shared bedroom, happy or shedding tears, [name] was equally beautiful.

the precious treasure of Atlantis.

he was never moved by her tears – even if she was crying, of course she loved him anyway. [name] is happy. so why make a big deal about it?

none of the pathetic mortals could take care of her like he did. none of them would love her the way he does.

"you are my wife. you're not going anywhere."

ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______

you didn't tell anyone about your sorrow: didn't share it with anyone – neither with Aphrodite, nor with the nymphs and mermaids, your husband's brothers remained in the dark too.

a little human girl shedding tears by the huge waves.

an unhappy goddess, forever imprisoned in an cold palace, surrounded by hypocritical deities, in the iron grip of an unloved husband, eaten alive by sadness and suffocating hopelessness of her position.

none of them saw you as an equal: you were only a curious little thing, a way to dispel eternal divine boredom, and the Olympians, of course, did not bother to hide this fact.

you didn't know what your husband found in you, and you didn't want to. sometimes you wished that back then, many, many years ago, he would have left you in that temple, or that you would run from the garden in terror, or anything. anything.

ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______

you knew your place well.

by his side, always, no matter what. from the very day when you stood at the altar and did not dare to raise your eyes to your fiance, you were no longer anything human.

from that moment, you became an ornament, a property, a beautiful doll. nothing more.

Poseidon wanted to see you happy – and you smiled, laughed, you did everything that you thought he would like.

are you satisfied? please tell me you're happy. I'm scared.

scared.

your husband allowed you the freedom he thought his property could have, and you greedily soaked up every drop of it.

you're lucky, you told yourself, you're very, very lucky. It could have been worse. any other girl would give her soul to be in your place, – repeated, looking at your own reflection in the cold glitter of jewelry.

you must be like it yourself. a thing. a thing, of course, must have an owner, and a thing cannot be sad.

Poseidon's cold hand rests on your waist, pulls you into his arms, and you do not allow yourself to resist: you exhale into his neck, placing your small palms on his broad back.

your spouse is purring contentedly.

he's happy. you can relax a little.

ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______

sea nymphs comb your hair, weave pearls into thin braids, fold strands into an intricate hairstyle.

"what's bothering you, madam?" – the lady of the seas does not bother to answer, your dead calm gaze wanders over the high ceilings, walls and huge windows of your chambers.

a common topic of idle conversation among the Olympians was Poseidon's boundless adoration for his charming wife. cruel god who fell in love with a mere mortal – what a beautiful story.

even the ocean itself seemed to dote on you. whenever the warm waves caressed your feet on the coast, your dried-up insides were filled with melancholy. your body was here, in Atlantis, which became a prison for you, and your soul, which remained to pain in your chest human, floated far away. your tired mind wandered, and you are a little girl again, and once again the bright sun warms your childishly plump cheeks, and in your hands are colorful flowers, and the kind grandpa from the temple strokes your head.

Poseidon will be coming for you soon – as always.

as always, you will talk about something, laugh, sitting on his lap in the throne room. or in one of the living rooms, or in the bedroom – you were not allowed to leave him without permission.

you flinched when you felt his strong hand on your shoulder.

Poseidon smirked.

his wife is not going anywhere. she will stay with him.

forever.

not the best one of my works but uh well I felt like posting something

maaybe will be deleted since it doesn't look as good as I thought it would be in english

btw thinking about writing tartaglia fic soo the next one is probably gonna be genshin man again

thanks for reading!!

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #record of ragnarok #ror #record of ragnarok x reader #poseidon x reader #yandere poseidon #record of ragnarok poseidon #misha.writes #yandere

[strawberri-elixir]

╰⇢ Nagi as your boyfriend!

A/N: I’ve never done something like this but I hope you enjoy it! This is my first time posting so please take it easy on me!

Spoiler: These are just headcanons so don’t come at me if you don’t like some of these

⭑ You fell first but he fell harder

⭑ He always thought relationships were too much effort and that you would just be someone to pass time with

⭑ But the more time he spent with you, the harder he fell

⭑ He craves physical touch with you

⭑ Adores hugs

⭑ He loves to play games in his room while having at least one part of his body touching you

⭑ Favourite pass time is cuddling with you

⭑ Sometimes, he’ll pull you out to an empty field and kick a ball with you

⭑ After a long day, the only thing he can think about is falling asleep in your warm embrace

⭑ He always insists on you watching his games. He says he plays better when he knows you’re watching

“You’re coming right? I need you there.” He faced you as he grabbed his soccer bag and got ready to leave, hoping you’d walk with him to the pitch and watch his match.

“Yeah I am.” You threw on a hoodie and followed him out the door.

“Good… you’re my good luck charm.”

⭑ He’ll give you his jersey to wear in the stands so people know that you’re his partner

“They need to know you’re mine…”

⭑ You better believe he’s clingy behind closed doors

⭑ He’s the type to get rather possessive when he’s jealous

⭑ One time he saw you talking to a guy who was getting a little too close for comfort and it just set him off

“Nagi… what are you doing?” You’re currently sitting in your bed watching your boyfriend play games on his console. Only, he had his legs wrapped around your waist and leaned his head on your shoulders as the screen flashed in front of you.

“Mmm…” Was the only sound he let out as his grip on you only tightened with each passing minute.

You had no idea what had gotten into him. Ever since the two of you got back from the mall, Nagi was all over you and you had no idea why. “Tell me what’s wrong.” You tried to coax the answer out of him.

“I saw some guy talking to you…” He mumbled into your shoulder. You thought for a second before recalling an instance where someone had come up to you in an attempt to hit on you. Although you shot him down rather quickly, the encounter was still enough for Nagi to get clingy.

“You know I only have eyes for you.” You give him a quick kiss before turning your attention back to his console. It’s not much but the reassurance means a lot to him.

⭑ He may not put much effort into many things, but for you, he’s willing to go to great lengths to make sure you’re happy

⭑ He’ll bring you flowers, sweets, and little trinkets he sees that remind him of you

⭑ The type who loves seeing you where his hoodies because he thinks you look adorable

⭑ His favourite date is to go to the convenience store and buy snacks with you before going back home and watching a movie or game with you

⭑ Remembers what you order when the two of you go on dates or go to a cafe and uses said knowledge to get you food when he visits you

⭑ He would pick up on little mannerisms of yours and find them adorable

~ Please do not repost on other platforms! ~

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #nagi seishiro #nagi scenarios #nagi x reader #nagi x you #blue lock imagines #headcanon #strawberri-elixir

[espinosaurusrexex]

Hopelessly Devoted

BuckyBarnes x Reader

summary: It's so simple sometimes. You meet the right person, and it all falls into place. Bucky never imagined he'd get this lucky. So what better way to remember it than on the second-best day of his life?

a/n: Hi, this is me describing every Bucky fangirl’s experience ever… and then a little more. This might be a song imagine? I don’t know, it’s heavily inspired at least.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none, really, none - everything is good here, stay as long as you like 💕 - fluff

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ

consider listening to: Butterflies (feat. AURORA) - Tom Odell

“Hi, I’m Bucky.”

That was all it took. That was it. Three simple words and you were at a loss for yours. 

He had that charm hidden in the corner of his smile and still evident even now. A confident smugness is etched on his features when he flirts with you. But you have learned that it is not just there, in the dark edges of his lips. It is in the crinkles of his eyes when he laughs, too. It is in the touch of his fingertips when they stroke over your skin. And it is in the whisper of his voice when he mumbles sweet nothings into your ear. 

‘Follow me.’ He’d say, dragging you down alleyways in Brooklyn and telling you stories upon stories of his and Steve’s adventures a hundred years ago. And you would listen, hang onto his lips like sugar, eyes big and wondrous in childlike admiration. Bucky would tell you every little detail, simply because he loves seeing the expressions on your face turn. You listen to him - actually, listen. And while he’d been in positions like this in his life before, especially as a Sergeant, he has never experienced this kind of attention. Your listening is laced with adoration and love and respect and awe and so many more beautiful things that prevent him from ever stopping to tell you about his past. 

He is not that open, normally. Not towards many people, at least. And you know that, which is why you also have a tinge of gratefulness within your attention. It is also the reason you let him talk for hours. Even if sleep fights to overtake your mind, even if you have important things to do, even if the world would come crashing down, you’d listen to him. Because Bucky is special.

It didn’t take long for you to realize just how special he is to you. But it sure took some time for you to say something. 

Months of pining and watching him from corners of the room, wishing you were in his arms instead. They’re warm and strong, and the kisses that accompany them when he encases you in them hold so many promises. 

Now he’s yours. And he’s about to make that promise forever.

❁ ❁ ❁

Klick, klick... bam!

There, it happened.

He’s in love. Just like that - clicked into place like the puzzle piece he never knew he missed. 

It is a little scary, but who cares when it feels like that? Like thunder and warm tea, like cuts and soothing kisses, like... butterflies. But wild ones, the ones brave enough to fly out in the storm. He’s invincible when he’s with you. There is nothing holding him back from being on top of the world. And it's the strangest feeling, really. 

There are no more empty heartbeats pumping cool blood through a body he was sure has died many years ago. The second you look at him, all of him comes back to life. He is able to experience living again. And he wants to do it with you - over and over again. God, people have told him how incredible this feeling is, but experiencing it is like unlocking a different part of himself. Sometimes Bucky feels as though he’s watching someone else’s life. And he’s just a random passerby that gets to experience a glimpse of his dream. But then your fingers graze his skin, and he is reminded that this is in fact real. You are real. And there is nothing more amazing than that.

From the first day, you had that kind smile and those special eyes - the ones that can see through every wall he tries to put up. You can see his emotions with them, Bucky is sure. And for the first time in a long, long, time, he’s not scared of having his mind read. It feels natural to let you do it - it feels safe. He wants to share it with you - especially the things he can’t say because he simply doesn’t know how. He’s grateful you have that power. 

So, Bucky knew it the second he met you, that you are impossible to get over, even if he’d never get to have you. But when he’s watching those promising eyes stare up at him, he cannot keep himself from smiling.

Now you’re his. And you’re about to make that promise forever.

❁ ❁ ❁

The audience is watching you intently, but there’s only Bucky and you. Everything else is a blur of white and green in your peripherals. Bucky is holding your hand, and the heat spreading from his body to yours relaxes you. His fingers are trembling a little, but Bucky doesn’t care. He’s happy. Possibly the happiest he’s ever been, and at the same time not the happiest he’ll ever be - because that is to come, with every day adding on to this one.

Your name falls from his lips and you gasp at the raspiness in his voice. “From the moment I saw you, I knew it. I knew you were my happiness.” A smile breaks through his face - even wider than the one before. “Two years ago, I thought I was okay. I thought I had arrived in the life destined for me. It wasn’t a great one, but it was better than anything I could have hoped for. And then you happened - just stepped into my life with that sunshine smile of yours - and I realized that you could give me so much more than I thought I needed. I’ve gotten so used to your warmth by now, but I’ll never take it for granted. I just...” Bucky has to stop and catch his breath, but when he does he smiles at you again and his eyes are soft. “I don’t think I would survive without you now.”

He’s crying, and there’s something so wonderful about the tears leaving his eyes. They wash him clean of all the fear his old self holds. There is nothing scary as long as he can face it with you.

“I love you, so much.” A look at your fingers in his, and a tear settles on your skin, shooting a wave of goosebumps up your arm. “You don’t know it, but you saved my life.”

His eyes lock with yours again. Warm blue swimming in salty water - they’re happy. He’s happy. You have not realized that you have held your breath the whole time. There was no way to concentrate on breathing when you could feel every word of his stroking through your body in warm heaves. Bucky bites his lip as he watches your eyes shine with tears as well. There is so much more he could say. He could fill a week’s worth of hours talking about how much he appreciates you - but he settles for the few vulnerable words he released for everyone to hear. The rest is for you to read in his touch and stare, in his smile and the kiss he is about to share with you. He’s getting all giddy thinking about it. He’s done it a million times before, but this is it. The Kiss that settles it all.

You send an encouraging smile his way, and he slowly nods as his hands squeeze yours softly.

“When you touch me, I feel butterflies.” Oh, you hadn’t planned to just blurt it out like that. But it just happened. There was so much swirling in your head, the text you have rehearsed is suddenly not enough to do him justice. A small giggle rustles through the crowd, but you don’t care how childish it sounds. It’s true, and it’s the best feeling ever.

“I’ve known it for so long, I have. But feeling it every day anew surprises me. You are amazing, and kind and so incredibly thoughtful. Being with you feels like being myself. And I love that you can make me feel this way.” A tear rushes down your cheek, and Bucky struggles to keep his hand in yours instead of wiping it away. “I’m so lucky - I think it every time I think of you. And I thank the universe for gifting me your heart. Because, for whatever reason, I was worth it.” You have to pause for a moment to catch your breath, but his touch grounds you. There are too many things you want to say, and it would still not be enough. So you settle for the most important one. “I love you, Bucky. I love you so much it hurts sometimes. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You share a shy look with him, letting all the feelings flow through your body. The room is listening in anticipation when you both say your ‘I-dos’ and even though you know there would not be any surprises, your chest feels freer in a way. Bucky struggles to let go of your hands to turn to Steve, who is handing him the ring. And as he slides the delicate metal on your finger, he can’t stop the small sob from escaping his lips. It’s too amazing, too overwhelming - but at the same time, a feeling he doesn’t want to let go of, either. Your hands tremble when they carefully trace over the gold carving on his vibranium finger. Whatever is said rushes by you in a blur and you can only register the smile on Bucky’s face brightening even more. His hands reach out to you and press you to his body until his nose touches yours and his thumb gently strokes over your cheek.

It’s the moment before the fireworks go off, the second before the sprint, the little shimmer of excited heart race before the confetti explodes in bright and vibrant colors.

“I’m gonna love you 'til the day I die,” you mouth in perfect unison before capturing that promise with a searing kiss, letting the explosion paint your love on the walls for everyone to see.

Wanna be added to the taglist?

@almosttoopizza @sociallyimpairedme @royalwritersoftheuniverses @i-l-y-3000 @mrsgweasley @prettylittlepluviophile @circe143 @valkyrie418 @mirikusashes @noideawhyimdoingthislol @nikkitc0703 @lethallyprotected @erynnnn @misshale21 @not-another-fangirl

#bucky barnes #megs imagines #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x y/n #winter soldier x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fluff #bucky imagine #winter solider imagine #the avengers #winter solider x y/n

[larcenywrites]

His Assistant

Dom!Tony Stark x sub!fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ | Minors DNI | unprotected p in v sex | blowjob | cunnilingus | claiming/ownership kink | Sir kink | light bondage | choking | hair pulling | some degradation | some praise | possessiveness | jealousy | office sex | rough sex | she/her pronouns | afab reader | lots of porn with some plot

Word count: 4.5K

You could probably guess all the nasty thoughts behind that overly polite smile and charming façade. It was embarrassing, the image of you always haunting the front of his brain, and how he schemed nearly every day different ways to get a reaction from you or to get you close. He loved the way he could get you flustered when he purposefully let you catch him shirtless or when he occasionally guided you through a crowded building with a hand on your back or on your arm; or how tense you got when he brushed against you and he could hear your breath hitch; how supportive you were of him when he was having a bad day, and how he wished that sweet smile on your lips was pressed to his cheek instead. 

Or wrapped around his cock, just to help him feel a little extra better. 

After a couple of years of such tortuous feelings and playful chasing, saying he was starting to get antsy was an understatement. He almost felt silly about how quickly that spark of arousal would pluck at his spine when you walked into the room, and how he subtly tried to keep you around for more conversation even when he didn't need anything else and it was time for you to leave. He was a grown man and your boss, so he should have some better self-control! He doesn't even get this hot and bothered when he's actively reeling in a night's lay! 

No, it didn't start out like this. He was actually very professional at first! Well... there was a reason other than friendliness when he so quickly asked you to just call him by his name and not by 'Mr. Stark' (though chaos still internally ensued when you gave him an obedient yes, sir). Sure, he thought you were pretty and had a thought or two about what it might be like to have you under him, but he did that to everyone he met! He's naturally a flirtatious person without even intending for it to go anywhere, so it wasn't long before he succumbed to his amorous nature. You'd probably just shut him down anyway or get a bit flustered, he figured. 

What he wasn't expecting was for you to bite back, and things just sort of snowballed from there. Maybe it was simple fun at first, but he was pretty sure that the playful glint in your eye was anything but innocent fun. 

What made it even worse was that you just doing your job was enough to get him excited. You were his good, obedient little assistant who did whatever he asked, and you always did it good just for him. That was literally just your job that you did almost every single day, and it drove him up the wall. However, you weren't always so compliant, and sometimes that was a good thing! You did help keep him out of trouble here and there, but while he enjoyed you looking out for him, he also couldn't stand it! He always wants his way anyway, but you were telling him 'no'? 

It's fine! It's your job, remember? 

But it never stops him from trying to persuade you. A rush of power when you look away with a sigh and reluctantly agree, the burn of a challenge in his chest when you oh-so-calmly hold your ground. The game is exciting when he doesn't know which he's going to get each day, but frustrating that he doesn't get to reward you for it. 

Or put you in your place.

Though one lucky day for him (and for you), the usual pushback was a little too hard and far too inviting. 

Holding a stack of papers against your chest and rushing around that busy morning, you weren't pleased to find your troublesome boss lounging around at his desk with a shockingly business-related magazine. With your free hand, you gently tugged the periodical from his hands. 

"I was reading that, you know," Tony quipped before eyeing you up and down.

"You can catch up on your reading later," you rebuked, laying his light reading to the side and resting that rather hefty stack of, uh- legal documents in front of him. His attention never strayed as he watched you organize through yesterday's papers. "You-"

"Is that a new dress?" He interrupted you with the obviously more important thing occupying his mind. You finally turned to him with a sigh. Nothing but innocent interest stared back at you with the end of a pen smooshing at his bottom lip; and now that you had a good look, the tie that normally hung around his neck was undone and gracing around his shoulders with a button or two undone for added comfort. You tried not to stare. 

"It is, and it's not for you," you managed to tease before returning to your previous work without a second glance. Your lack of attention dampened his spirits. 

"Then who's it for?" There was genuine confusion in his voice, a furrow of his brow. You didn't have a date, did you? Who could possibly be better than him? Your answer was actually more terrifying. 

"The shareholder meeting you have in an hour," you informed him with an almost mocking cheeriness before turning to him for a moment. "Wanted to look nice." 

Tony stared at you, that cool and collected facade barely faltering aside from the obvious oh shit behind his eyes. It was the same time every year, twice a year. Yes, you've been reminding him almost every day for the past month. It was mostly you that did all the hard work anyway; all he had to do was show up and look pretty and (hopefully) already know most of what was on those graphs and in those surveys. You turned back to what you were doing when he opened his mouth, already knowing what to expect.

"Can you tell them I'm sick?" 

"No."

"Please?"

"No," you said a little sternly, patience wearing thin and still needing to set up the conference room. 

"But you do so much for me," he continued his plea, trying to sweet-talk his way out of it. 

"I let you get away with too much is what I do."

"Then what's one meeting?" He was standing beside you now, facing you with one hand planted on the desk and another hovering at your elbow. 

"One very important meeting," you said, distracted now, realizing that all those papers you had him sign yesterday were very out of order. 

"You can't talk your way out of this one," you interrupted him before he had another chance to talk. He looked at you like a hurt puppy. 

"I can't even try?"

"Tony-"

"Come on," he took a smoother tone now, and you could already picture that soft smile gracing his lips as you felt a gentle touch to your elbow. You turned to him again, noticing that quick pull of a smirk that knew he was winning now that he'd garnered your attention. Well, thought he was winning. 

"Even you don't get paid enough to deal with your angry shareholders." Your semi-serious joke was met with an amused huff. That hand on the desk mirrored the one on your forearm. 

"Then I can make sure you're well compensated," 

You looked away, trying to control the grin spreading across your cheeks, as well as the blush when he seemed to lean in ever so slightly at your reaction. 

"As big as your compensation might be," you started, pausing to fix an undone button or two before working on that burgundy tie. You could feel that hard stare as you ran your hand down the silky material, keeping it flat against him and plucking that gold fastener from the pocket of his shirt. "My job is to keep you in line," you finished quietly. You looked back up at him as you pinned his tie to his shirt, feeling his abs gently twitch under your palm. He glanced down at your hand still pressed into him. His jaw wasn't the only thing getting tight.

"Is that the only thing in your job description?" He tried to spur you on, that soft smile gone when those brown eyes flicked back to yours with an alluring invitation. 

"It won't even take that long," you reasoned, directing him back to the matter at hand as if you hadn't just started a fire. He finally sighed, looking away and head rolling to the side in physical reluctance. As much as he tried to sway you with his touch (and sometimes it worked), he could never resist yours. 

"Okay," he muttered, backing down and returning to his seat, probably upset that you weren't playing with him. In a way, it was disappointing, but today wasn't a good day to waste time fooling around. 

"Do you need anything else?" 

"No," he said bluntly, propped up with a hand on his cheek and no doubt pouting. 

"Okay," you replied quietly. Admittedly, you did feel a little bad, giving him one last apologetic smile that he didn't even see and taking those papers into your arms. "I'll go finish setting up." He nodded, only looking your way once your back was turned and already heading out the door.

You left. Without even stroking his victim card! And so nonchalantly after touching him more than you ever have before and looking up at him in that way that had his imagination running-

He huffed in frustration, but no one was around to hear it. And now he had about thirty-five minutes to mentally prepare for a meeting with people he barely even liked! 

So when he finally decided it was time to show up, there you were: smiling with said people, gracefully faking laughs, and he knew you were being eyed the wrong way. Whatever the guy next to him was talking about, Tony wasn't listening. Instead, watching your every move while some other asshole put a hand in the same place he had earlier to get your attention. He couldn't explain the burn in his chest seeing someone else touching you, and you were letting them! Listening so attentively and getting what they asked for and- he couldn't take it! 

He needed to remind you who you belonged to, or maybe he needed to reassure himself. He saw his window of opportunity when you gathered up an unused stack of papers and hurriedly left to what he hoped was his office. He slipped away, mere minutes away from doing his actual job for once, and was relieved to find you hastily storing things away behind his desk. 

 "Oh, did you forget something?" You asked, unaware of the turmoil floating toward you and worried that maybe you forgot something. Or assumed that his stony glare was simply him about to enter another complaint to the complaint box (you).

Neither was the case.

"I don't like when people touch my things," he said with a low rumble, fingers tapping restlessly on the desk as he brushed up against you. 

You didn't need any context clues when you looked up at that ravenous stare. He was talking about you, like some spoiled child with his favorite toy. And if he wanted to play...

"I don't remember applying for this job to be one of your 'things', Mr. Stark," you replied cautiously, finally looking up at him and unsure whether to regret your words. You could tell you piqued his interest, with an unsure glint in his eyes and an interested head tilt. "And I don't appreciate when they talk back." As if testing the waters, a hand tentatively gripped around your throat. He could feel your nervous gulp against his palm, the faint rush of your pulse beneath his thumb. He had you fragile within seconds. Your eyes couldn't decide where to look, flicking between that predatory gaze and his lips slightly parted in thought. "I fucking own you," he stated calmly, taking his time to observe the features of your face now that he had you close in his grasp. You couldn't help but want to rile him further. 

"Then maybe you should act like it." The stare that had been lingering on your lips looked back at you with malice. The fingers around your neck slid along your jaw, tilting your chin up at a slightly uncomfortable angle like you were an item on display; just for him to handle however he pleased. His jaw was grinding in frustration.

"I have a meeting to get to," he reminded himself, looking you up at down once more as if deciding what to do with you. You were disappointed when his hand left your chin, but excitement welled up in your belly when he instead whipped that dark tie from around his neck with a commanding "turn around." You'd be crazy not to comply (for a number of reasons), but you still hesitated to let him have you so vulnerable. 

One of those things far outweighed the other. You did as he asked. 

Calloused fingers took your hands, bringing them behind your back and delicately lacing that silky material around until it had your wrists tightly bound. Now you couldn't go around playing nice with other men. A shiver followed the palm sliding up your back, his grip quickly engulfing the back of your neck. There was a firm yet gentle pressure pushing at the top of your spine, urging you down. You didn't need to think twice, already weak in the knees and easily buckling under his touch. You were well aware of what was directly behind you as you kneeled before him. 

"Wait for me to get back, okay?" His question was an instruction, back to lifting your chin as he stood in front of you. You looked up at him through your lashes, tied up and on your knees. The sight had his blood rushing, but your meek "yes, Sir" had him restraining every muscle in his body from taking you right there. He cruelly backed away from you, without another word or touch, quickly heading back before he was missed with nothing but you haunting the front of his mind. 

What felt like an hour was really only twenty minutes. A tense, frustrating twenty minutes that had him racing back to you as soon as the important stuff was done. No time for any of that idle chit-chat when he had you so obediently waiting for him in the other room. The opening of the door caught your attention, but the sharp click of the lock had that wave of excitement bubbling up again. You looked up at him eagerly. 

No words needed to be exchanged. Your mouth was already watering as he worked oh-so-slowly removed his belt, the jingling chime of its buckle tapping along your spine. Had your hands been free, you would be tearing at that button and zipper, far too impatient for the sweet time he was taking. He carelessly kicked his shoes to the side. And then his pants. And finally those fitted black briefs that hadn't been so well-fitted for the past hour. The sight of him went straight to your already dripping pussy, watching him stalk towards you as he jerked himself off and still in that now slightly disheveled button-up (which was a little disappointing). You looked up at him with eyes that begged him for permission, and what looked back was probably anything but. But you were eager to finally take that pretty cock in your mouth; so close now that all you had to do was lean forward just a little more…

But an all too familiar hold on your chin stopped you. He was tantalizingly close, a glistening drip of precum taunting you. The pad of his thumb grazed over your bottom lip before giving him a new idea. 

His hand may have left your jaw, but it wasn't to give you permission. Instead, he swiped a thumb over his slit, gathering his dripping slick. You didn't have to think twice about parting your lips for him, letting him press the wet digit to your tongue. You nearly moaned at his salty taste invading your senses, sucking it from his thumb and earning a hissed-out fuck. He should have known his good little assistant wasn't so good after all. He quickly pulled away from you to instead nudge the hot tip of his cock to your lips, still stroking himself and groaning at your tongue swirling around his head. As soon as your lips wrapped around him, he stopped, threading his fingers through your hair instead with a hum of approval with the shallow bobbing of your head. You let him graze the back of your throat before teasingly pulling all the way back, languidly sucking the head of his cock in and out of your mouth with wet sounds that had his dick twitching and nails biting into your scalp. 

You gazed up at him again as you slowly made your way further down, but before you could have any chance to pull back again, he impatiently thrust into you. You nearly choked, not prepared to take him so far but the tightening of your throat he'd waited so long for felt too good to stop. 

"I know that smart mouth can take more," he snarked breathlessly, cupping your jaw with his free hand to keep you still while he face-fucked you. Even running out of oxygen and tears pricking behind your lashes, you couldn't help but hum out a strangled moan at letting him use you for his own pleasure. 

Your nose was pressed into the nicely trimmed hairs of his pubis, holding you there for a few seconds while he caught his breath and nearly pulling all the way out to let you catch yours. Only a few pitiful pants later and he was sliding down your throat again, only this time with a hitch in his hips. The throbbing twitch in your throat let you know he was close, but so did the fist gripping tighter in your hair and the badly restrained groans above you. You let out a whimperish moan when he roughly pulled your head back with a breaking trail of saliva still connecting you to him. He sloppily jerked himself off at your still parted lips, nudging back in to rest his tip on your flattened tongue when you caught on.

"I don't want you making a mess," he said lowly with gritted teeth. It was code for: swallow it all, and he would be watching. His strokes finally slowed when the first bittersweet spurts trickled down your tongue, working him through the rest of his climax while watching you obediently take that pool of white.

"That's my good girl." The hand on your crown came down to cup your face, thumb brushing affectionately over your cheek and wiping away a stray tear from earlier. You could help but to greedily lick over his slit one last time as he pulled away. You licked the leftover taste from your lips as he bent down to capture you with his own, his tongue lapping over yours and stealing what little breath you still had in a messy kiss. A sharp tug on your makeshift restraints ordered you to stand, and you reluctantly parted from him while he so kindly helped you up. 

Though, as soon as you were finally back on your feet, you were not-so-kindly pushed face down onto his desk, the hand holding your wrists against your back promised no mercy. The sight of you bent over his desk was already getting him hard again. It was a fantasy he'd jerked off to in this very office numerous times, and now you were going to give it to him. Your dress was delicately lifted, fingers playing with the wet spot on your panties before tearing them down your legs. The wooden edge of the desk dug into your hips as he lined you up, already feeling him pushing against your entrance. 

The searing stretch had your bound hands flying back to grab at him in a plea to slow down when he finally pushed into you, too eager to lay his claim and watch himself fill you out. The involuntary constriction of your walls had you squirming, trying to give him more room while he impatiently kept pushing further and acquainting you with every vein and ridge. There was no warning or waiting once he reached your end, nearly pulling all the way out before harshly thrusting back in. A hand clamped down on your neck, keeping you where he wanted while the quick pistoning of his hips drove your own into the edge of the desk, mixing more pain into your pleasure but you wanted him to leave his mark.

 He was ecstatic to hear the cry of his name on your lips and see your tied-up hands pressing against him. He was the only thought behind those glazed-over eyes and that's how it should be. Everything you did was for him, and he would make sure you remembered it. Those pornographic sounds he pulled from you got louder each time he bottomed out. 

"Moan like you're my fucking whore," he encouraged you loudly, taking note of the whimpered sigh that followed and the desperate arc of your back as you clenched around him. "Is that what you are? Just for me?" You were ready to answer him, but only a few panted-out moans left your lips. A smug amusement crept into his grin at knowing he had you too fucked-out to answer, but he wasn't going to let you off that easy. That bruising grip snaked its way into your hair, roughly pulling your head back. "I asked you a question," he growled through barred teeth.

"Yes, Sir~" you quickly corrected yourself. He must have been pleased with that apologetic cry, pushing you back into the smooth wood and pumping into you just a bit harder with his free hand grasping at the edge of the desk for leverage. A moan of his own finally left his lips, letting himself get just as lost as you for a moment. "Always so good for me," he panted, this time without that sneer. His words fueled the flame in your core, already so close to peaking with each strong snap of his hips that kept him deep and relentless inside you. 

Tony knew it, too. Your tight heat threatening to milk him for everything he had, and, fuck, that's exactly what he wanted you to do. You felt him place an affectionate kiss to your neck before resting his head against you, the fist in your hair leaving to join his other on your waist. But there were no nails biting into your skin or another grip trying to leave bruises. Hands caressed softly at your sides, lovingly even. It's just that you were taking him so well and letting him be so rough with you that he just had to drop his tough act to adore you a little. Though he never slowed and your legs ached, the sudden softness had you weaker than the roughness did. 

But you knew Mr. Stark always had you ask for his permission before doing anything.

"Sir, please-"

"It's okay, honey, you can cum for me," he softly panted, pleased that you were asking but far too impatient to test your limit right now. "You've already done such a good job." 

It all finally had you gushing around him, giving him your last bit of control while the desperate pistoning of his hips drove you way over your edge. Hot breath fanned down your neck, tongue flicking over your skin when he licked his lips before the pleasant sting of teeth bit into the crook of your neck. He quickly came with you, arms tightly circling your waist as he finally stilled. He didn't even ask, but he wasn't asking anyway; he was making you his- you were his. Besides, you couldn't find a good reason to protest against the hot cum pooling inside you. 

Your hands were flattened against his stomach with how he was pressed into you, letting you feel the slowing rhythm of his breath and the tenseness of his muscles underneath. It was a surprisingly calm end to all that pent-up aggression that already had you sore, and it caused an emptiness when he finally slipped out of you. There was a ruffling sound of clothes, and you'd be lying if you said that the soft jingle of his belt buckle didn't light another spark as you barely noticed him standing right behind you. You expected him to free you from your binds -hoping- but the mixed mess between your legs gave him a better idea. 

You jolted at the strong tongue circling at your entrance, eating you out even with his seed still dripping from you. The added prickle of his facial hair scratching along your sensitive flesh left behind a pleasurable burn, and he didn't care that you were squirming in overstimulation; in fact he wanted to make it worse, overexcited from finally getting to taste you and going straight for your swollen clit. You couldn't really escape, hips still trapped against the desk and the hands on your thighs begging you to stay. He was only satisfied when you were nearly sobbing his name, shakey legs trying to close him out, and once again cumming hard- only this time around nothing. You were given one last cheeky bite to your thigh before he decided to finally leave you be, but not before thoughtfully pulling your dress back down for you and untying you with a gentle kiss to both of your wrists marked with a faint red. Now that you weren't bound and pinned, you propped yourself up on the desk, arching your back in a satisfied stretch to ease the stiffness in spine, and some of that soreness in your lower belly. Tony watched you as he took his seat, already imagining your naked form stretching out in his bed tomorrow morning. 

As much as you would have preferred to lounge around a bit longer, the wooden desk wasn't very comfortable, and, unfortunately, you had a conference room to clean up and Tony had papers to sign. So, you reluctantly stood up, pretending your knees weren't wobbly. Admittedly, he was disappointed to see you back on your feet so soon as if nothing had happened, even if a little shakey. He'd have to find a way to fix that later. 

You surveyed the floor for a few seconds for your underwear before deciding he probably did something with them that you didn't want to ask about. Unbeknownst to you, that was what he used to clean your mess from his cock, but he would've kept them regardless. After sliding your shoes back on, you instinctively turned to him, fighting the urge to take his lips with yours when he looked up at you. Oh, the sin that hid behind those innocent eyes. There wasn't even a trace. You had to look away. "Do you need anything else?"

He smiled at your diligent servitude, relaxing into his chair with a hand on his cheek. He'd make sure to exploit that more later, too. 

"No, but I will need you back at the house when we're done."

#tony stark #tony stark one shot #tony stark smut #tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark x fem!reader #tony stark x female reader #iron man imagine #iron man x reader #iron man #tony stark fic #tony stark fanfiction #iron man fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel #fanfiction #fanfic #iron man smut

[atomic--peach]

Her Grace's Handmaiden. Pt3

(Cersei Lannister x Fem Reader x Jaime Lannister: SMUT threesome, voyerism, praise kink, oral (Male receiving) )

AO3 VERSION: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48276340

After the event with the mare, the queen saw fit that you would be given basic riding lessons.

"Right, now just do exactly as he says" Cersei emphasized. "No second guessing or backtalk. Treat him as you would me."

"Of course, Your Grace" You were wrapped in a thin wool cloak and worn leather boots, bracing against the chill of the coming autumn. The summer had to end sometime, you supposed.

"My brother is being very generous, offering to teach you." Cersei reminded you.

"I am very grateful for the help" You kept your eyes trained ahead, not wanted to see presumptuous by looking at the queen too much or talking too much.

It was bizarre, two high-borns taking such an interest in someone like you. It made you uneasy, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"I certainly don't to embarrass myself more than I already have."

Jaime was waiting for you by the stables, dressed in sturdy riding leather. His blonde hair flopped into his eyes and was brushed back with a gloved hand before he spotted your approach and smiled charmingly.

"Sweet sister" he greeted Cersei before resting his pale green eyes on you "And your new plaything."

"Now Jaime" Cersei chided him, "Be nice, Y/N isn't used to your teasing like I am."

"She will be" Jaime smirked at you, watching the blush creep up your neck and across your face. "Come, let's get started."

"I'll be waiting with the party, my dear." Cersei touched your shoulder, quickening your pulse as you whipped around.

"Your Grace, you're leaving?"

"Rest assured, you are in good hands" The queen insisted, flashing you a cryptic smile. "Good luck"

"Charming, isn't she?" Jaime came from behind you, watching as his sister left you to your own devices. "Come now, the faster we start, the faster you can stop being bullied by Clegane and that rabid stallion of his."

Eager to stand (er, ride) on your own two feet, you followed him before realizing there was only one horse readied.

"Uh, Ser?"

"You didn't think I'd jump to letting you ride on your own that quickly, did you?" Jaime practically laughed in your face. "Here, you first."

"I..." you gawked at the saddle the horse was set with. "You mean riding astride?"

"Something wrong with it?"

You thought for a moment before embracing your mistress's request to trust the knight.

"No, not at all"

He hoisted you up onto the back of his sturdy mount before swinging his legs up behind you. You swallowed a gasp, suddenly finding yourself pressed between the pommel of the saddle and Ser Jaime's chest.

"Let's get into some open terrain so you have space to learn"

Before you could protest, the knight had set the beast off at a quick gallop, one hand gripping the reigns and the other arm wrapped firmly around your waist to keep you from falling off.

Once you were well away from the party and in a broad scope of field, Jaime stopped the horse.

"Now," He handed you the reigns and without preamble place two solid hands on your shoulders. "The first thing to know about proper horse riding is your posture. You want to guide the beast properly? You have to sit it properly."

He gently guided your shoulder back, straightening your spine in the process.

"Now there's a saying my riding master taught me as a boy. And while it may seem forward, I need you to trust me."

Your skin prickled at the near constant contact between your bodies but tried to push it down and focus on the lesson. "Her Grace insisted you were the best. You have my full trust, Ser."

"Good Girl" Jaime praised in a tone that almost melted into a purr. "Now the first thing you want to remember about riding a horse is; Shoulders like a Soldier..."His hands slid from your shoulders, down your arms, before coming to rest on your hips. "and Hips like a Whore."

"Ser!" You gasped but Jaime tutted you into submission.

"I warned you it was forward, but just trust me." He soothed, "Now I am going to drive the horse forward slowly, and I want you to just-" His grip on your hips tightened "Follow the motion."

The beast began to move forward at a gentle walk and as the they went; Jaime's hands slowly guided your hips to match the motion of the horse's gait.

"A little faster?" He asked and you nodded, growing in confidence.

The walk turned to a trot, and the trot to a brisk cantor, and finally to a full gallop which left you breathless, clinging to the horse with your thighs as if you might fall off at any moment.

"Very good" Jaime practically cooed in your ear, slowing the beast back down to a peaceful trop. "You are everything my sister promised."

You beamed at that, proud to have lived up to your mistress's praises.

As your breath returned to you, you began to notice something different. Something that hadn't been there when you started your ride.

A hardness pressed against your ass, brushing up against you with the motion of the beast below you.

"S-ser Jaime." You swallowed. "We should go-"

"Go back, so soon?" Jaime crooned, pulling you closer to him in the saddle and bringing the horse back to a quick trot. "It's a lovely day, we should take advantage of it"

The hardness grew, and you tried not to notice until you felt it twitch slightly and Jaime muffled a moan in his throat.

"I don't think Her Grace would-"

"Would what?" Jaime grinned knowingly at your confused tone. "Sweetling, why do you think she left you out here all alone with me?"

"Because she trusts you, you're her brother."

"Hm" Jaime's hands massaged your hips slowly, running over your soft thighs and even venturing around to the front to cup your sex through your skirt.

You gasped at the sudden touch, pulse pounding as his two fingers skillfully located your slit and began to rub gently through the fabric of your dress.

"Ser" You breathed, trying to organize your thoughts as Jaime pulled your hips back to him, your back flush against his chest, rubbing slow circles through your skirt with the tips of his fingers.

"Just relax, sweetling" He breathed into your ear, "If you get too excited, the horse will sense it. Then we're both in trouble."

"We shouldn't..."

"I don't see you stopping me." He pointed out, hips continuing to brush the length of his cock against your ass. "All I feel is your body heating up against mine. Are you getting excited?"

"Oh Gods." Without thinking, you scrambled off the horse, falling onto your back as you did so.

Jaime laughed out loud, dismounting skillfully and grabbing you by the ankle before you could run for camp.

"Easy, easy girl" He chuckled, batting off you attempts to kick him like they were nothing. "Just calm down."

"The Queen will know." You gasped, heart suddenly pounding. "Her Grace, she trusted me, she's done so much for me, and now I'm here with you and she'll be so angry."

Hot tears began to stream down your face as you began to panic. Jaime paled, not expecting this to go this badly as he attempted to shush your sobs.

"No, no, no, Darling. Just listen, just listen" He tried to grab your attention. "Look, we'll go back to camp. We'll see my sister. Everything will be okay; I swear to you."

Not quite believing him and half convinced your mistress would abandon you here in the wilderness as soon as she heard, you wiped your tears and nodded.

Jaime gathered you in his arms and guided you back to the horse and ferried you both back to the party. He did his best to hide your distress from everyone else as you approached the queen's royal caravan.

"Enter." Cersei turned eagerly as her brother entered, giddy to see how her plan unfolded before her face fell. "What happened?"

Jaime opened his mouth to explain but before he could, you fell to your knees and bowed lowly.

"Your Grace," You sobbed into the ground. "I'm so sorry, I have failed you and betrayed you. I am not worthy of your mercy, but I beg for it all the same."

"I-" Cersei starred at Jaime who shook his head, shrugging in a helpless fashion. "Jaime, what did you do?"

"Exactly what you told me to do, I swear." Jaime insisted,

"Oh" Cersei's mind clicked with understanding and an amused smile crept across her face. "Oh, Y/N. You stupid little thing. Get up."

You obeyed, wiping your tears as the Queen knelt down to look at you.

"Y/N, I sent you out with Jaime *hoping* he would seduce you."

"What?"

"Yes, sweetling." She laughed, "You've been so good for me these last few weeks, and I wanted to reward you. You foolish girl, look at you worked up over nothing. Don't you feel ridiculous?"

You did, ridiculous and embarrassed and ashamed.

"Ser Jaime, I owe you an apology." You couldn't meet his eye, "Her Grace told me to trust you and instead I took you for a villain. Please forgive me?"

"I suppose I can." The knight nodded. "Though you did leave me in quite the uncomfortable position."

"Oh" a blush flooded your face again. "I'm sorry."

"Sweetling" Cersei placed a hand on the top of your head, "You aren't thinking of denying my reward for you, are you?"

"I-" The words caught in your throated. "Your Grace, I-. But-"

"Jaime, come here." Cersei beckoned her brother closer, leaning in to whisper in your ear, "You haven't quite earned the privilege of my bed yet. Treat Ser Jaime as you would me."

Your instructions were clear, and if it pleased your mistress, you were more than happy to comply.

Cersei's nimble hands reached forward to undo the laces of Jaime's trousers, pushing you forward to do the rest as she returned to the chaise with an eager gleam in her eye.

"Have you ever bedded a man before?" Jaime asked and you nodded. It had only been once, but you remembered how everything worked.

Peeling through layers of fabric, you freed the knight's semi-hard cock from his small clothes and scooted closer to him on your knees. A deep rumble of a groan filled the caravan as you took the tip in your mouth, sucking gently before taking more and more length down your throat. Before long, the tip of your nose was buried in the patch of fine blond hair at the base.

"Gods" Jaime breathed, a hand reaching down to grasp at your hair. "Gently, darling gent-" His words caught in his throat as you drew your tongue up the length of him before swiftly taking it whole, gagging slightly to accommodate it. The taste of salty pre-cum coated your taste buds and you hummed with satisfaction.

"That's enough."

You paused your ministrations when your mistress cut in sharply.

"Jaime," she crooned lowly, "Don't be greedy."

Jaime sighed, his brow already shining with perspiration as he withdrew his cock from your throat, a thin strand of saliva hanging from your lips as you gazed up at him.

"The queen is right, sweetling." He sighed, guiding you up by the tip of your chin. "This is supposed to be your reward, not mine."

Eagerly, you allowed him to unlace your bodice and aided him in removing your skirt and small clothes.

"Excited little thing, aren't you?" He chuckled, pulling you in for a deep kiss. His tongue prodded at your lips pleadingly until you parted them, making sure to explore his mouth as much as he did yours. He growled at this, unaccustomed to not being the dominant one, but you responded by sharply nipping his lower lip and grinning. He pulled away with a challenged look, as if calculating his next move.

"Come here" He spat, spinning you around and pulling your back flush against his chest, one hand snaked to your throat as the other danced across your chest. His calloused fingers grazed over your nipples, which responded eagerly as he palmed the softness of your breasts.

"Look" He breathed in your ear, rubbing his hips against your ass as he had in the field. "If you'd been a good girl, we'd have had privacy. Now look at you, about to be fucked in front of your queen."

You moaned at this, biting your lower lip and closing your eyes as he chuckled against your shoulder.

"Or maybe you like this better? Tell me, how long has it been since you've been properly fucked, hm? Years, perhaps?" His hand wondered between your legs once more, locating the sensitive bundle of nerves he knew drove women wild.

"That's right sweet girl," He breathed, firmly pressing his fingers against your clit. Your body tensed and your hips didn't know if they should chase the pleasure of his fingers or flee the intensity of the electricity building between your legs. "Now now, you stay right there."

One hand tweaking your hard nipples and the other pressing your ass against the knight's cock as it circled your clit, you knew you wouldn't last long like this. Your thighs trembled and tried to tighten around his hand, which only made him tease you more.

"Look at this sister, only a few minutes and her body is begging for release. Is that what you want, sweetling? To cum in front of your mistress?"

"Gods, yes! Please, please, please." You begged, skin slick with sweat.

"What a sweet girl, begging so nicely for us." Jaime cooed, sucking on the crook of your neck with a humming laugh. "What do you think, sister?"

You looked up and saw your mistress's face alight with excitement, her own thighs squeezing together as she watched the show her brother put on for her.

"I think....not"

You whined when Jaime all at once withdrew his touch from your body.

"Take her to the bed. I want to watch her cum around you." Cersei requested and Jaime gladly obliged.

"Tell me, sweet sister," Jaime hummed, watching Cersei leave her chaise to meet him at the bed where he deposited your aching, desperate body. "How would you like your little slave fucked?"

"Bend her over" Cersei demanded without hesitation, cupping your face almost gently as Jaime flipped you on your stomach. "I want to watch your face when he fucks you."

Her words drove another spike of need between your legs as Jaime spread your thighs and thrust into your dripping cunt without preamble. The sudden intrusion made you instantly clench around him and claw at the bedding desperately as he drove into you over and over.

"Look at me." Cersei cooed, watching your eyes dart rapidly trying to find her, "Gods, you look so pretty like this. How does he feel inside of you? What I would give to fuck you like this." Her hands petted your hair, damp and clinging to your neck and forehead with sweat. When she spoke to you like this, it was like the whole world melted away and became an extension of her. Even Jaime, especially Jaime, was just an extension of her and her will. She was the one who was fucking you right now, and it was her who made the muscles in your core snap as waves of pleasure washed over you.

When your body began to spasm under him, Jaime could only hold back long enough to pull out as quickly as he possibly could, coating your ass and back with ropes of cum. His weight collapsed on top of you for a moment, both of you breathing heavy. Both of you feeling like you'd been fucked by someone who hadn't even touched you.

Cersei rose up off the bed and tossed a rag at Jaime before leaning over you again, peppering soft kisses over your still sensitive skin.

"Good girl, sweet girl, how wonderful you've been for me." she purred.

#cersei lannister x reader #cersei lannister imagine #jaime lannister imagine #jaime lannister x reader #game of thrones smut #jaime lannister smut #Cersei lannister smut #Her Grace's Handmaiden

[iuwon]

X ▸ yang jungwon (part i)

▸ DESCRIPTION : what do you get when you have a stupid asshole of a bestfriend (who’s completely head over heels for you, should he add) and a fucked up ego that refuses to admit any form of defeat? you guessed it: the summoning of a jealous ex-boyfriend who dumped you two years ago, and is hell-bent on winning you back.

▸ PAIRING : ex!yang jungwon x female reader (feat. nishimura riki)

▸ GENRE(S) : angst, fluff, slow burn, exes au, college au

▸ WORD COUNT : 28.5k+

▸ WARNING(S) : this is very fast-paced for a slow burn, VERY cringe-y angst and writing (pls spare me it’s my first time😭), fake-dating with riki, JUNGWON REDEMPTION ARC ON PART 2, breakup scenes, indication of hang-ups and love triangles, jealousy, profanities, mentions of a car accident, blood, flashbacks from before and after the breakup, both reader and jungwon have issues :D, this has a second part because the fic is too long, not proofread, kindly let me know if there are any more ^-^

▸ SPOTIFY PLAYLIST : here

▸ UPDATED A/N : hello!! i finished this fic on the start of 2022 and then left it like that when i went on my hiatus, so rereading it nearing the end of 2022 .. i CANNOT take this seriously LMFAOO i was high and i dramatized everything im sawry. But. this is the longest fic i’ve written so far and for that i’m sort of :D i have little to almost zero experience of writing long fics AND angst, so i really hope to any who read this won’t have any high expectations T^T pls lmk your thoughts on this one!

▸ REQUESTED! for my scorpio twin anon :)

SOME PEOPLE ARE JUST LIKE KITES.

Someone had said that once, you remember. They’re the type of people that don’t have their two feet planted anywhere near the ground. They fly, and they keep flying. They have their mind fixated on solely reaching higher and higher up the sky just to blissfully enjoy the breeze. 

They continue to fly up once the string is held securely in someone’s hand. The thought never crosses their mind that the person holding the string might ever grow tired, or that the person would only continue to hold on because it’s hard to release the string - because it’s hard to let go.

Sometimes, the kite flies away. Either the wind current was too strong, or maybe it slipped out of your grasp. In the end, the one holding the kite is always the one to blame for carelessly losing them - it’s the person who mourns of the lost kite and suffers the consequences.

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↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ 

You were the type that always focused on studies. 

A homebody was what you were. To you, school was meant for school. The topic of boys never interested you, and Yang Jungwon wasn’t anywhere never of an exemption. 

Yang Jungwon, the notorious musical genius – the charming boy-wonder who lived in his own 4D world. People could say countless of sweet things to describe him, but you would forever see him as a person who was incapable of holding an interest for anyone for longer than his short attention span could hold – much more a romantic one.

You hissed in frustration, “Yang Jungwon, I swear to God, if you will not leave me alone -” your tone doesn’t faze him at all, as expected. He was immune to all your threats and remarks long before. A wide cheeky grin splits open his features before his hand reaches over and snatches your chemistry textbook at the mid-sentence of your threat, peeking over at it, “Chemical bonding?” he reads aloud, titling his head. 

And he irritates you further. Your mid-term finals were next week, and you were barely getting any of the subjects done at this rate. You were close to college, and you did not want to have anything, or anyone mess it up. 

You glare at him, “I’ve been at the same topic for the past half hour because of you,” trying to reach over your stolen textbook from the boy who never just seemed to leave you alone, his lips tug downwards in a musing pout. He stares at you before his eyes light up in thought. 

Without another word, he leaves his chair beside you, not before passing you your book. You immediately grip onto your textbook with relief, skeptical that he’d grab it back away from you again.

Moments pass and you have the time all to yourself to study, but it’s too quiet for you - despite being at a bustling café. You turn your head to both your sides, eyes subconsciously searching for him. You blink, where did he go? Did you manage to kick him out once and for all -?

A whisper from your left ear interrupts your thoughts, and you feel a warm figure lightly pressing against you from behind, “try to sing out the formulas, they’re easier to remember.”

You almost yelp in surprise, jumping away from him. Where the hell did he come from? “Yah, are you crazy -?” you began, but he starts to lightheartedly poke fun. “C’mon, do it. It’ll be easier to remember,” he encourages you, pulling out a guitar from behind. You didn’t even bother to question where he had the time to get his guitar. All you were thinking about were ways to make him leave.

You shot him a look, annoyed. “Do what?”

He was always so childish. So bothersome.

He randomly strums out his guitar strings before picking up a tune, “Sing the formulas out,” his eyes momentarily directed you to the textbook laid out on the table, “I’ll help you with the melody. Go on,” you were ready to throw a harsh retort at him, telling him off to how he was wasting your time and how his idea was stupid - but his eyes; his perfectly shaped eyes looking ever so purely earnest your way.

You hated it.

You weren’t a musical genius or any of that sort, that was all Jungwon. You couldn’t just whip out the best melodic high note nor could you memorize a thousand slide powerpoint discussion even with the help of music. He didn’t have to worry about his grades - hence, his carefree attitude - and he didn’t have to stress over finals week when his career in music was already made out for him. All he ever did around school was tag along and annoy you, try the most obnoxious attempts to ask you out, play his guitar, and listen to music in the earphones he never took off. 

You hesitantly look away, if you went along with him - maybe he’d go away once he got what he wanted to do. Little did you know how helpful the technique Jungwon suggested came out - or how fun it actually tuned out to be despite how awful your voice was, he was still looking at you like you were the singing like the angels. 

Barely another hour later, you remarkably managed to get it all by heart and cover the topics that couldn’t have been covered in at least three days - with the help of the one person who has been disturbing you from studying in the first place. You could only gawk dumbly at his guitar. 

Jungwon could sense your astonishment from miles away, and that made him all the more complacent with the huge beam he was wearing on his face. He wasn’t going to merely let this go. That trademark boyish look of his is back. “For my payment of very helpful service,” he starts as if you had ever asked him in the first place as he pretends to think, humming, “I’ll accept it in forms of you allowing me to take you out,” he suggests gleefully, his eyes sparkling in mischief. 

You would normally scoff at his attempt yet again, telling him off - but this time. You couldn’t keep count of the endless tries he’s pulled this trick. This time you helplessly shake your head with a roll of your eyes. You couldn’t keep count of anything anymore, nor were you going to start now.

Yang Jungwon wasn’t going to give up on you.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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TWO YEARS LATER [ JUNGWON’S POV ]

Through the extent of his memory, you never failed to take care of Yang Jungwon.

Not once. No matter how hard you would push him aside and passively act like you didn’t care much about him, you would be there for him; you would always be there. By his side.

And then you were gone.

Jungwon was two years older now.

Checking the items in his shopping bag to see if everything was complete, he leaves the grocery store, rummaging through his purchased items when his body swiftly crashes onto something. He takes a few steps to regain his stance as he stumbles backward.

“Oh, sorry,” someone says, and it takes a moment or two before he snapped out of his daze. He turns instinctively to the direction of the voice as he tries to readjust his grip on his pile of bags.

That voice. He knows that voice. 

But for a moment, his breathing halts, body stiffening instantly at the sight of someone he’d never expected to see. Never. Never again. Because this time, it’s you.

You.

You blink, showing mild surprise. And indifference. As if you were looking straight at a stranger. Your eyes pointedly averts itself away from him while you keep the proper formalities and try to start a conversation with your composure, “Uh, hello. How are you?”

To say that he’s caught off guard is too much of an understatement.

You looked different.

You looked good.

No.

You looked beautiful.

Is he dead? No, wait. What? Air gets knocked out of his lungs and he feels like he’s been punched in the gut at the same time.

You looked more beautiful than the image that he had of you for the past years, and it breaks him.

Like nothing has ever pulled you down – as if leaving you only did you good – as if it never happened or affected you by the least. 

How could you look so well?

To say that Jungwon looked like a mess was an understatement.

He bit his tongue, cursing for choosing the greatest timing. He tugged at the hem of his shirt, subtly trying to adjust it. What should he do . . . now? How should he start? 

How were you? Why didn’t you look for him? Were you doing fine? Did you find someone else? Have you moved on? Should he move on? Did you -

In the short silence, you seemed to be relieved to receive a text message, the ding that gives you an excuse to look away and check your phone. You make a face, feeling suddenly alarmed. Expression rushed, you formally bid him goodbye, and it fucking hurts him even more. “Nice seeing you. I should be on my way now. Have a nice day.”

A strangers’ nice pleasantry. With no sincerity. 

But you walk away, leaving him – not bothering to ask him for another meet-up. Jungwon is left standing in the middle of the street, dumbfounded.

Like it ended here.

Is this it?

He wasn’t even able to get to say anything.

This was worse than being nothing to each other.

It was worse than being treated like someone you hated.

He tries to inhale. 

Jungwon has no idea, honestly. Not anymore. 

One day, he had told himself for years.

One day, he would broadly smile at you. He’d stand proudly confident, and you’d know that he’s gotten over you for good. He’d win and see that he’s no longer suffering. You would see. You would. He’d get over you.

But bumping into you for the first time in years had Jungwon rethinking if he’s ever gotten over your eyes in the first place.

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PRESENT 

You can sulk for a little, throw a tantrum - but a kite is a kite. There’s no chance of it coming back; once you let go, it doesn’t look back at you to pause and run back to your hold. There was only one thing you could do from thereon: you could always forget about it, toss it aside like a child does, and replace it with a new one; making sure it’s a much better kind. 

That. That was something you reminded yourself time and time again for the past two years. Though the line was taken from a measly television show that you’ve watched long ago, it’s been the only line of string that kept you from looking back - like a mother telling her child to stop crying over a lost kite.

But, right then and there, it was like time itself pauses for you when you stand in the same café four years ago, hearing the all-familiar voice that you could never forget. There, when you feel your heart beating out of your control and dropping dead. There, where you’re not sure of the extent of what you could restrain yourself from doing.

You don’t know how you’re suddenly transported to the direction of the soft voice - it’s familiarity greeting you, and for a brief second, the memories you’ve burned long ago painfully flash back to mind - you almost flinch.

[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ train wreck by james arthur ] 

“I don’t wanna lose this, but I’m not getting through this. Hey, should I pray? Should I pray? Yeah,” Yang Jungwon.

It’s him.

Him, with his stupidly beautiful voice and his damn entrancing presence dragging you back harder than you remembered, and the pain he’s trying to immerse himself in as he ignores his physical surroundings. 

And you.

You, as you’re trying to fight away the haunting flash of memories that are slowly starting to accompany you, and you, as you could do nothing but fleetingly watch him. 

This was the second time you’ve bumped into him. You snorted, why was he always everywhere you went?

And it was like after the years of methodically stitching yourself back together, you’re transported back to the same person you were two years ago. 

A fool.

“To myself? To a God? To a savior who can …” 

You admit, there were days where you forgot his face - or in other words, days where you refused to acknowledge how he used to look at you. Days where it was too painful to even think about. 

You swear to yourself that those days are long over.

Standing across the end of the room after three years of absolutely nothing from him felt suffocating, as if there was no air to breathe. You didn’t realize you were holding in a short breath, and when you exhaled - you felt pinning, and needles, and knives stabbed deep into your lungs. 

“Unbreak the broken, unsay these spoken words. Find hope in the hopeless - pull me out of the train wreck,” 

When Jungwon’s eyes slowly open, the first thing he sees is you. 

Both your eyes meet, and he freezes. All too slowly. Everything in motion. You notice how his eyes widen, and how the old memories flash in his eyes all the same. 

PainMiseryHurtDisbeliefHope-

The regret.

All this happens in front of you. A dream. A nightmare. All at once. Your face remains passive and unaffected, hard - nonchalant with ease, refusing to feel bothered. Time seems slow, but you don’t hesitate to casually walk away, being the first to break eye-contact. You didn’t want to spend another second in that room.

Your grip on the drink in hand tightens in its own accord.

You’ve moved on.

But what was this sort of feeling enveloping you in?

A teasing wolf-whistle startles you on your way out of the café, ripping you out of the lethargic trance you were warped into. “Was that an ex I saw over there?” You find Nishimura Riki with his shit-eating face and his waggling of eyebrows up beside you. Grimacing at his face, you harshly nudge your elbow to his sides in annoyance. 

Breathing is a little bit easier with him around.

But you still feel like vomiting. “Is shutting up not part of how your brain is wired?” you roll your eyes, showing no effort at all to hide your agitation. He lets out an amused laugh, his playful gaze only duplicating itself as he proceeds to brutally tease you. 

Riki isn’t an asshole. Not really. He’s what you’d call your best friend … without much other choice. Though he can perfectly embody one, he knows his limits (though you may sometimes find yourself doubting it) and the extents to where he can joke around. He can be all sorts annoying and a douche whenever food is on the line, but he’s the only one who’s stuck with you since day one of what happened two years ago - and never bothered to pressure you into questions that tormented you even further.

You lost contact with the friends you had once shared along with Jungwon. It felt embarrassing and uncomfortable to hang around them with everyone aware of what happened, until it was long months later that it just didn’t seem right to suddenly start hanging around them again after your efforts vigorously avoiding them.

You’ve lost a lot.

And you just met the man behind it all.

Nishimura Riki was sort of all you had, and he knew that too. He figured everything that happened eventually through time, by himself. Picking up the little things wasn’t too difficult to do, neither was piecing everything together with a little help and slow nudge from you over the years. 

“He’s moving in this building, you know,” he looks over to your side.

Your stomach lurches, freezing in place. Your jaw nearly drops to the floor, gaping at him like your eyes would bulge out any second. 

Over your fucking dead body. 

That building was precisely the building you lived in. “What?” you nearly yell, causing passersby walking along the sidewalks to throw the both of you looks.  

He rolls his eyes, “Geez, princess, clam down. I was kidding,” he bumps his shoulder next to yours, as if he was trying to shake you up. He starts going over about how you were showing ‘hang-ups’ symptoms before you start barking a mouthful of threatening-nothings to have him shut his mouth, running after him.

Something rings different, however.

Yang Jungwon.

The name lingers in the back of your head, no matter how hard you try to push it away. It’s been three years, but when the kite you’ve lost years ago - the kite you swore you’ve already forgotten about - comes back, what then? 

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↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ 

You weren’t necessarily the warmest type of person.

Blank faces, blunt responses, and sharp glares were all people received from you. You got others avoiding you in return, it was a give and take situation that benefited perfectly on both sides – perhaps more on your side. It worked as a repellent to kept everyone off your radar. And you liked that. You enjoyed being left alone. You found peace in your own solitude, away from other people. You were never exactly fond of people, either way.

Yang Jungwon was certainly a different breed.

Maybe it was the challenge that he liked, at first. You; the unwavering and ‘unbeatable’ challenge that provoked him – enticed him. That kept him coming. You were a brick wall, and he was someone who had the world at the palm of his hand.

But you don’t know how his intentions changed along the way.

You don’t know what made him change his mind – or what part of you that he saw that made him choose to do so, but it wasn’t of any use to figure out how.

Because he wanted you, now.

And he would ever-so-bluntly admit that.

All your efforts of shrugging him off made him fight harder for you. It was useless. The more you would curse at him with the harshest words just made him want to tag along by your side even more with that boyish grin never leaving his face.

He was a weird one.

“You know, you’re not as mean as how the people label you as.”

“And you’re more annoying than they claim you to be,” you don’t crack an amused smile. Jungwon wonders if he’s ever seen you smile – or even wear anything else of an expression that didn’t look bored, annoyed, angry, or enraged. He takes a moment to visualize how beautiful you would look when you smile and decides that he’ll do anything to see that happen. Just like that.

“You keep tossing me away,” he defended himself, the corner of his lips tugging downwards in the smallest pout.

“You keep coming back,” you retorted back, eyes shooting daggers.

By the look of his face, you realize your response wasn’t the best. “I’ll keep coming back to you,” he finishes. A lopsided grin. His brain was wired differently.

You didn’t hold back your prolonged suffering exhale.

It was a careless remark.

Such a recklessly made promise.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ 

[ JUNGWON’S POV ]

No one loves you like Yang Jungwon.

Whenever you’re blabbering about something with the biggest smile on your face, every time at that exact moment Jungwon knows that no one can ever be as fucking in love you like a dumb plain sheet of white paper like he can. Nor can they get to know you - or the 2 am you. They wouldn’t get to know how beautiful you look with the one side-lamp illuminating a side of your face - and the little things that come along with it, it’s only him. 

It’s only him.

But when he stares into your eyes, he knows it all too. No one is as bad for you as Jungwon is either, he believes, and it fucking destroys him as he holds onto you tighter, his hands slightly trembling. He can’t lose you, he doesn’t want to, and he doesn’t know the person he’ll become if he ever does. He doesn’t know if he’ll even make a day after it. 

Why didn’t he think that there would ever be an end to a sweet dream?

Yang Jungwon is your first, but someone else is going to be your last.

Someone else that wasn’t him. 

He muffles the sound of the soft cries that escape him as you peacefully sleep next to him in his tight hold, unaware of what’s to come.

He’s everything that he promised you he would never be.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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THE NEXT WEEK

Riki must’ve placed some sort of curse on you for this to happen.

You could vividly imagine his shit-eating face with his loud laughter already.

Whatever witchcraft or shitty attempt of ‘fate’ this was, Nishimura Riki was going to be the cause of your death. Though this has barely anything to do with him, you can’t think of anyone else that brings that much bad luck to you. You’re seriously starting to think the world is unreservedly just fucking with you for entertainment.

Just when you thought you were never going to see him again.

Yang Jungwon stands at the front of the classroom, leaning on one foot with a backpack slung over his one shoulder. You almost facepalm, this was some Egyptian curse that was going to follow and haunt you, wasn’t it? Perhaps the ghost haunting you was in the form of your ex-boyfriend.

Of course, the new student had to just be him.

You never thought you would ever see him again. Thankfully, he doesn’t notice you and sits the farthest from your area. You keep your head focused on the individual work assigned to the class. If this whole thing could keep up, you could probably spend the next semester without him knowing you’re in the same class, then, you could hopefully change classes by the next - it wouldn’t be so bad. You didn’t have to acknowledge him.

That is, until the Professor starts assigning him roles and tasks. “There are the modules for you to read, and then around four individual minor projects to keep up with. The fifth individual project, however, majorly affects your grade,” he pauses, lightly smacking his lips as he scans his student list. 

He flips through papers as he continues, “since you’ve missed most of the term, I’ll be pairing you up with Lim Seoyeon,” he drags the last word, scurrying through his papers to find another name, “and Y/L/N Y/N. Both are only lacking their thesis papers, while the others are still lacking to submit three projects, so it would be most convenient for her compared to the rest.” 

Your stomach churns, feeling sick. Physically cringing, you felt like creating an uproar. Wherever Yang Jungwon goes, trouble always follows; this simply could not be happening to you. Lord, it was the least convenient to you. 

This world couldn’t hate you this much.

You wanted to curse any of the gods above you placed you in this shithole, being beyond frustrated and unwilling. Anyone but him. You could only mournfully regret passing all your projects in advance, it was ironic. You get yourself into fucked up situations for being a good student? What is this university? 

The Professor doesn’t clarify anything with you - nor does he justify the situation and the injustice, but only throws a nod in acknowledgement in your direction before he waves at Jungwon in dismissal - excusing himself from the classroom.

Your eyes could almost bulge out.

What was happening . . . ?

Jungwon’s eyes sweep over the room before he finds you, but you note how he doesn’t look the least surprised to see you. He stares, trying to discern your expression, but you once again break eye contact within a second.

You were in hell.

You had no option to stalk up to the teacher’s desk to bargain when the professor wasn’t there in the first place. You were fucking stuck with him. You felt the burning flames when he got up to make his way to you, and as he stood right in front of you. Choking to death because of a meatball in live television seemed like a much peaceful idea that kept most of your remaining dignity. 

Maybe if you kept your head buried with studies, he would go away.

“Y/N,” a voice acknowledges you.

Fuck, you could remember that voice anywhere. 

“It’s nice to see you.” Yang Jungwon. 

You made a noise in response.

The feeling was not reciprocated.

You hate the way he sounds.

Like he wasn’t the same person three years ago.

You forcefully nod curtly at him, and you’re drowning.

Suddenly, we are strangers again. An unwanted stranger. There was no other option rather than tolerating him until it was all fine. You could do this. You didn’t want to, but you had to, otherwise you’d be at the polar end of the classroom by now if you had the choice. 

But you chose to ignore him: Ignore the fact that he sat right next to you in close proximity, ignore the fact that you could smell his cologne - the familiarity of it and how it smelled like home, and ignored him like he never existed when he tried asking questions. In your defense, either they were a waste of time to answer, or they could easily be found in the textbook. 

“Hi, I was wondering if –” Ignore it.

“Do you know where the questions for –?” Ignore it.

“Don’t you think this project is pretty difficult –?” Ignore it.

And you turned a blind eye to the fact that you disregarded him because you didn’t know if you could control yourself.

Seoyeon was a lifesaver, managing to keep you sane as she voluntarily chose to step in to help Jungwon out after hearing all his questions directed to you left unanswered. You wouldn’t know what you would do if you were forced alone with him. She reads the room but doesn’t question anything. 

You tell yourself it was anger that made yourself this way.

Blind consuming anger.

You hate how Jungwon could still manage read you after all this time.

A quiet and gentle question, “Y/N, are you mad at me?”

You barely react, but your eyes squint on their own. You weren’t going to lie nor deny it, you do really wish he hadn’t chosen to interact with you. Staring blankly at your laptop screen, you don’t move. A hushed voice - a subconscious that you swore you lost long ago - in the back of your head whispers an answer before you force yourself to shove it down. You almost scoffed; are you mad at him? What kind of a dumb question is that? 

He was nothing but an ass, he hadn’t changed. 

“No, why would I be?” You answer brusquely, your tone signifying that you were keeping a distance from him without having to say it.

You hope the cue was taken.

There was no need to keep the friendliness with him – you weren’t obligated to. Formalities were all there was left. At least you would treat him with the respect that you were scraping your skin out for, right? Whatever you had with him - it was over. It was long gone. 

You refused to be controlled under the palm of his hand ever again.

You swiftly pack your belongings and left him without a work or glance to spare his way the second you hear the bell signal the end of the period right on time. You don’t even bid your classmate, Seoyeon, goodbye. You’d apologize to her later and explain things to her, hoping she’d understand and lend a helping hand.

It’s been two years and the minute he shows up, you find yourself crumbling and unable to control yourself, and that frustrates you. You’re slipping.

Being around him was a waste of energy.

You remind yourself that you feel nothing. 

He was a stranger to you now.

Once again, you walked away from him, gripping the strap of your backpack tightly in sheer annoyance and vexation. Mind racing, you try to find a reason; why was Yang Jungwon in your major and university and what in the heavens above does he want from you?

.

.

.

LATER

Riki roars in laughter, his hand slapping his knee as he nearly falls off the chair. You were almost tempted to push him off. 

“You think it can’t get any funnier than that, but it does!” he pretends to wipe away a fake tear, “you ignored him all the way through!” he bursts into fits laughter once again. 

“Poor guy, getting the silent treatment from someone like Y/N on your first day at college is depressing,” he empathizes, though it doesn’t sound by any means sincere. Nothing about Nishimura Riki is sincere. “At least I’m not the only one Y/N treats like shit!” he notes positively with a beam on his face, but you’re not sure if that’s anything that’s supposed to be of positive news.

You whack the back of his head, and he whines. “When have I ever treated you like shit, you dumbass?” 

“I’m taking this as a form of harassment,” he grumbles.

You stick your tongue out at him mischievously, “Oh, boo-hoo, you big baby, ‘s not like you don’t bully the hell out of me,” you roll your eyes, “and help out and do something about Jungwon, will you?” you ask him for a favor, your tone indicating exhaustion.

He furrows his eyebrows at you, “What’d you want me to do - bury his body? Doll, I barely even know the guy.” 

You swing your arms - shooing something nonexistent away for gesturing, “Just keep him away! I don’t know, do one of those stupid ideas that you always come up with. I can’t stand seeing his face,” you complain, almost childishly stomping your feet in outrage. This was unlike you.

He lowly whistles, “I was really hoping for some real kind of exes-to-lovers type of k-drama lead coming to life,” he comments, and you muster the biggest disgusted glare at him. He only shrugs his shoulders with a mere ‘hey-what-can-you-do?’.

“However, there’s a …” he trails off, lighting up like a lightbulb with an idea in mind already. 

You raise a brow, “A what?” 

He looks at you with a grin, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows, “We can fake-date.”

You were dumb to ask him for ideas. You groan. “Not again.”

“C’mon,” he probes you, tugging at your arm. Was he really that bored with his life to want to fake-date you?

You blankly stare at him, deadpanned. “You get dumber and dumber the more I talk to you,” you don’t hold back from telling him, receiving a dirty scowl thrown at you, “I’m serious! Isn’t that what people do whenever one of their exes show up?”

Squinting at him, you ask, “Just how many fanfics have you been reading?” 

He crosses his arms, “Make fun of me all you want, but we both know that those ideas never fail,” he huffs, “you wanted him gone, didn’t you?” he tries to resonate, “Everyone thinks we’re already a thing anyway, it won’t be too hard, or would it be much of a trouble if we just went on with it. We’re basically pros at this dating thing, aren’t we?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Yes, and getting back at him would feel rightfully good as hell and all but,” you sigh in exasperation, hating to be the one to ruin the fun, “doing that would mess everything up even more, I’m sure. We’d be the ones ending up as the dumb fools in the situation. Did you already forget the time we fake dated to get that girl obsessed over you off your back? And how it backfired on us?” you stated, and Riki’s thoughtful silence justified your stance. 

You’d rather die the most undignified death than have Yang Jungwon win the second time around, and that was not happening under Nishimura Riki’s watch.

“If I could just turn into a wizard or anything like that and ‘magic’ him away,” you plopped an arm up on the desk, resting the side of your cheek at the palm of your hand, “probably turn him into a damn ugly and useless broomstick while at it, too.”

Riki lets out a humorous short laugh at the sight of you, “Cheer up, princess,” he slings an arm around your shoulder, poking your cheek, “I’ll help you too, and I’ll beat him up whenever he tries to go near you; hot sexy Nishimura Riki cares about your cute dumbass,” You bump your hip playfully toward his. I’m not leaving you alone, is what he was trying to say.

He’d excuse it as simply returning the favor that he asked from you. The time when the both of you fake-dated, and it backfired – forcing you to reach extreme measures that went on for months.

Right, you had Riki. And he wasn’t going to just ditch you, not like him. He’s stayed firmly next to you for the past two years through all the shit you put him though (and all the shit he put you through). Riki may have been a rascal, but he was nothing compared to how shitty Yang Jungwon was.

You simply just had to keep going and help Jungwon out in certain parts while interacting the least you could and ignore him (or preferably call Riki to tell him off, he’d love to finally be given the chance to annoy the shit out of someone) whenever he tries anything funny. As soon as it was over, you’d do your stay out of his way and pretend like nothing happened. After all, he was the one who left. If anyone was trying to run away, it’d be him.

Everything was going to be fine. You didn’t care.

It was no big deal; no extensive measures were needed.

A sharp inhale.

You didn’t know if you were lying or if you were telling the truth.

.

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[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ yellow by coldplay ]

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

Jungwon liked to follow you around.

He also liked dragging you along with him with whatever excuse he could come up with. You never could really decipher what that oddball was thinking, just when you thought you caught up to him, he surprises you with something new every day. 

Lee Heeseung, your senior, was discussing that week’s event that the school was holding with you when Jungwon swoops in and drags you away without second thought, “Sorry, hyung! Gotta borrow her today ~” he throws a grin, and Heeseung could only roll his eyes, staring in playful disbelief after the both of you, “ya, that’s what you said the last three times too!”

Jungwon gives the kind of pleading look you know Heeseung couldn’t resist, “I swear I’ll pay you back with free lunch, hyung!” he yells back. You were used to being dragged away or trailed around by him; it wasn’t anything of the ordinary. He winks at you. 

No matter how hard you would try to avoid him or threaten him, he was always looking at you with the most mischievous silly and crazy ideas in mind. 

On the other hand, he didn’t really enjoy the idea of you hanging out with other guys.

Could you call him delusional? You really wanted to.

And then there was this other instance, where Jungwon had sulked behind you the whole period, making noises that surely irritated you whilst you interviewed Park Jay for a class paper, who was a part of the varsity team. It forced you to spend the entire day with him for the interview, which Jungwon did not seem to like. It came to the point where you had to embarrassedly excuse yourself from the number of huffs and noises he was making. Jay was left giving confused looks, completely distracted from the whole topic that the whole interview was pointless no matter how hard her tried to ignore Jungwon.

“What is your deal?” You hissed at Jungwon in annoyance as soon as you scurried away from the varsity team, “you completely embarrassed me over there, you rascal!” He doesn’t hear you. He seemed deep in thought, as if he was battling with himself. Jungwon faced you with the biggest frown - looking more distraught than ever, “You don’t like him, right?”

Your mouth slightly hangs open, thrown off-guard. What?

“He isn’t your type, isn’t he? He doesn’t look like it. You’d never go for a guy like him.” He looked ridiculous – and it wasn’t much of a shock to you. An idiot and a loser. You figured it’d only be a matter of time before he completely lost his mind. It was as if he was talking to himself. You lightly whacked his arm, trying to get some sense into him and snap him out, “What are you talking about, you rascal?”

He bores his eyes onto yours, “Whatever. I won’t let you, anyway. I’ll stay by your side you ‘till the day I die if I have to.” His eyes were set with firm determination, yet you didn’t bother pressing on - being sure he was up to no good, as usual.

He was speaking, but you couldn’t piece together what he was trying to imply. You didn’t really care either, he was a weird guy. Still, you were frustrated at him for just having to mess everything up for you again, “I can’t believe you,” you muttered incredulously, turning your heel to start walking away from him – you were done with this boy. 

“Hey – angel, no, wait. Where are you going –?”

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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.

.

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

Admittedly, you didn’t hate Yang Jungwon as much when you had first met him, but the dislike started to grow at a profound rate when he started acting as a nuisance the more occasions he stuck around.

You weren’t exaggerating. Jungwon was just the epitome of overbearingly unable to understand social boundaries and your extreme dislike of having him in a 2-mile radius near you.

And you had your dignity, but Jungwon was an entirely different topic. Hiding from him in the gymnasium lockers was your last resort.

“Gotcha,” a cheery voice slides in beside you out of nowhere. Your heart almost jumped out of your body in fright, did he always have to jump-scare you out of nowhere?

“Seriously –?!”

“Stop playing hide and seek with me, angel. I’d love to play this game some other time with you but not now! We have somewhere else to go!” He has got to be shallow. Or dumb. Really dumb. You don’t know. As much as he loved blabbering endless nonsense around you that never seemed to make sense and was barely capable of leaving your side, you barely knew anything of him.

 You glowered at him, “I’m not playing hide and seek with you, you rascal! I’m obviously avoiding you –!”

He pats the top of your head before gently grabbing your hand, interrupting your nth effort to knock some sense into him. “Let’s go! It’s my turn for a Y/N day.” he points forward, leaving the library baggage hall that he found you hiding in. A Y/N day? What were you to him, an item? You groan, sounding sorrow. You really thought you got away from him this time. “Yah, we’re going to miss class!” 

You didn’t even know why you bothered.

Jungwon tilts his head, giving you a look as if to tell you to not worry, “We’re going to the river today, anyway. I brought my boombox with me,” he proudly tells you, and you aggravatedly sigh, feeling defeated. You swore you made all the measures needed to carefully avoid him, thinking you were finally left alone. 

“Why do you always bring me along?” you deadpan, trying to wriggle free from his grasp. He was probably going to insert another flirtatious line or something among those actions. Why don’t you ever leave me alone? 

You never really got it. Any of his interests, in fact. Why was he so determined to pursue you? There were countless of girls who were more of a ‘challenge’, and they were all the more interesting than you, with no doubt. What did he see in you? “Don’t you have any other friends?” you pulled a face at him. Jungwon has been by your side for such a long time that you grew accustomed to his presence, still, you weren’t going to admit that. 

“I don’t want to hang out with them, I want to go with you,” he simply explains, as if it was the most obvious answer.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, irritated, yet curious as you stress, “Why?”

He pauses, still looking ahead as he guides you forward, “Being around you makes me happy.” You simply glance at him and the look he has makes you shiver.

Jungwon was always straightforward. There was not an ounce of shame in that man’s soul. He said what was on his mind without any filter, and he also had a peculiar way of thinking, which in terms, you guess, made him intelligent. 

A beat passes, and you don’t find a retort to throw back at him.

Jungwon was like this beaming sunshine and busted in the dark hell you drowned yourself in.

Even if you enjoyed the darkness.

He always knew where to find you.

He found you.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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.

.

Every year.

Every moment.

Jungwon was always there.

Yang Jungwon always knew where to find you, it was like his sixth sense. He could spot any of your bullshit or anything that you were hiding from him in a mile radius. There was no bother in hiding from him. He would always pop up by your side with a lopsided smile, carrying his guitar around and whining to you because he wanted to do something fun.

He was a bothersome child.

He was there in the times you didn’t want to see him, and he was there in the times where you needed someone but there was no one to turn to. It was as if you could summon him, you would always retort. 

Making up excuses was his specialty, he always seemed to disregard everything to tag along with you. He made crazily creative alibies that never seemed to run out just in order to be able to stay by your side.

Until one day he stopped.

Until one day he ran out of reasons.

So, where was he and what was he doing two years ago when he left you the moment you needed only him the most?

One day, you woke up and he was gone. You haven’t heard from him since. Not a trace left. Not a ghost left to haunt you. And somehow, that haunted you even more. 

Where did you go?

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.

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

You liked the pastries that Jungwon used to make for you.

You remember that he made them for you a lot. Whenever you did a job well done on a simple test or if you overworked yourself, you always found a box of your favorite flavors on your desk or locker the following day. You didn’t have to question who it was from; he didn’t have to say anything.

You weren’t accustomed to having that kind of treatment. A simple job done is merely a simple job done. There hasn’t been much of a pat on a back or a congratulatory party for the little achievements, and that was completely fine you. However, that wasn’t the case for Jungwon.

Puzzled, you held up the mysterious box, “What is this?” 

“Sweets. Try them and tell me if you like them or not,” you could tell that he was anxious in anticipation. You try and hand it back over to him, “Oh, I’m not really in the mood for sweets, you can go ahead and give them to Minju though, she loves -”

“I didn’t make them for Minju,” he stands in front of you, sort of dejected and earnest. That was a new look on him. His face seemingly somewhat deflated, and somewhat embarrassed. He scratches the back of his head awkwardly, refusing to meet your gaze as he shakes his head and changes his mind, trying to reach over the box to save his dignity in the situation.

Your eyes slightly widen, processing, “Wait,” you withdraw your extended arm, looking back at the box, pointing to it, “you made this?”

“It’s not really any -” Jungwon starts, reaching out for the box for him to take back but you swat his arm away.

“You should’ve said so, dumbass! I love things homemade,” you explain lightheartedly, your eyes glittering once you open the box to reveal damn beautifully decorated chocolates. Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape from the blow, almost gasping.

He did that?

“You don’t have to act all that, you know,” Jungwon adds, and when you spare him a glace, you realize he’s being serious.

You roll your eyes at him, ready to punch his arm. Acting? He wishes! Was he just wanting more compliments from you, or did he really believe that his baking didn’t look like the prettiest things ever? They looked too beautiful to eat but you didn’t know if you could manage to restrain yourself from eating something that looked so delicious. “Shut up, look at that! Are you, like, a world-renowned baker or something?” 

As soon as nearly half of the box was eaten by you, you mentally felt something hit you, like a pang. Though you couldn’t exactly discern what. You felt something, a lurch of it. A swell of happiness, a swell of being seen, a swell of not being alone, not anymore. “Jungwon?” you looked at him.

He leaned his weight against the wall in the front of you, taking one of his earpieces off, “Mm.”

“Thanks,” It was casual, but you meant it. You really did. He could read it from your eyes. He probably spent a lot of time making these, you thought. Then you realize that’s all he ever did to you; spend his time on you. 

He’s sincere. A troublesome rascal, definitely. But sincere. It’s funny how it took him to just make some homemade sweets for you to see and realize, “you’re not that bad.”

You don’t know if you left him speechless, but you walk down the hallway with him staring after you. Words left unspoken.

Something new had changed then.

You didn’t know what to call it. 

But it felt good.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ meet me at our spot by the anxiety ]

THE NEXT MORNING

[8:04 am] unknown number: hi good morning

[8:04 am] unknown number: it’s jungwon :)

[8:05 am] unknown number: i just wanted to wish u a good day

[8:06 am] unknown number: i’m really proud of u

Four text messages to ruin the start of your day.

And in addition, there it was: the exact familiar box of pastries on the desk you were at yesterday that morning.

You nearly got yourself nauseous at the sight.

Were you dreaming? 

Blinking it off, you snap out of it. You scoff, Jungwon was more shameless and a lot bolder than you thought. What was the box supposed to signify? ‘I’m proud of you’?, ‘I’m sorry’?, or an ‘I miss you’? Either way, you never knew Yang Jungwon could ever stoop so low.

Two years and the first thing he does is give you a box of sweets, was he thinking it’d pay back all the shit he pulled? Bribe you with sweets and suddenly everything would be okay?

Your resentment for him grew even more.

Anger was a better feeling to experience other than any of the other emotions.

At the side of your eye, you could see Jungwon. You pretend not to, and you try so hard. You don’t miss the glances he throws you, he was probably waiting for your response.

Surely, he should expect from you that the response was going to be nothing good. Does he know you at all?

Throwing it away seemed over the top, but you didn’t know what the rest of your options were. You hesitate, eating it would only make him believe that everything’s okay. And in case Jungwon didn’t get the memo: everything is not okay. 

This won’t hurt you.

You toss the box to someone else; your hands slightly freeze on its own for a moment when you realize Jungwon was watching. Only for a moment.

You weren’t taking his bait.

You didn’t want it.

You don’t look at him, and you don’t bother to see his reaction. Biting down your tongue, you jabbed your pen down the desk forcefully - you ignore the sense of guilt. He asked for it.

It takes a bit more effort to remain nonchalant this time.

Jungwon was getting in your nerves. Again.

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LATER

You were dragged into a library group filled with people you barely knew of by Ningning and Seoyeon. You recognized Jake Sim from chemistry class, and a few others that you weren’t entirely confident you knew the name of. Jungwon was there. Of course, he had to be.

Though you were an expert at turning invitations and confessions down, you really weren’t much of the action type. Some would call you the ‘all bark, no bite’ type, but that was mostly because people who ensued and pressed on having it their way was just stubborn.

Most of your life, people went along your bark, it was rare that anyone went against it – but not impossible. Yang Jungwon.

The name flashes by your mind involuntarily as if it was a burn.

As if your mind works on its own, you find yourself staring at him – he paid no interest in the conversation as he mindlessly scrolled through his phone, bored. The only word he had ever said was when he had assertively stated that he wanted the seat that was close to yours. He had also joined the conversation and firmly voted against Jake sitting next to you. What a problem boy.

[02:44 pm] yang jungwon: u look good today

You were bored, but definitely not bored enough to be willing to immerse yourself into that mess.

You were entirely out of the group’s topic of conversation yourself, immersing yourself all in your head and thoughts until a girl named Naeun – you think – waggles her brows at you. “What about you, ms. ‘most-popular-with-guys’?”

“How many of them did you turn down this week?” Lee adds into it lightheartedly, poking fun.

Jungwon’s attention is immediately averted to you – and you hate that you can feel his gaze boring into your face.

You feel more uncomfortable than ever, trying to argue with them, “What? That’s not true—!”

Ningning’s eyes glint in mischievousness, taking in your denial as something you were embarrassed about as she joins into the conversation. But it wasn’t, not entirely. 

You were highly uncomfortable. “Don’t deny it. You’re more than just ‘popular’ with guys. I swear I saw with my own eyes at least two guys try and hit you up on this exact library alone from the past few days.”

You could hear chortled laughter from around you.

You know none of the voices belonged to or were from Jungwon.

You’d rather suffocate.

“I heard you were pretty popular with the guys during your high school years too!” Seoyeon chirped. You felt nauseated. Where did they even hear that information? You incredulously retorted to yourself.

“D’you date any of them?” Lun from literature class pipes in, interested. You feel your face turn hot against your will. “Any hotties you can introduce me to?” someone adds into it suggestively, clearly enjoying the topic of discussion.

Your face starts to sour, reeking of irritation.

“Ooh! I remember hearing Y/N dated a guy during high school. That’s probably why she wasn’t able to date much?” Ningning suggests, and you wanted to kick her out of the room. Was anyone just not able to pick out on social cues? Was everyone not able to notice how uncomfortable you looked?

Seoyeon’s eyes enlarged in alarm, “Y/N dated before?” Despite the distressing situation, you almost slipped out a laugh, you were always known for your strong dislike towards romance and men and you liked it that way. You guess the impression still hasn’t changed.

He’s in the exact same room right now, you wanted to spit out. Your face hardens, but you don’t say anything. 

“What’s the big deal? We were barely anything anyway.”

Ningning does not get your clue, instead, she looks more confused than ever. “Huh? From what I heard; you both were pretty serious.”

“You never told me anything about him,” Seoyeon complains, grabbing your arm and repeatedly swinging it around. With everyone’s attention on you, your usual ‘i-hate-everyone’ façade falls into dust.

You snort, keeping your tone casual, “About what? He was barely anyone special, in the first place.”

A bunch of unanimous curious ‘oohs’ were heard around the room. “Oohlala, spill. What made the relationship end?”

You take a thoughtful pause, as if it was the first time you were giving it thought, “He was selfish.” A shrug.

You ensure that the whole table hears your answer, especially him. Ningning scrunches her nose in distaste at your answer, “Ugh, typical. Boys really aren’t shit.”

“You’d give your entire world to them, and they decide that it’s not enough. Discontented assholes.” Lee comments with a bunch of insults thrown away without regard, and the Seoyeon pretends to vomit at the mention of boys. “Dirtbags. His loss,” is all she says.

You really don’t have any idea of what to do in this situation.

A strangled noise escapes Jungwon, and he covers it up with loud coughs. He looked like he’s just been badly burned, and you try to casually shift in your seat. The rest of the group takes it as a cue to ask him the same question as well, figuring he wanted to be included.

“And what about you, newbie?” Jake notices, an effort to try to get Jungwon to feel included. “Ever dated before?”

He stares blankly in response. A glance your way, and it takes a fraction of a second for you to avert your eyes away. You hope no one caught that. A moment. Or two. Until, “No, never.” Casually, with a helpless shrug before his attention was back on his phone. He doesn’t even regard that you were ever a part of his past.

Your insides clenches on their own.

That was it. The signal. You were back to being notoriously known for your cold behavior, good grades, and popular game with men, while Jungwon was back into his reputation of being a cute and care-free affectionate and loveable brat that would never do anyone wrong. 

Everything was back the way it started.

Rewind. A start over. Where Jungwon doesn’t get to see the nurturing, caring, childish, and mischievous side of you, and where you never got to see the depth to him: his coolness and his silence. The eyebrow lifts, his head-pats, his reliability, his loyalty, his promises, his stories, his determination – everything about him that everyone missed, that was simply nothing now.

We’ll never be those kids again.

Your phone buzzes.

[02:52 pm] yang jungwon: i figured u didn’t want them to know.

[02:54pm] yang jungwon: are you mad?

Both your eyes meet in the midst of the others bickering with each other.

All the remnants of history erased.

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↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

[ JUNGWON'S POV: 1 YEAR AGO ]

“I’ve been looking for you all night!” she skips, twirling in front of him, “What d’you think? I figured you might like this outfit.” She had an annoying voice, and was definitely way too clingy. Black long hair or something, honestly, any of the faces he’s seen were all only just blank and empty to him.

Jungwon doesn’t even regard her existence.

“C’mon ~” The girl drags, tugging at his arm. He doesn’t even know her name. He’s probably crossed by her more than a couple times with the way she was acting.

She was annoying. Not like you at all. No one was like you.

Jungwon was already in a sour mood. “You’ve been stuck at the couch all night, you lame-dummy!” She points a dragging finger to his chest, “No one wants to be a lame-dummy, c’mon, come with me! It’ll be fun,” she tries to persuade in a sing-song voice, inviting him in.

It doesn’t shake him by the least.

He shakes his head, shortly emitting a single scoff in irritation as he jerks away the hand on his shoulder. His tense facial features say everything. Without saying another word, he chooses to leave the room quietly and awkwardly without bidding goodbye to the other friends who invited him.

These parties were useless. Everything was useless. Every day was too boring and empty without meaning.

He had no place here.

This wasn’t where he belonged.

He damn well still belonged to that person he always has belonged to.

You.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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[09:12 pm] yang jungwon: hello bo ;]

[09:12 pm] yang jungwon: i hope u had a good day :)

[09:17 pm] yang jungwon: i’m always here if u need me

[09:17 pm] yang jungwon: just so you know 

[09:17 pm] yang jungwon: i’ll always be there

[09:20 pm] yang jungwon: and i hope i crossed your mind at least once..

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A FEW DAYS LATER

You were beyond thankful to have Seoyeon around him to save yourself the awkward interactions.

She was the icebreaker. The only factor that allowed you to act as if Jungwon wasn’t there in the first place and ignore his existence. Given that she was an icebreaker, she was also clueless. 

She had no idea of the hatred you had for him - or the reluctance to look his way, much more interact with him. It wasn’t her fault, but you wish you rather didn’t have to explain the situation to her as the only option for her to stop trying to get you and Jungwon to talk.

“Wasn’t yesterday fun? It was nice having new people around,” she brings up as a conversation starter. Jungwon was minding his business working on his project on the side, the both of you had your free time. You politely smile at her, and you know it looks genuine. Explaining things to her wasn’t ideal – you shudder that the possibilities that would happen once you’d confess the situation.

Maybe Jungwon was a private secret of your past that you were never meant to bring up to those in your present.

“That reminds me, who’s the group you hang out with? We really should hang out more.” She slightly frowns before adding, “You’re really fun!”

“You too,” you add with a half grin, and you genuinely mean it. You kindly nod in agreement with a laugh, desperate to end the topic – but Seoyeon doesn’t cease her intent of giving up her first question.

She smiles at you expectantly as she awaits for an answer, and though you know she’s really just trying to make friends, if awkward topics were all that she was going to be bringing up around you, you would rather not converse with her at all. “Oh uh, that question,” you forced a laugh that comes out awkward, “no one else, really.”

Her lips form a small ‘o’ shape, apologizing for intruding. She softly gasps, alarmed, “Really? To be honest, I think it’s because everyone’s intimidated of you. It was until a few seconds ago that the whole campus figured you had countless of friend groups. Me included.”

You furiously shake your head at her, making a dreadful face in which she giggles at, “Oh God, no.” you comment, “it’s really just me,” you pause, “and Riki of course. Riki. Me and Riki. No one else. Kind of a loner,” you coughed out an awkward ramble, but Seoyeon never even seemed to mind.

“That’s cool, neither way! I get to have you to myself,” she teases lightheartedly as she links her arm around yours.

You were too flustered to notice that Jungwon had heard everything.

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THAT EVENING

[10:21 pm] yang jungwon: hi love

[10:22 pm] yang jungwon: you must be tired i hope u rest up tonight :)

[10:22 pm] yang jungwon: i’ve really missed u

[11:49 pm] yang jungwon: goodnight love, sweet dreams :) ♡

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By the next day, at the end of class, you’re forced to work with Jungwon at the library for the afternoon. Seoyeon was running late by fifteen minutes. This was the only time you didn’t mind.

The air is cold, and the tension was cutthroat, you could suffocate, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Starting a friendly conversation? Why even bother?

You decided to ask him straightforward the moment he tries to initiate conversation by asking you a question, cutting him off, “What are you pulling at?” you blankly stared at him, pokerfaced. Maybe you went off too aggressive, but his face slacks; he was definitely accustomed to your whole act of ignoring his existence, and probably never expected you to even spare a glance his way.

A long pause before he regains his composure, “What do you mean?” his voice is a lot quieter and controlled compared to the past. Now that you notice it, he’s changed in a lot of ways. He’s no longer the bright happy-go-lucky rascal that you were once familiar with. No longer the one who didn’t care about grades, but the one sitting beside you at one of the best universities. He’s … matured a lot.

“The messages?” cutting directly into it, your eyes narrowed on him, “what are you trying to pull at?” you interrogate him. Tell me lies. Tell me the truth. Tell me you’re leaving. Tell me you’re staying.

Surprise is written all over his face, catching him off gaurd, “They’re nothing,” he clears his throat, words getting caught in the midst of it. “I just thought … I, um,” he trailed off, avoiding direct eye contact.

Your hard gaze doesn’t falter, patience running thin. “Spit it out, Yang.”

He winces at your tone, and you wished you hadn’t seen that. “I just thought that you needed it. Not needed it exactly, but, well, I assumed - I wanted to let you know -” he doesn’t finish his sentence, but starts another one instead, “I just miss you,” he states, and he’s looking at you - you remember that kind of look. The kind of look that would once tug at your heartstrings.  

Once.

You don’t know what Yang Jungwon is pulling at.

Hm. 

You stare down hard at him - eyes narrowed, prospecting, judging, and surveying. You no longer tremble at his words. You don’t falter. Have you grown immune to them? Maybe you were sincerely and truly over him after all.

He was pulling at his charms. His thoughtfulness - the little aspects that’d make you believe that he actually cared; the things you so easily fell into. Not anymore. Not after you believed, once. 

Once was enough. It’s all a simple game to him, isn’t it?

The day you break down in front of him and let him hold the strings again would be the day you would die.

Not showing a flicker of emotion, you nonchalantly tsked, irritated, “Don’t bother again, will you?” 

Jungwon doesn’t say anything, but you feel his lingering stare.

Your settling glare on the textbook in front of you could burn holes. You let him go – you dismiss him, but he never leaves his spot.

Why does he always linger behind?

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[01:03pm] yang jungwon: i don’t know if we should be alone together

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[02:54pm] yang jungwon: i really can’t control myself when you’re around

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[04:23pm] yang jungwon: i miss the old you

[04:26pm] yang jungwon: im sorry

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How much was it going to take for you to admit that you felt the same?

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[05:33pm] yang jungwon: just so you know i didn’t mean it that way

[05:33pm] yang jungwon: i just noticed that you’ve changed

[05:33pm] yang jungwon: of course you’ve changed

[05:35pm] yang jungwon: you don’t look at me the same anymore

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[04:47am] yang jungwon: hi bo

[04:47am] yang jungwon: im sorry but i cant

[04:48am] yang jungwon: i really cant let you go

message delivered

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A FEW WEEKS LATER

It didn’t take much for her to piece together. She noticed the pattern of behavior from you, your sour and aggravated persona, and Jungwon’s desperate efforts, then figured you were probably his ex.

“You know,” she clicks her tongue, “the thing about love and hate is that there’s a very thin line between them.”

She squints, fingers fiddling around with a penny as she tries to explain, “they’re two sides of the same coin.”

You made a face. She’s been going about this for hours and showed no sign of stopping. Whining, you turn her way, “what are you taking about this time?”

A grin. She raises both her brows in surrender, “You guys got a lot of unfinished business.”

You give her a look, unimpressed.

“The guy nearly snapped his head yesterday the moment he heard you laugh because he wanted to know what you were laughing about,” Seoyeon stares down at you steadily, provoked that you managed to toss the fact over too easily.

You throw her a crumpled piece of paper, and she easily dodges your throw. “Sure.” you snort, barely feigning any interest.

“Cut him some slack! He was your ex for goodness’ sake, some feelings for him still have to be there at some point. You can’t hate your ex that much without actually-maybe-probably loving them,” she singsongs teasingly. This was lighthearted, you knew, but. 

You deadpanned. Feelings. 

She has got to be serious.

Some feelings still have to be there.

Your heart didn’t feel anything.

Not anymore.

She stares at you in the silence, faking astonishment.

Her mouth forms a small ‘o’, “You’ve got to be serious.”

You only blink at her.

“Stop … don’t you feel anything for him anymore? Or is it like … nothing at all?” Of course, she was talking about him, you knew that - but why were you suddenly caught off guard? This was crazy.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

No one has ever asked you this question.

How were you going to answer that?

You resented him.

You were angry. More than pissed.

You hated everything about him.

Your face scrunches up in disgust at the thought, but you answer her question after a pause, “One thing I know for sure,” you start casually, pausing in consideration, “is that I don’t want to see that annoying face of his again.”

You meant every word, this time.

You were willing to do whatever it took for that to happen.

At that moment, Seoyeon then concludes that the both of you had unfinished business. Jungwon was clearly not over you, anyone with a mile radius could see that. The boy was drop-dead crazy for you.

The more you try and repress feelings, the larger it grows.

How cliché does that sound?

She tilts her head to the side, glancing your way. But in a way, she knew it wasn’t one-sided, either.

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[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ all too well by taylor swift ]

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ 

“Jungwon?” you whispered incredulously. Rubbing your eyes due to your half-asleep state, you leaned your frame against your door with your worry starting to alarm you awake. “What’re you doing here?”

Standing at your apartment door, your boyfriend appeared rugged, his eyes tired and drowsy. You noticed his clothes were still of what you saw him wear yesterday morning. your heart ached to see him in such a state, concluding he had spent the whole day producing, working, and overworking himself without rest. You hated whenever he did this to himself.

Seeing you frown, Jungwon pulls you to his embrace, wrapping you around his arms with a contented sigh, “Just wanted to see my baby,” he mumbles out incoherently, fighting through sleep, “I’ve missed you.”

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You clung onto him, your face still at a cloudy state of haze – unreservedly astounded. Meanwhile on the other hand, Jungwon continues to laugh over your dumbfounded look. He pinches the sides of your cheeks, cooing over at you. As you try to wriggle yourself away, you found yourself embracing your figure back into his arms to squeeze his waist tightly in fear that he might disappear. He teases you at the action, lightheartedly calling you his little koala, but you don’t miss the endearing tone to his voice – or the way his breath hitches from your embrace.

“You’re here,” you managed to breathe out to yourself, burying your forehead against his neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, you desperately hoped to the gods above that the moment you opened them, everything wasn’t just going to turn out as another dream of yours. You could barely process much more comprehend what was going on, ‘he’s here, he’s here, he’s here’ were the only notions you could formulate by the slightest, chanting through your brainwork repeatedly for you to comprehend. Humorously, you didn’t wonder how he was possibly here, or why. He shouldn’t be - he was too busy. 

You didn’t think about the fact that he’s supposed to be halfway across the world working on his production, and definitely not here. Inhaling his scent, your ongoing worries and stress had seemed to evaporate, your form relaxing almost immediately. He smelled like home.

The loud chatters and distinctive outside noise from people passing by that surrounded the both of you, along the fact that the both of you were in a public place – all had seemed to drown out and appear forgotten. You clung to his warm figure after months of being apart, out of all the days you’d secretly dreamed about him surprising you, you never figured today was going to be that day. You clasped onto him even tighter, your smile growing wider by the second, it’s been quite some time since you ever felt half this happy.

He let out a low vibrating laugh with your face pressed against his chest, engulfing you tightly around his hold whilst swaying the both of you side to side. It was little moments and acts of efforts like these that mattered most to you. You drowned yourself at the rhythm and sound of his heartbeat that spoke the words the both of you already knew; he had missed you.

“I promised, didn’t I?”

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Maybe you were always too busy for Yang Jungwon when the both of you dated.

Maybe that was it.

Maybe that was the reason why.

Or maybe he simply always seeking attention from you, constantly and childishly. He complained about you studying too much as he started sulking alone was, he wandered around the place ‘miserably’, while you were trying to place your focus on your book, refusing to give into him again.

A little later and he tossed the fact that he had to pick up some errands, and you volunteered to help accompany him since he mentioned that he’d only be out for a while.

But after picking up the things he had acquired through his errands, the rain was against your luck and poured heavily. You cursed at yourself, having brought no umbrella with you. Looking at Jungwon, you could judge immediately by then that he didn’t bring one as well.

“Running for it sounds pretty good,” you suggested with a beam on your face, but you noticed how Jungwon huffed in disagreement, not approving of the idea; worrying that the rain might get you hurt or sick as he starts pulling out deliberate excuses and reasons.

“It’s too slippery out in the rain, you might fall,”

“Car accidents happen more often in the rain,”

“You’ll get sick, can you afford to be sick at a time like this?”

You ignored all his protests when you decided to just audaciously leave the store entrance before walking into the rain without any given warning.

He doesn’t say anything, and when you glanced back at him in question, you immediately noticed how visibly irritated he was with you misbehaving and ignoring him. Jungwon was always overly protective over you.

Though you appreciated it, his over-protectiveness wasn’t something you exactly needed at this time of your mid-terms. You just needed to study, and Jungwon could simply work on his music. The place you were at wasn’t too far from home, so it wasn’t exactly too absurd to make a run for it. 

His eyes zeroed on you, giving no humor in his eyes, “Come back in here.”

You looked at him with fake-pleading eyes, “I left my notes back home,” you frowned.

“I don’t care. You are not getting sick.”

He wanted to sit the rain out, of course he did. But you didn’t know when the rain was going to stop, or if it ever showed any signs of stopping, in the first place. Just by your boyfriend’s tone itself, you knew you got yourself in trouble. That was not a good sign, he would always pull some crazy idea that would always try to teach you a lesson. 

You didn’t move an inch from your spot.

Jungwon hurdled at you once he realizes that you were being stubborn, wrapping his arms around your waist securely regardless of the hefty downpour of rain, “Step another foot further and I’ll make sure you’ll never be touching your beloved notes again.”

“Ugh, Yang Jungwon, are you crazy?” you argued, trying to untangle yourself from him but his firm grip wouldn’t let you go.

“Jungwon, I’m serious! I really need to study, I have my exams—!”

“Aish, you’d be on your deathbed, and you wouldn’t even think of me at all, you would only care about studying!” he contested nonsensically as he dramatically complains.

You scowled at his comment, your face souring as you try wriggling yourself out of his grasp even harder, “Yah, you rascal!”

“Come back inside and I’ll let you go,” he conditions, a small grin showing that he had won. You glower at him, but having no choice but to subit and wait the next two hours by the porch of the store for the rain to subside. He covers you by towering in front of you, ensuring that you weren’t going to get hit by the rain.

Jungwon was a lot of maintenance - a lot of people would say, but he was adorable.

And most of all, he was yours. 

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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PRESENT [ JUNGWON'S POV ]

Jungwon spends the rest of his night at school fixing up your science project, without an ounce of sleep.

He finds Sunoo dropping by the room, slightly jumping in surprise at the sight of him there. He covers his chest with his hand, “What the hell are you doing here?” he lightheartedly scolds him.

But he pauses squinting at him, “Were you . . .” his eyes widen, “Dude, did you spend the entire night here?” he asks Jungwon, bewildered. “Doing . . .” he tilts his head, taking a peek, and his mouth hangs open as he finally pieces things together, “-Y/N’s science lab project . . .?”

Sunoo’s eyes almost budge out of his sockets. “Isn’t this what Y/N’s been worrying crazy about –? How did you –?”

He couldn’t exactly admit that he’s overheard you complaining about your project and begging others to help you with it miserably. He knew you always took your grades seriously, but, how could he explain this to Sunoo of all people?

Jungwon looks conflicted, immediately standing away from your project. He was finished wish it, anyway. He just needed to get here undetected by you. Kim Sunoo was a problem, however. There was no way Sunoo wasn’t not telling you about this.

“Don’t tell her I did this,” Jungwon tells him, reading Sunoo’s next moves.

His eyes dart from the project to Jungwon. He frowns, confused. “Why not?”

Jungwon hesitates with his words, being careful. “Just because. Don’t.” What the hell can he say? The bell rings, and he panics. 

“She has a hell of an ego, you know this. Tell her you fixed this or something. I don’t know. Make some shit up.”

He scurries out the lab but hangs behind at the entrance door for a few seconds.

Jungwon emphasizes what he’s told Sunoo. “I’m counting on you, bro.”

He slips away like a ghost.

Sunoo tells you that Ningning and Jake helped with your final lab project, and you believed it – eyes sparkling with relief and complete utter gratitude. You wondered how they got to finish the project in a day. They were the chemistry experts of the class, anyway – who were you to question them?

Sunoo sees Jungwon at the side of the room looking at you and your project. He watches him watch you. How happy you were with the project, and the endless showering of compliments. Was he really just . . . not going to tell you?

Sunoo takes a look at both you and Jungwon and scratches his head in utter confusion. What was going on with the both of you?

He has no idea what that boy is hiding.

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A FEW DAYS LATER IN THAT WEEK

Jungwon really was getting in your nerves.

On your way to class, you did nothing but mind your own business when he swirls out of nowhere and pushes you aside, refraining you from entering the classroom. You furrow your eyebrows in annoyance, trying to wriggle away from his grasp, but his grip stays firm. He’s holding the sides of both your arms to let you stay in place, looking anxious and rushed. “Wait.”

“Yang Jungwon, what the hell?”

He tries to find words to say, but he can’t find any. “I . . . like the color of your hair. Did you dye it?”

Your stare is blank. “What?”

“I need recommendations. I might use it too, so –“

“This is my natural hair color.” you deadpan, without an ounce of friendliness, “now if you’ll excuse me –”

“No! Gah,” he lets out a frustrated noise, rushed, “. . . the speech report! I need help in –“

He was messing with you. He had to be.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to do,” you try to breathe in calmly, but you were talking through your gritted teeth. “You submitted your speech report last week,” you hissed, your patience running thin.

You finally wriggle yourself free from his grasp, and that was when the panic was evident in Jungwon’s features.

You barely get to move an inch before, “Do you still have hang-ups on me?” He rushes out of nowhere, an attempt of desperation.

What?

To say that you were at a loss for words was an understatement.

You freeze. Staring at him, dumbfounded.

Were you simply a joke to him?

What was he saying? He was desperate, willing to just have your attention anywhere else. You could not enter the room. That was his plan.

You were trying to regain composure. Clamping your jaw down hard, your eyes narrowed. “Please, kindly fuck off.”

You stalk away, pissed off.

As soon as he ensured that you were walking the opposite direction, and Jungwon heaves a small sigh of relief. At least.

He budges the door classroom open – the room he had noticed that a couple of asshats were trying to pull on harsh pranks on – and immediately, an old tray of leftover food spills from above, falling flat on the floor instead as Jungwon dodges it from anticipating this beforehand.

And you piece thing and thing together.

This was what he was driving you away from?

Because that could’ve been you.

His eyes settle on the group of bullies seated at the end of the room. He cracks his knuckles. Jungwon’s eyes have never been so deadly.

Jungwon comes in class later with a purple bruise coloring his upper left cheek, and a busted lip.

You don’t ask him the story, but instead, you assume the worst in him. Like you always do.

He’s up to no good.

He always was.

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[08:12pm] yang jungwon: are you going?

[08:21pm] you: ?

[08:21pm] yang jungwon: oh hi love

[08:22pm] yang jungwon: are you coming to gyeonju tower tomorrow? i wanted to tell you in person today but you seemed like u were in a rush to leave

[08:24pm] you: ? what do you want

[08:25pm] yang jungwon: i wanted to explain things

[08:25pm] yang jungwon: and explain myself

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[08:53pm] yang jungwon: i want to make things right

[08:54pm] yang jungwon: please let me, bo

[08:54pm] you: im busy.

[08:57pm] yang jungwon: i’ll be waiting for you tomorrow at 1pm

[09:00pm] you: i said im not going.

[09:02pm] yang jungwon: just one chance, please

[09:04pm] yang jungwon: one last one

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You didn’t care, you weren’t going.

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THE FOLLOWING DAY

You’ve decided that you wouldn’t go.

You won’t go.

You won’t go, end of discussion.

You spent the last night considering it until two in the morning. You’ve finalized your decision. “This is a no-brainer. Who does he think he is? I’m not giving him the satisfaction,” you rant morely to yourself - it was almost as if you werer trying to convince yourself instead.

You tug at the ends of your hair in frustration, hissing. Both Ningning and Seoyeon watches you in silent amusement after being told of the situation. The two were the only ones who knew about you and Jungwon, and the only two who you’ve been ranting to for the past two hours.

“I’m not going,” you repeat aggravatedly, exclaiming as you fling your arms. You pace around the room. 

Ningning languidly lazes around the chair as you frantically pace around the room, “So you’ve told us for the past forty six times,” she can’t help but comment, fighting away her grin. You scowl at her, grabbing the strap of your bag to sling it around your shoulder.

“You guys are annoying. I’m leaving.”

Both Seoyeon and Ningning stare after you, waving you goodbye at your stressed state.

Ningning props herself up with her elbows, leaning her cheek with the palm of her hands as soon as you’ve left the room. She stares at Seoyeon, who was mindlessly scrolling through her phone, “She’s definitely going, isn’t she?”

Seoyeon tosses the bag of chips that she’s been hogging Ningning’s way - which she accepts immediately, munching down on the ones on her palm with disinterest, “Yep.”

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LATER, 1 PM

You tug awkwardly at your sleeve, eyes searching for a certain figure in mind as they bunglingly dart around the place.

So, maybe you really did end up going to the tower. Just to check things out. That was it. And maybe see if he was there. If he really showed up. Hear what he wanted to say if it was important. Nothing more. You felt bad just leaving him alone - you weren’t like him, intentionally leaving someone on for hours to wait for you. 

You had a conscience. You simply showed up because you didn’t want to be burdened by it. 

You don’t know how long you waited on the first half of the period under the heat of the sun from the tower, but by the time you take out your phone to check the time, it was half past one in the afternoon.

Tick-tok.

Tick-tok.

You stare at your phone’s lock screen, expecting a text from Jungwon to pop up any second to inform you that he was probably running late. Anything.

An hour passes by.

You figure you’d give him another thirty minutes. Just another thirty minutes. If he wasn’t going to show up, you didn’t care anymore. You would leave.

It was past 30 minutes.

Another hour passes by.

Until rain starts to lightly drizzle.

Until clouds start to darken.

Until your legs start to ache.

And until you were soaking and clothes drenched with water in the pouring heavy rain.

Again.

Until it dawns on you.

Jungwon isn’t here.

He wasn’t coming.

He was never going to.

And there you were, standing alone stupidly – a fool. A fool who never learned her lesson after two years.

He was enjoying this; toying with you, he’s got to be.

You don’t know why you really expected anything else from him.

A heavy exhale.

You don’t know why you hoped you did.

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You get a call from Jungwon by the evening. You were dumbly weak enough to easily get manipulated to answer the phone.

He sounded frantic, “Hello? Y/N? I’m so sorry, I wasn’t able to attend our meet-up. I’m - I’m really sorry, I was really planning to go -” You wish you could believe him.

“Yeah. It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” you sound too monotone for your words to sound like you meant them.

“I’m so sorry that you waited on me, I promise I’ll make it up to -” No more promises. No more, Jungwon. I can’t take anymore.

You harshly cut him off, oppressive. “What do you mean? I didn’t come. I told you I won’t, didn’t I?”

You still had your dignity. Lies were all that you had left. You’d lie just for Jungwon to not get that sense of satisfaction from you. You wouldn’t let him.

He is silent, “Yeah, I know.”

You inhale, vexed. Your eyes flicker around the room, feeling flighty with apprehension. “What’s up, anyway? What held you from coming?” you made an effort to sound as casual as possible bringing it up, as if you didn’t care. As if you didn’t spend the whole afternoon drenched in pouring rain waiting for him.

A long silent pause again. You could tell he was hesitating to answer.

He tries to let out a lighthearted laugh as he waves it off, "It’s nothing.” 

It was nothing, again. It’s always nothing. Were you ever something - anything - to him?

It takes a moment for you to register his response. How effortlessly care-free he was about it. Your tone appears tight, “Okay. Well, it’s good that you weren’t able to go. I wasn’t there anyway.” You didn’t know what else to say other than stressing that you never came. That you didn’t care.

Lie.

“Oh,” is what Jungwon replies with, he sounded distracted - like his mind wasn’t in the conversation. He wasn’t interested in talking to you anyway, why did he bother calling? 

You grit at your teeth, “I’m not a fool, Jungwon.”

You don’t know if he’s even listening to you, you start to question. It takes long for him to respond, “I know.”

He was being as short with his responses as ever. Was this what he called explaining himself? You doubt if he ever cared about making it up to you in the first place. You try to hide your disappointment in your tone with impatience, “Is that all? I’m gonna go now. I’m busy.”

You don’t wait for his reply.

You immediately end the call and toss your phone as far as you could.

You hope that was worth it for Jungwon.

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[ JUNGWON’S POV ] . . . what really happened

Jungwon woke up three hours earlier that day.

When Jungwon was getting himself dressed, a boy from across the city was still sleeping through his alarm that he wasn’t able to set the night before. Meanwhile, a girl was waiting somewhere in the city’s lobby, waiting for her boyfriend to pick her up.

While that happened, Jungwon was on his way to a jewelry shop to buy you a gift. He was beyond excited to see you. The boy from across the city was still sleeping, but the girl’s boyfriend eventually came to pick her up. On the other side, Jungwon had forgotten his credit card, and had no other option to pay by cash.

By this time, the sleeping boy’s mother barges into the boy’s room to wake him up as he was late for class – and asking him if he spent another late night playing with his friends. The girl in her boyfriend’s car receives a text from her ex while her boyfriend stops by to pick up the cake they ordered for their anniversary.

Jungwon was nearly at the Gyeonju tower when the boy who was running late for class stumbled out of the house, got on his bike, and peddled as fast as he could. The girl was already texting her ex-boyfriend by this time, and before she could tuck her phone away as soon as her boyfriend got into the car, the boyfriend had caught her already.

All the while the couple slowly started to argue about her talking to her ex, Jungwon was stuck in traffic and anxiously waiting – frustrated. Though he had more than an hour to spare, he wanted to see you as quickly as possible. This was the moment of his life that meant most to him. The boy who was running late took a wrong turn because he was not on the right state of mind, still half-asleep.

The couple argued all the way to the girlfriend’s parents’ house while the boy in the bike running late was trying to find his way out of the unfamiliar place, completely flustered. Jungwon had already arrived at Gyeonju tower, parking his car before trying to fix up his hair. He never really cared about how he looked like, but Jungwon’s nerves were jittering. This was the first time he was so anxious to see you.

And finally, at the same time, the boy was too distracted to see the couple’s car in front of him – as well as the couple, as they were still too busy arguing. Jungwon had just gotten out of the car, crossing the road.

It all happened too quickly.

If the son had set his alarm the day before and wasn’t running late for his class, if the girl hadn’t picked up the call from her ex-boyfriend, if couple hadn’t been arguing while the boyfriend was driving, or if Jungwon didn’t take his time in the car mirror trying to make sure he looked good for you - then maybe he would’ve gotten to meet you that night.

Maybe he wouldn’t have gotten into that car accident.

Maybe none of this would’ve be happening right now.

Life is a series of multiple interactions, they said.

The next situation Jungwon finds himself in was lying still – unable to move – in the hospital emergency room with blood – his blood? – covered all over his clothes, and when he gains the smallest bit of energy to barely open his eyes, he feels like he’s lost everything all over again.

In spite of all the events, he remembers you.

Your smile.

And his promise.

But he blacks out.

.

.

.

The moment Jungwon awakes into consciousness, his first thought isn’t what he was doing in an emergency room hospital, all alone. It isn’t wondering why he had blood all over his clothes, or why his body physically hurt too much for him to move.

His first thought was you.

His first thought was always going to be you. Where were you? What-? He sees the small bag settled beside him, squinting at it - before realizing it was for you. For the meeting. Today. Shit. In less than half a second, he ignores the pins and needles of his skin feeling like it was being stretched out just to reach his phone and dial your number. 

“Hello? Y/N? I’m so sorry, I wasn’t able to attend our meet-up. I’m - I’m really sorry, I was really planning to go -”

Your tone interrupts him midway, seemingly clipped and tight. “Yeah. It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” were you mad? Guessing by the tone of your voice, you seemed upset. Lord, he begged for that one chance you gave him and he had to go through this out of all the occasions?

You pinches the bridge of his nose after running a hand through his hair, cursing inwardly. How many more chances could you give him? You would never believe him ever again. “I’m so sorry that you waited on me, I promise I’ll make it up to -” 

Your response hits him right in the gut, harder and more painful than any of the stitches and bandages he had being freshly reopened. “What do you mean? I didn’t come. I told you I won’t, didn’t I?”

His throat constricts, eyes lowering as the grip on the phone tightens, “Yeah, I know.” He hangs his head low. 

You shrug it off with disinterest, your tone indifferent. “What’s up, anyway? What held you from coming?”

He hesitates, glancing down at the patches of bandages and stitches. He doesn’t try to explain. He doesn’t want you to know. What could he say to cover things up? He tries to avoid sounding suspicious with a lighthearted laugh, “It’s nothing.”

God, it sounded fake.

Your indifference rings through his mind over and over again. Did you really not care about him anymore? Did you really mean it when you said you weren’t going to go? A sharp stab in the heart each time the thought rings through him.

A pause.

“Okay. Well, it’s good that you weren’t able to go. I wasn’t there anyway.”

“Oh,” was all Jungwon could respond with, he was beginning to feel dizzy - overwhelmed and exhausted. A sharp buzz rang deaf through his ears.

The room started to spin as you continued through the call – unaware, “I’m not a fool, Jungwon,” you remind him. Was it really the end?

Has he finally lost you?

He doesn’t know what to say, but he couldn’t deny the fact that it hurt. Everything hurts. Fuck. A long pause, “I know.”

“Is that all? I’m gonna go now. I'm busy,” you harshly end things, not bothering to expant the conversation or on the details. You don’t push him. You don’t care.

The line went dead.

A piece of him along with it died too.

Jungwon sits at one of the emergency room’s beds alone and he realizes that the hospital could heal all his physical wounds and scars, but he doesn’t think the internal pain he’s feeling could be treated.

A nurse that was passing by finds him passed out, unconscious, and unresponsive only long minutes later.

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.

.

A WEEK LATER

Initially, you had planned to keep away from Jungwon at all costs the moment classes started again. He could suffer all he needed.

But.

You don’t see Jungwon.

Not that you cared if he was around - it was a relief to you that you didn’t have to deal with him, but didn’t you .. deserve an explanation? 

No.

That’s right. An explanation from Jungwon for ditching you was something you would never get. That hasn’t changed, and you were a fool for believing otherwise. 

You repeatedly sneak glances by his desk - anywhere, for a sign of him. It was useless to ask anyone else. His friends? When had Jungwon ever tried talking to somebody that wasn’t you? 

Not that you ever took notice, either. 

It’s been a week.

Seconds tick by slowly, and lectures drag in what seems like hours. It comes to the point where you almost decide on texting his number and demanding where he was. It took every part of yourself to manage to not do so.

Your notifications remained empty this time.

No messages. No calls.

He’s gone again.

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.

.

THREE WEEKS LATER [JUNGWON’S POV ]

With a fractured arm and multiple wounds and stitches, Jungwon had to opt to wait three weeks before he was able to attend classes again.

He only looks forward to seeing your face.

To explain everything to you.

He messed up again.

Maybe you were looking for him? It’s been three weeks, maybe you had wondered for a fraction where he went all of a sudden? Maybe you were worried? Maybe you were concerned? Or maybe you didn’t care? Maybe you were celebrating right now?

He flinches that the thought. 

He spots you by the hallways after his hour long search around the campus. You barely looked bothered at all. That was fine, Jungwon reminded himself. He walks his way towards you with the gift he had bought you weeks prior, when the accident had happened. The gift he had protected with his life to save, and had held on for weeks to give to you. If he wasn’t going to explain things, he at least wanted to give you the gift he had picked for you. 

He thinks you’d look pretty in it. 

However, as soon as he tries to open his mouth to speak to you once he was close enough for you to hear him, you coldly ignore him entirely. You pack up your things once you hear the bell, ringing just in time for classes to start. You barely even spare him a single glance.

You walk past him like was invincible.

Like you couldn’t care any less of what happened to him.

It turns out, you were never worried at all.

That fucking him hurt more than being hit by a car a hundred times ever did.

.

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[01:24 pm] yang jungwon: im sorry

[01:29 pm] yang jungwon: can we talk?

[read]

You blocked yang jungwon’s number that day.

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[JUNGWON . . . ]

Seoyeon made you laugh.

It was unintentional, he guessed. But she made you laugh. In a way. Other’s might’ve called it a snort. It was a goofy side-comment he made when you expanded the instructions on the chapter needed to be finished. He felt himself destructing and freezing while his heart soared and ripped itself apart. He swore he was flying while being drowned six feet under at the same time.

As someone who spent his entire life on music, Yang Jungwon has heard many sounds. Various melodies and tunes, but none of them were like yours. He’s been walking around tone-deaf for the past few years because it was like he forgot the way your laugh sounded and the way it made him feel like he could do anything.

It was like you immediately regretted it - laughing with him in the room, and maybe his emotions were written all over his face because Jungwon was losing you all over again when you disclose your emotions off once again from him. Then he’s all but greeted with a cold face - an effect of the mess he caused.

He remembers the time where you were his to call, and now, you couldn’t even stand to look at him - or be in the same room as him. He remembers the time where you would look at him and the way your eyes would light up, and now, he looks at your eyes for a fraction of a second and they’re dead. Once vibrant and easy to read - now empty and desolate. Nobody is home. They’re emotionless for him.

Your eyes only tell lies now.

You’ll never be like the way you used to be again.

To think that he ruined it. That he ruined a smile that ran so deep and had so much meaning. A smile that was always for him. A soul that had so much love and kindness for him. He shattered that. That was because of him.

He remembers the time where receiving ‘I love you’s from you were everyday like routines to you, and he compares it with the flash irritation that would cross your face and the petty tone of anger he would get from you every time he tried talking to you. 

You’ve changed.

He doesn’t know what those two years have done to you.

What he’s done to you.

Maybe he really messed it up. Maybe he should run and leave and never see you again so he would stop hurting you and fucking you up over and over again. Maybe he should let you move on and let you be happy with someone else. Maybe he should just stop hoping because the gods above know that they don’t trust him with you alone. 

It was killing him.

Jungwon couldn’t do any of that.

Getting to see you every day - it was already much of a blessing compared to the two years in the shithole he went through without you, waking up to feel nothing but empty - if it’s not endlessly torturing and tormenting himself for putting you through what he had to. 

But couldn’t Jungwon be a little selfish? Just this once? Couldn’t he ask for a little bit more?

If Jungwon could admit, he never wanted much, nor has he asked for much either. To say the truth, he doesn’t care about ninety percent of his life: fuck his gods be damned ‘career’, fuck air and water and happiness and money. 

Yang Jungwon was someone that had no interest in the world. He never really got to care about anything. But you. He met you. You were his first. You were all he cared about. You were all that really mattered.

And that was his world.

You were his world.

It’s been two years since he lost you - since he let you go for good, and that was worse than dying. Each moment was as if it was meant to come back at him and break his soul - or whatever’s left of it. All Yang Jungwon gives a damn about is you. 

He was damn well still in love with you, and he was never getting you back.

He’s lost you.

And the separating distance between the both of you proves it better than anything.

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.

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[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ hold me while you wait by lewis capaldi ]

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

THE TWISTING POINT

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.

.

Jungwon wasn’t in a good mood today.

It was most likely because of work, so you didn’t want to question or pressure him into dwelling into it any further. You stayed smiling, knowing that whenever you were down, Jungwon knew exactly what to do. He needed sunshine.

You hear glass shatter, and loud clanging accompanied with it. You sprang upwards, racing to Jungwon’s aid to check yourself if he was hurt.

As you stared at the mess created, and the person who seemingly intentionally created the mess, you only stood by the doorway. 

You knew him, he wasn’t the type to let his anger consume and get the best of him, nor was he the type to physically express his anger. Especially around you. Jungwon loved the idea of you seeing him as a laid-back unique oddball, and you’ve rarely ever seen him irritated or angry. You’ve never seen him like this, however. 

You remained silent; your gaze downcast. Whatever happened in the studio today must have been seriously rough enough to affect him into a state like this. 

The room is too silent. “Won?” He loves being called that name; he’s told you. It gets him erupting with happiness in no time, but why isn’t it working now? 

Why does Jungwon’s eyes look so empty?

“Can you leave?” he asks you when you try to help clean up the broken shards of glass, finally uttering a word after the first time you’ve seen him today. 

“I don’t need you here right now.”  

Jungwon sees the way you freeze. The way confusion flashes over your face. The way your hopeful and gentle eyes crack by a fraction.

Jungwon sees it all.

You purse your lip in hesitation, worried, but you follow his request with a nod nonetheless as you quietly slip out of the room. I’m always here for you if you need me.

Jungwon feels nothing but emptiness.

.

.

.

“Jungwon, you’ve missed two meals.”

He’s stuck in his music room. Again. Your lips pull into a forming frown at his state, placing the plate of food that you’ve organized for him at a table nearest to you. 

He only gives you a glance before his attention is back at his music, “I’m kind of busy here,” he blandly reminds you the obvious, and you feel yourself mentally deflate, a bit. 

A pause. You sucked in a breath. “I know, but you shouldn’t skip meals, okay? Take some rests,” you keep your voice gentle, hopeful. 

He barely gives a grunt in reply.

Why didn’t you see that he didn’t want you anymore then?

You swallow, trying in another attempt, “Um, do you need any help in -” Jungwon swivels his chair abruptly, turning completely at you. It’s the first time you see him look at you in a while, “No,” the look in his eyes is something you’d never forget, “I’m fine, Y/N.” And when he turns his back on you, you feel a jab in the gut. 

Ah.

You get the message.

You weren’t wanted around.

“Okay, I’ll uhh … I’ll …” you don’t finish your sentence, merely signaling that you were going to leave, but well aware that Jungwon was already back facing his screen. You don’t think he notices. You don’t think he ever notices anything at all.

No response. Not even a glance your way.

You felt so lonely.

.

.

.

Jungwon was going out again, as he’s all done for the past week.

Maybe you were overthinking all of this, but you felt as if he was doing whatever it took to avoid you. To avoid looking at you. To avoid talking to you. To avoid spending time with you. Of course, it was all in your head. 

He would never hurt you like that, Jungwon was just busy. He was just going through things. He had it rough, you should be considerate.

It was just you alone most of the time, and you started to wonder if he was doing fine. If he needed you, at all.

“Jungwon?”

He turns to you, his body almost out of the door. “Are you okay?” you gently ask him.

He blinks. “I’m fine,” he replies after a pause.

You wanted to help him, whatever he was going through. You wanted to go through it with him together — you wanted to be there for him. “You don’t seem fine,” you try to start, “Jungwon, I’m here for you, you can talk to me if you—”

An exasperated sound of displeasure cuts you off, like a tether piecing everything together that snaps. “Can’t you do anything else other than bother me?” he waves you off, slamming the door in visible distress. He leaves you like that, and he doesn’t have to say anything else to make the wound hurt all the more.

The words left unsaid were enough.

He doesn’t come back the next day.

You wished he’d have told you how he loved you before he left, even if he didn’t mean it.

.

.

.

The air was cold. You know that it was not because of the weather.

Your mind wanders.

Sometimes you consider the fact that there could be someone else.

You wonder where everything started to change, and somedays, the thoughts get heavy and immensely difficult for you to carry. Sometimes they hurt too much to think about. You can’t help but wonder where your love lacked for him, in where you gave him everything. Even if it costed more than you could afford, it was worth it. But was it not for him? Was it not anymore?

It’s hard to fight what was fated.

But you would’ve still ruined yourself to fix him.

Even if there was another person, you think, you just wished he told you - so you would stop foolishly hoping and trying to convince yourself that this was all a sick phase of his that would eventually pass. So, you would stop foolishly assuming that there was ‘together’ and ‘forever’ for the both of you. You wouldn’t insist on it anymore, if that’s what made him happy. Watching him torture himself like that and choosing not to say anything to you was more painful than anything else.

You knew you were not the one in his heart.

This was all going to pass, right?

Jungwon, talk to me.

.

.

.

Jungwon can make it better.

He always has. You could never remember a time where he didn’t come to swoop in and save your day.

Was this the timing in where you realize that things were permanently going to change?

A simple month changes you a lot.

You believed, but you were slowly losing the light.

You gave so many signs.

So many warning signs.

He walked past every single one of them.

You couldn’t be the only one fighting for something that was already gone. Something that was thrown away and given up on. Because you have been, for as long as you can, and you don’t know if you can still continue to allow yourself to put yourself through it - because you don’t know if you can take it. Even if it was just one last time.

But still, you were willing to offer him anything he wanted the moment he needed it. You were ready to run to his side even if it killed you. Waste my time, waste it all.

The painful fake smiles, and pretending if everything was perfectly fine, as if you were okay, and the desperate pair of eyes that he always seemed to ignore.

You don’t know when it would stop.

You could only wish he would stay a bit longer to savor before he was going to make it hurt for you.

You felt the fatigue, then.

It’ll get better soon.

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.

.

THE BREAKING POINT

It was all about him.

You don’t know if you could take this any longer.

“Jungwon?” you called out to him - through the empty house, “I’m tired.” Faintly.

You were washing the dishes after immediately arriving home from your part-time job. No time for giving yourself a rest, or for catching up on the upcoming exam the next day. It was eleven o’clock at night. You heard the door slam, and you knew Jungwon was home.

He could mope around and throw things around. He was entitled to treat you harshly because he was going through a rough time. He could do absolutely nothing. That was how everything worked.

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t cry. You couldn’t pause and rest. You weren’t entitled to feel angry or irritated because you weren’t going through whatever he was going through. You had to take care of him, and you had to endure getting treated that way our you could leave and walk through the door.

The shuffling of footsteps stops. You don’t move. You leave the faucet water running, eyes staring distantly - somewhere. But you don’t look over at him. You know that the courage that you’ve spent months trying to build up would come crashing down the moment you do.

There is no noise, only the running of the water. You know he’s listening.

“I can’t do it anymore,” you bat an eye, and your shoulders ease up a little. There is a certain stillness in the air.

“I feel like I’m just wasting my life in this relationship,” you’ve thought about this. You’ve tried to shrug the feeling off, but you wanted to know if you wanted to fight for him too. “I’m always looking stupid. I’m always left behind,” Isn’t it exhausting for you too, Jungwon? 

Nothing. Silence. No response. 

He wasn’t pushing you.

He wasn’t begging you to stay, like he always did.

He wasn’t going to even just try to change your mind.

He’s letting you go.

That infuriates you further, and you hate that he’s making you feel like you’re being too unreasonable without having to say anything. You hate the words he’s saying to you without even him having to open his mouth. Silence is all you’ve been receiving, hasn’t it? It’s always turning his back. It’s always the cold shoulder, whatever he had to say - he wouldn’t say it. It’s always been that way. Itwas always you that had to adjust. 

You hated this.

You hated this so much.

It was him leaving you alone to your degrading thoughts that would break you more than he ever can, “It’s all about you. It’s all just about your sufferings, isn’t it? It’s all just yours!” 

Why wasn’t he stopping you?

Why wasn’t he trying to fix this?

You wanted him to explain himself and assure you that everything was going to be okay. You wanted to work this out. Good God, you did. More than anything. But what happened to the day when you missed the most important exams for him just because he was too in his head to take care of himself? Where was he? What was he doing? Where was he when you were called to the school’s office because you were nearly falling off school? Where was he when you cried countlessly from overwhelming stress because of that?

Where was he when you were pacing back and forth at four in the morning without a wink of sleep, waiting for him to come back home and wondering to the heavens what the hell had happened to him? Where was he when you felt so isolated and alone? Where was he when your parents turned your back on you for you giving up everything for a boy who already seemed to have given up on you? Where was he to fight for you? Where was he to look you in the eye and give you a reason to keep fighting - to stay?

Jungwon was going through shit. That was something you understood. Something you wished he never went through, something you know he doesn’t deserve. And you were there for him. Every step of the way. But that didn’t mean that you had it all easy, either - did it? Didn’t he know? Or did he just not care? 

You wanted to work this out. But … did he?

Soft, too soft. You could barely hear. “So desperate,” it was murmured. A pause, a shift in movement, and he was gone. 

He was gone. He walked away. Like it meant nothing to him.

It stays, lingering. But he leaves.

You can’t believe him.

So monotone.

So emotionless.

Like it doesn’t mean anything.

He breaks you.

You crack open.

He doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t fight for you. He doesn’t feel anything for you. He doesn’t find a reason to stay. 

He finds a reason to leave.

That was it. And you weren’t even sure if he said it. Maybe it was a flicker of your imagination. Maybe you were going insane, was what it was. Did he leave?

He couldn’t have.

It was the end.

End.

The end of the both of you.

After that end, there was … nothing.

It was the end?

Your weight leans against the counter table in support, breathing heavily. Your heartbeat racing, your mind processing. A minute passes by, and you still stand frozen.

No. The stillness was too much to handle, you needed Jungwon, even if the only words he was ever going to say to you would hurt. You stumbled, rushing after the door as you tried calling after him. You didn’t want him to go. You couldn’t let him, you won’t give up on him. You needed him there. You were tired, and you needed Jungwon.

“Jungwon.” Where was he off to the moment you finally told him how you were feeling? Was it a mistake? Should you have stayed quiet instead?

“I didn’t mean what I said, come back and we’ll talk this out,” you called after him. You would take it all back.

He was gone. 

You turned, and you turned, and you hoped. Nothing. Pitch black. Darkness.

“Jungwon?” you were crying now, crumbling a little. “Jungwon, I’m sorry, please come back, please.” you begged. And you kept calling him, until even the gods above could hear you. But where was he? No, he was going to come back for you. He was. 

He was going to explain that he was sorry and that he never meant to hurt you. He was going to pop up right next to you like he always used it. He was going to smile at you with a cheeky grin and make fun of how you fell for his sick joke. He was going to give you a reason to stay and you were going to be okay.

“I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry,” you shouted after him, numbly trying to follow his footsteps that weren’t there. Footsteps that were erased. The footsteps of someone who promised he’d never leave your side. It was pathetic. Your desperation was pathetic.

Where did he go? Which way did he go? Please show up. Please. Please.

You shivered at the cold. Why was it raining so hard? You could barely see a thing. It was too dark. Not a single light in sight. You didn’t even realize it was raining. But it didn’t matter. You wouldn’t go home until Jungwon was back. And safe. Everything will be okay.

Moments pass and you don’t know if it took hours. Jungwon wasn’t there and you were losing him the way you were losing yourself. “Please,” your voice came out a whisper as your legs gave up on you, falling into your knees, “come back to me,” your body shakes, and that was the end. 

All you were left with was the memories. 

The both of you were nothing but memories now.

Ended because of happenstance.

He was still gone the next day.

And the next.

And the next after the next.

And the week after.

And the month after.

And after that.

You waited.

He promised.

You believed.

Ah.

You felt it, then.

The light you held onto exhaled and took its last breath.

Expired.

When things are expired - when things pass its due date, no matter how much big of a waste it is, or how much you were looking forward for it; you can only throw it away.

Because your relationship wasn’t the only thing gone and lost to disappear that day. It wasn’t only him - or it wasn’t the one thing you cared most about. It was you. You came along with it. You; a simple crumpled worn-out paper thrown away. A rough draft. Scrapped and forgotten. 

He wasn’t coming back. 

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ skin by sabrina carpenter ]

PRESENT TIME, THE FOLLOWING DAY

The group was chatting with each other as usual. You were with Ningning and Seoyeon, catching up with the latest most random topics while you were making it a point to ignore Jungwon’s longing stare. Until Jake Sim takes a glance his way and points out of nowhere, “What happened to your arm?”

He immediately replies, “Nothing.”

When you sneak a glance over at Jungwon’s arm, he catches you and straight away tucks his arm away from your side’s view as casually as possible. Why did he have bandages? Your brows furrowed at him, skeptically surveying him.

What was he hiding this time? 

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.

.

It was in the middle of individual study period when Ningning queries out of nowhere, “Y/N, Is Jungwon trying to win you back?”

A few glances your way at the sudden uplifting noise through the quiet room.

You almost choke. You wish you did. “What?” Loudly whispering, you snap your head over her direction, eyes blazing down at her incredulously.

“He isn’t?” Seoyeon pipes in, questioning incredulously, all the more surprised than you. The both of them were never going to let her newfound discovery of exes that were quote “fated back together” end quote. You stare blankly at the both of them, unamused.

She shrugs innocently. “He looks like it,” she answers her own query and peeks over his way. Explaining, she heaves a casual exhale, “He keeps looking over at you every five seconds with those starry hopeful eyes as if you’d change your mind.”

Your face hardens at the mention of it. You hadn’t told what happened between you and Jungwon to anyone. Once both Seoyeon and Ningning had asked for the details of what happened, you simply brushed it off, not wanting to talk about it. They had assumed something went wrong.

Whatever Seoyeon had in mind to be out of a romantic film - this wasn’t the case. You had no idea what he was up to, but it was most probably something that would put up some entertainment to aid his boredom before he fleets away again. 

She playfully nudged you with the edge of her elbow, “So, what made you dump him?”

She laughed. Loud. She was talking quite too casually that you speculated Jungwon could hear the conversation. His head was bowed, supposedly reading. You couldn’t read his facial features. You don’t want to.

“Poor dude, he looks like he’s had it rough.” Of course, everyone would assume it was Jungwon who was dumped. That it was him who was hurting. That it was him who got the mistreatment. You were the bad guy. In the end it’s your fault.

A chill runs down your spine. You dumped him? You almost laugh aloud in sarcasm, but it comes out as a snort. Waving her off teasingly, you motion the both of them to shoo away, “Shove off.”

Seoyeon gives a toothy beam before scribbling something down her notebook, Ningning peeks over to read it and giggles. You barely catch a glimpse of it.

‘Where there is anger, there is always pain underneath.’

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.

LATER, AT THE LIBRARY

Another day. That meant another meeting with both Jungwon and Seoyeon in the library. After long hours, the group meeting was finished. All there was left to do was to submit the chapter’s draft for corrections to the professor; it had been decided already that Seoyeon and Jungwon were to do it.

You were leisurely taking your time packing up your stuff when Seoyeon hurriedly scurries out on her way to exit the library. “Hey, Jungwon, I’m really busy today, so I can’t accompany you to pass the papers. I just realized I have soccer practice,” she forms her lips into a pout, faking a thought. It occurs to you then that Seoyeon doesn’t have varsity. 

Your eyes narrow at where this was going. “What about ask Y/N to do it? She has nothing to do anyway!” she winks, lightheartedly hitting Jungwon’s arm. He was taken aback, looking confused and somewhat lost himself, but having no choice left other than nodding, he agrees. “Uh . . . sure.”

Seoyeon turns your way and wiggles her eyebrows suggestively at you as soon as Jungwon had himself distracted with the papers in the meantime, giving you a thumbs up as if to say ‘you can do this!’ before slipping out of the room - faster before you could protest.

You scowled darkly, clenching down your jaw. If looks could kill. That girl.

On the other hand, Jungwon continues to arrange the pile of papers with a shuffle before quietly handing them to you, he then started on packing up his things. It was suffocating. Would leaving the room make it seem like you lost this nonexistent battle between the both of you? 

He cuts you out of your trance of thoughts, “You were there that day at the tower, weren’t you?” he asks you out of the blue. He doesn’t even look your way as he stuffs a few books in his bag, and he doesn’t have to give context for you to know what he was referring to. not a look of uncertainty was evident in his eyes, “I know you were.”

Anger starts to boil inside. You have to remind yourself that this is what he wanted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you casually dismissed.

He inwardly huffs out a breath. “Was it tough for you?” he changes the topic, and you swear it was only a matter of time before he gives you the biggest whiplash.

You were raging with endless anger and fury, yet you keep your face was void of any emotions – standing in front of him as his form blocked your path, stressing you even further. You gripped the strap of your backpack tightly, “Move out of my way, Jungwon.”

“Answer me, first.” he pleads with you. “Was it tough for you, then?”

He doesn’t budge and stubbornly remains rooted to his spot.

You grit your teeth, ripping apart your poorly concealed anger bit by bit. Jungwon didn’t care. He wanted you to feel emotion. Any emotion. Even if it was blinding rage. To scream at him and punch the living lights out of him. It was better than receiving your blank emotionless stare all the time. He couldn’t take it.

He was definitely testing your patience carelessly. Was it tough for you? You laughed humorlessly. A stab to his gut. A knife filled with poison. “I don’t know what you want, but let’s be mature people here. You do whatever hell you’ve been doing the last two years, and I’ll continue do the same. Okay?” you spoke, your tone hostile. You take the folder placed beside him before leaving him there, disinterested.

It wasn’t as simple for you as it has been for him to simply walk the relationship off down the drain. 

Not when he promised the world.

Not when you believed him.

Not when he was standing there right in front of you acting as if he didn’t know anything about the shit you had to go through without him. As if he was just innocent. As if he had nothing to do with it. As if he cared. And especially not when he was the one who put you there and left in the first place. 

This is what had become of the both of you. Jungwon and you. Worse than strangers, haunted by what’s left of something that was long gone. 

All he had to do then was apologize. Actually, he just had to come back, and you would do the apologizing for him. You were always the one who gave in, in the end, anyway. 

You would’ve accepted him.

You would’ve even begged for him.

The things you would have done.

None of this would’ve happened.

But.

None of that would work now.

None of that mattered.

It was all too late.

The both of you were just so different now.

.

.

.

LATER

Riki was confusing, truly.

“Didn’t you make fun of me two years ago about how much of a dumbass I was?” you rolled your eyes incredulously at Riki picking at you to how rude you were being to Jungwon, “You hated him, what’s with the change of attitude?” you snort.

Riki shifts his weight, fixing the strap of his bag, “You were a dumbass,” he agrees, pulling a face at you, “and I still hate that guy,” he continues, his expression turning sour at the thought of him, but pauses.

“But you were happy,” he looks over at you deliberately.

 A happy dumbass. You could cringe, that was the old you. The desperate old you. Long gone.

You were most definitely not having it, your facial expression hard. “Did you have a head trauma or something? A fever? Are you forgetting the past two years?” you press the back of your hand to his forehead, checking his temperature and warmth for dramatic effect.

He pushes your hand away, “I’m just saying,” he starts, talking to you as if you were a child, “he left, but he’s back, isn’t he?” he throws his hands around for emphasis.

Then he shrugs, like he doesn’t know any better either, “He’s gotta be back for a reason.”

You don’t care. You don’t care what reason he’s back, or whatever he wants from you. “He can’t just come and go as he pleases, idiot,” you forcefully shrug it off, grumbling. “that jerk made his decision that day. He made his bed and now he has to lie in it.”

And Riki gives up on how stubborn you are, “You really do hold grudges, don’t you?” he ruffles your hair up, amused. 

Strangling a sound, you kick the back of his leg, but he dodges.

Oops, your eyes slightly widen, anticipating a fall. You lose your balance, nearly tripping - but luckily, Riki notices within a half of a second and catches you before your face plants flat on the ground, hoisting you back to his chest by the grip on your waist.

You were going to laugh at your mistake, your face already breaking into a smile - but your eyes catch someone a few feet away.

You blink. Your smile slowly starts to drop at the sight of him.

Of course, it had to be Yang Jungwon.

For a split second, your shock doesn’t allow your eyes to leave his. 

Riki snaps you out of it, releasing you from his grasp and guides you to his side as he slings his arm around your shoulder - like he always does. You’re sure Riki knew well enough and had an idea of how Jungwon looked like. He recognized him straight from the café, and you never questioned how he knew. How were you going to walk out of this one?

Riki doesn’t look at you in confirmation - you have no idea what shit he’s going to pull, but you’re sure as hell it isn’t going to be good.

He nods once in acknowledgement over at Jungwon, but Jungwon pays no mind and choses to ignore him as his eyes flicker onto the arm around you.

Riki notices it.

You don’t know what to do.

“Hey, I’m Riki,” he starts - and for some crazy reason, he sounds as if he was gloating, “who are you?” he throws back casually. Too casually. You would be irritated to talk to him, if you were in his place. The dislike in Jungwon’s features is evident enough. You don’t know what Riki was playing, but he extends his hand out for Jungwon to bro-shake, whatever that could even signify.

A long pause. Jungwon barely glances at it before his attention is back on you, ignoring him beside you as a whole. 

“Why are you with him?” he tries to casually question you - as if he was trying to create small talk - his voice is calm - but Jungwon’s eyes never lie. He could never hide anything from it. You knew that look, and you didn’t like it. It made your blood boil. The guts of this self-centered arrogant asshole. 

Riki answers in your stead, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to answer. He laughs, throwing his head back a bit, “Oh, don’t mind us,” he curtly replies, “my girl over here ‘s just really clumsy.”

You forgot how much of on asshole Nishimura Riki really is.

Riki effortlessly sighs, openheartedly shrugging as if to say ‘what-can-you-do?’. It was friendly, but you understood the underlying meaning. He was testing him. Picking at him. Provoking him. You wanted to facepalm. Provoking was the only thing he was ever good at, why did you even bother? What was this, some fighting-for-the-alpha-spot werewolf shit?

Nishimura Riki, you asshole! 

Jungwon understands the message. A muscle up on his clenched cheek twitches, his eyes slightly narrow. Was he threatened already? You were in a state of disbelief, Riki was barely even doing anything. Seriously. He never changes.

“Why are you with him?” he asks you again, this time his voice comes out somewhat strained in the end. The old Jungwon would’ve probably started a fight right then and there, lacking any sort of composure. Jungwon changed, hasn’t he?

But you have, too.

Riki peeks at you, “Babe? Do you know him?” Confused. Curious. Innocent.

You had to give it to him. Riki was an amazing actor, he could’ve fooled you if you didn’t know any better yourself. 

You merely glance at Jungwon, barely a pause before you answer, “No.”

No hesitation in your tone. A ‘no’ as if he was simply a stranger standing before you. Nothing. You observe how your answer hits Jungwon. How the simple word destructs him. You could only watch. Everything was different now. This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?

But where was the sense of satisfaction?

You tug at Riki’s arm, “Let’s go, you promised me to bring me home today.” 

You leave Jungwon like that. You leave him with the uncomfortable feeling that was bubbling up. Riki is surprised. And confused. You don’t know if he’s still continuing the act when he affectionately waves Jungwon goodbye before immediately following after you.

Yang Jungwon strikes again.

.

.

.

You whacked Riki at the back of his head the moment you were as far from the gods-be-damned-scene and as far from Jungwon as possible, “Idiot!” you hissed, “What the hell was that?”

He rubs the back of his neck soothingly, glaring at you. “You know, just a little ‘thank you’ would suffice.”

“’Thank you’, my ass! I told you to not pull any stupid shit!” You threaten to hit him again, vexed at the stunt he pulled. The situation was only going to get worse from there and you couldn’t take back anything at this point. You retreated your arm, groaning in horror of what’s to come.

“The moment called for it!” was his only excuse.

You scowled at him, as if your eyes could annihilate him at the spot.

You got Jungwon, you had to admit. A few more of these blows and he would leave your sights. This was a bad idea, but your mind didn’t seem to pay any care. 

Hurt him.

Right then and there, your ego allows Riki to participate in whatever crazy-sick game this was. You just needed Jungwon far away.

Riki smirks at you and flashes you a winning smile. He knows you’ve agreed to his idea without having to say anything else. You had no other option, either way.

“You won’t regret this, ___. It’ll be fun!” he singsongs, draping his arm around you.

It’ll be fun, you echoed.

You’ve been lying to yourself for two years, what’s a couple days more to you?

.

.

.

THE NEXT DAY

Jungwon finds you asleep, leaning your head on the desk with your cheek pressed up against the table. 

And Nishimura Riki was by your side, reading gleefully. Mostly watching you sleep. A fucking weirdo, Jungwon inwardly comments. His stomach turns at the sight. His mood has already dried.

He stands there for what seems like a torture of infinity before Riki sees him there. He just grins at him. Jungwon would want to do nothing more but throttle him and that shit-eating look off his face.

“Here for the thesis paper?” was all he asks, he starts collecting himself and his things, preparing to leave, thankfully, Jungwon praises.

But when Riki decides to act like the biggest fucker to piss him off all the more when he leans in to gently tuck back the hair covering your face as as you sleep, Jungwon defensively takes a step forward to you by instinct, ready with a handful of swear words.

Riki notices it, and only press his index finger on his lips, indicating to keep his voice down. Jungwon’s jaw slightly ticks as he stays in place - not risking your sleep.

He pats Jungwon’s shoulder on his way out, but he stops by the door. He motions him closer, as if he were to tell him something hugely important. Jungwon presses his lips into a thin line, walking up to him and trying to keep it as civil as possible.

He holds up a finger, as if to gesture ‘and-one-more-thing’, “Oh, and tell her to keep the hoodie she’s wearing, will you?” 

Jungwon raises both brows in question, and instantly regrets it.

Riki further explains himself, "She likes stealing them from me. God knows she has a whole rack of them on her closet.” He shrugs, a growing smirk on his face. “But eh, I like it on her, it suits her better.”

That little shit.

He was about to give him a phony nod and thumbs up to let the whole agitating conversation over with when Riki presses his luck even further, “She’s pretty.”

God. Jungwon’s patience was running thin, his jaw flexes.

“Oh, and tell her -”

Jungwon nearly slams the door on his face.

He wondered what you saw in that guy.

Walking back with his hands stuffed in his pockets - something he does when he was definitely pissed off, he yanks a chair, face displaying irritation at its finest when he arrives back at your table. He doesn’t bother to spare you a glance your way, he knows you too well.

“I know you’re awake,” he says out of nowhere, his voice tight. “Stop pretending.”

It takes several moments before you start faking a yawn. You could easily fool anyone, but sadly for you, he knows you too well. His glance is blank as you outstretch your arms as if you had just woke up, you greet him as if you hadn’t expected to see him there, “Oh . . hey.”

Jungwon had already looked sour from his encounter with Riki, his pissed off gaze averts away from yours. A muscle from his jaw ticks as he huffs, “Your boyfriend left.”

You nod, blinking as if you were slowly trying to register everything. Jungwon wanted to ask you a flood of questions: what was he doing here? Were you already awake when he was being a creep and staring at you while you were ‘asleep’? Why are you wearing his hoodie -? “Okay.”

That aggravates him even more, and his tone turns curt and strained. “I’m going to work on the thesis. You do whatever.” he dismisses you, heaving a short breath.

He stalks off, but not before grimacing at your outfit up and down - more than fumingly horrified, spitting out through gritted teeth, “And take off that hoodie. It looks horrible on you.”

.

.

.

THE WEEK AFTER

You wake up in Monday morning with aching pins and needles, not being able to move an inch of your body. Your eyelids were too heavy to keep open, weighing tons of your effort.

Of all days, you were sick.

Lord.

Releasing a cough, your hand reaches for your ringing phone. Riki, the contact label name displayed. You try to clear your throat as you answer the call, in effort to not sound as sick as possible. “Hello?” your groggy and hoarse voice could be depicted from miles away by a total stranger. Much less Nishimura Riki.

“Princess?” His voice answers through the call, perceptibly worried, “what’s wrong? You sound . . . off today.” You could tell he was squinting as he said this.

“Uh. . .” you sniffed, trying to come up of a lie, “just watched a sad film. Cried a lot.”

Riki hums, giving no humor in his voice. “Mhm. And that’s why you’re late four hours to class?”

Your stomach lurches. You were what? You had classes today, and you didn’t even remember. Were you missing on anything important in university today? Shit.  

Racing for the most reasonable excuse, “I wanted to . . . enjoy a day off?” Bad liar. You were nothing but a bad liar. You were too exhausted to create a better and more creative lie.

Riki, being way too observant on things he shouldn’t be, clearly wasn’t buying it. He clicks his tongue. “I’m coming over. Don’t go anywhere. Stay in bed,” he orders you shortly before ending the call. He doesn’t scold you or lecture you, and he leaves it at that. 

You moan at the surge of pain once again located in your stomach, you had no plans of leaving the bed even if you wanted to anyway, given your current state.

.

.

.

Riki texts you that he was outside around less than ten minutes later.

If you could complain, you’d rather have Riki come in your room to help you up. Like he always did. You found him not doing so rather odd, as he would always make the weirdest reasons to come drop by your house. Moving the slightest inch was hard as it already was. 

It takes you what seems like hours for you to get out of bed, and even more for you to bag your bag and head outside. You were ready to grumble about how efficient and less painful this would’ve been if Riki had come to help you until more than one figure greets you outside your yard. 

Riki and . . . hands stuffed to his pockets, head bowed - you know that side profile -Yang Jungwon?

Both stayed at opposite ends, standing in front of their cars, awaiting for you with the hardest glares sent the other’s way. What was happening? Jungwon was most likely the reason Riki wasn’t able to go inside your house to pick you up. That was the only factor that made sense - the rest was something you couldn’t connect the dots of. 

Both their cars parked out of your house, and you could feel the tension slicing you in half the moment you step foot outside. These two could never stay in the same room, sticking around to wait for you was strictly meant for you.

Jungwon is the first to break the glaring match as soon as he sees you, being the first to approach you while gently holding you up. 

“Love, are you okay? Let me bring you to the hospital - come on,” he pleads with you, gesturing towards his car. 

“This isn’t the time to joke about something like this in her state,” Riki forces a fake smile through his gritted teeth, irritated as he sneaks his arm around your waist, holding you up himself all the better with a single hand, “just so you know.”

Jungwon’s gaze darkens, “It isn’t about fighting for who gets her, just so you know,” he mimics, “I don’t trust her with you, you dipshit.”

Riki scoffs to himself, shifting his weight as he continues to press you tightly against him, not budging an inch of you to Jungwon, “And look who came to talk.”

Jungwon opens his mouth, his eyes ruthlessly set on Riki’s before you try and weakly cut in from your lack of energy. However, your weak knees give up on you and you almost stumble down, not before both Jungwon and Riki reaches out their hand to grab your arm within half a second. Riki half-yells your name, all the more uneasy and concerned than you were.

“Y/N? Love? Are you okay?” Jungwon’s hostile tone towards Riki not seconds ago immediately dissipates, conveying his tone of worry and panic at your weak state.

“I’ll drive you to the hospital,” Jungwon additionally suggests, trying to have you lean his weight on him for you to stand property, and in that way he could easily carry you back to his car.

“Hell no,” Riki growls, in the other hand.

You notice Jungwon’s eyes darken at the corner of your eye, “And who exactly are you to her to begin with-?”

“Her boyfriend, nice to meet you, you dipshit,” Riki retorts.

Jungwon lets out a low noise, pissed off at a topic that was seemingly sensitive to him. “Over my dead body would you ever be her boyfriend.”

He rolls his eyes in disinterest. “Still going through the stages of grief? Is this the denial stage?” he taunts, clicking his tongue with a tsk.

“Bo,” Jungwon calls you - candidly ignoring Riki’s shitty statements, but his sharp eyes never leave Riki’s, “let’s get this over with and tell us who would you want to -” 

This was getting too prolonged, you were so close to vomiting again. You definitely did not want to vomit here of all places. “Riki,” you called out faintly, interrupting Jungwon, “please take me to the hospital.” 

All parts of your body ached painfully, and you were too miserably ill to deal with this situation. You imagine Jungwon’s expression crumbling, deflating. 

Riki straightens, visibly surprised, but he doesn’t hesitate. Not before giving Jungwon a final look, he carries you with you gently, making sure you were watching your step as the both of you left the defeated Jungwon without another word. 

You were too weak to look back at Jungwon – he helplessly stares after the sight of his girl - his girl - being taken away from him when she needed help the most. 

Again.

.

.

.

You spend three days in the hospital for a diagnosed viral infection.

Thankfully but not surprisingly, Riki stayed by your side through every minute, only leaving for a shower, buying take-out, and for getting you new packs of clothes. It was Ningning and Seoyeon who came over to take care of you during Riki’s leave.

He sticked around from the moment you were submitted, to the insertion of the IV, through your countless trips to the bathroom to puke and for him to hold your hair back, and through your dischargement.

The both of you were on your way to the car to load your things. Riki had all of his hands filled. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot, thanks for the wanton noodles,” you mention immediately as soon as you remembered, “How d’you know they were my favorite?” You don’t recall ever brining it up to Riki.

Instead of bursting up his signature winning smirk, Riki furrows his brows at you, “Wanton noodles? What wanton noodles?”

You perked up a brow, “The one you left by the door earlier when you were paying the discharge bills?”

Riki had nothing. He blinks at you as if you had been hallucinating. “Why would I leave food by the door?” he shakes his head, “Doll, what in the hell are you talking about?”

“The wanton noodles that you –“ You stop mid-sentence, freezing. Realization dawns on you then. The note, you recall as you piece things back together.

Stop skipping meals. I got you your favorite. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me.

Yang Jungwon.

There was no name from who it was from, you had simply assumed it was from Riki. This wasn’t your first time realizing that Jungwon had never dropped by, you had simply figured he didn’t care. Your stomach sinks, ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me’. The double implications.

Riki waves his hand in front of your face, “Earth to princess? Hello?”

Ah. Right. You blink, shaking your head – you meet his eyes with a smile, “Nothing. I just thought I remembered something.”

.

.

.

WEEKS LATER

Jungwon was a lot quieter than usual ever since you’d been discharged.

Since . . . the night he and Riki were there. You slightly wince at the memory.

You almost managed to successfully spend a thesis discussion with him without having to say much - to your great pleasure - until he just had to ruin it for you. He was filling in his part for the thesis paper while you were scanning through the pages of the book you were reading, skipping to the ending.

“Hey,” he starts, humor laced in his voice. “D’you still read the endings of books like you used to? I remember –“

Your head snaps up. You don’t smile. You don’t flush red in embarrassment. You don’t laugh like the way he’d expected you to. The way you always did. You stared harshly down to his eyes. It wasn’t the heart-fluttering kind - nor was it the passionate or the fierce or the loving kind of stare. No, it was a heart-piercing glare - so full of pure hatred, the kind that had his breath hitching up his throat in the worst way possible and his heart sinking into your stomach.

“Don’t.”

Ah.

No double meanings. Nothing else. The essence couldn’t be taken as a mere mistakable, conveyed with just one simple word that held the heaviest weight, yet it was enough for him to understand. He doesn't try to catch himself or his smile as it fades - along with the antagonizing agony that accompanied it.

The light in your eyes has gone.

They were so dark.

It doesn’t shine the way it used to.

He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. He struggles. It takes him two more tries. Two more times of you opening and closing his mouth for him to finally unknot his tongue and drag the words to the surface.

“You have a …” he hesitates to say it, “boyfriend?”

It was so close. A few seconds until you would leave, and he just could wait. Stuffing your university belongings back into your bag, you exhaled, your lips tightening into a hard line. “What is it to you?”

A second or two passes, “Oh,” he replies, “I didn’t know, so -”

“What difference does it make?” you rhetorically question him, your patience running thin, “if you didn’t know or if you did?” You were being absurd - you knew that, but you wanted anything but the idea of having to talk about that subject with him and act like it was fine. 

Being snappy at him wasn’t the greatest idea, but you know Jungwon was trying to get at somewhere. You would do whatever it took to defy him. That quiets him down, only forcing a painful nod.

You needed to leave. You couldn’t stay away from him, especially whenever he was near. God knows only a few words from Jungwon would be all it would take for him to manipulate you back into his strings.

Painful silence.

Until, “Does he make you happy?”

You find yourself freezing.

A sick feeling in your stomach.

Does he make you happy?

Happy.

Why was he asking the question like he meant it?

Your eyes flicker his way, and there is no hint of humor or taunting mock in his face. Was he serious? The man who broke you to pieces and disregarded you stood before you and asked if another man was making you happy, as if he cared. As if he ever did.

You don’t say anything.

You don’t have anything to say.

Jungwon knows that.

You try to breathe.

One.

Two.

Three.

You walk away, and he lets you. You walk away because walking away was the only thing you’ve ever done. Because walking away was the only thing you could ever do around him. Because you can’t risk another goodbye from him.

You were done gnawing back at the past.

.

.

.

[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ spring day by bts ]

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

AFTER THE BREAK-UP

.

.

.

And the both of you became back to being nothing.

Just like that.

You told him your secrets, and you let him in. All the good, all the bad. You trusted him and brought down your defenses. You let him know your weird thoughts or funny inside jokes and the deep insecurities. 

But he never got to know the little things, you realize the moment it’s over. The little things that infuriated you. The little things that made you laugh. Or the little things that would always put you on a better mood - the little bits and pieces of you.

You barely got to know him at all.

Was that the reason?

Was the fact of loving him just as plainly as that - nothing more, and nothing less - the root of it all?

Or was it just the big things that held the both of you together, and the small things that caused you to fall apart?

.

.

.

You don’t believe it’s over.

Because it’s not.

You’ve been stuck inside the house for longer than you could count. You’ve memorized the number of tiles on the floor and seen every miniscule crack on the wall. You know how many steps it takes to walk from here to the door.

And you know just how many steps Jungwon took to leave.

Your eyes remained fixated on the door, waiting at the dining table for him to come home.

Like every other day.

He was still finding his way back home, you reminded yourself.

Busy. He’s busy.

Tick-tock.

He’s on his way.

He'll come back. He always does. He promised.

You form hundreds of thousands of excuses for him.

But the door doesn’t swing open to reveal Jungwon in all form and glory beaming down at you, apologizing, telling you that it was a mistake, telling you that he didn’t mean it. Every day is the same.

But nothing.

Nothing.

.

.

.

Riki knows it’s one of your days.

He reaches for your hand to grab and the fact that you have no response alone proves his assumption even further. 

He doesn’t mind, Riki decides to walk you home.

You have those days where you go completely silent. Worse than ever. So quiet that he could never guess what you’re thinking or if you’d ever come back from it. Eyes empty as if there was no one home. He doesn’t know how he could help you specifically, how he could make you snap out of it.

The only thing he can do is talk. Talk and talk and talk and talk. He talks for hours about anything on the top of his head, and Riki himself is surprised he could somehow manage to not run out of topics to tell you about. 

Even if you don’t respond. Not even a flicker of recognition to any of his comments or jokes.

Riki never knows what you’re thinking.

But this time, that day, he knows it’s about Jungwon.

Someone asked you about Jungwon today. How he was doing, where he is, and what happened to him. As hard as Riki would shield you away from situations such as these, it wasn’t hard enough.

Riki was so close to making you smile the other day. He was finally doing it.

And then he’s back again to square one.

After his efforts of trying to get your attention by the food stalls the both of you passed by, Riki starts to go quiet. 

There is no noise - nothing between the two of yoou. Only the rustling of leaves. The cool breeze of air. The sound of footsteps on cobblestone. Cars driving by. Indistinct chatters. 

“Why are you still holding on?” quietly. So quietly, but you easily catch on Riki’s question. Then your hands slightly tremble.

You don’t answer him, you’re afraid of saying too much. You’re afraid. 

He never said goodbye.

That was your reason.

He never said goodbye.

Jungwon always bids you goodbye, you’d explain to Riki if you could.

What makes this time any different, right?

He won’t leave without saying goodbye. He wouldn’t. Only you could understand.

He never said goodbye.

A part of you still believed that meant he was coming back.

.

.

.

When Riki tries dropping by like any other day - a sneaky reason to check on you, from the start of early morning, he sees you there. 

You spend the whole day stuck in the kitchen.

Riki knows what day it was without having to ask.

By the evening, you bring out the cake that you’ve been preparing for and set it down the table, in front of an empty chair. The chair you never let anyone sit on. It’s still belonged to someone else. 

Riki knows who it’s for.

Your eyes are distant, as if they were caught up in a dream. Light. You were there - physically, but you were far away. Far, far away. Riki started to wonder if this was just how you were. He wondered if there was ever a time where you were really alive. 

He wondered the extent to how much this guy did to break you. 

Your eyes looked so empty.

But you were still holding on, weren’t you? You’ve never responded to him, but he knew. Riki made no noise, but he clenches his hands into fists. You don’t acknowledge him standing there.

You set the candles down the cake with the lighter.

You only stare at the cake, expectantly. Waiting. Waiting for someone to blow the candles off. Waiting to sing the cheerful ‘happy birthday’ song and make a wish. But it wasn’t just anyone. 

He doesn’t attempt to do anything - or say anything. But he stands near close to your proximity. Watching over. Silently. He doesn’t leave you that day. 

You take a seat next to the empty chair, simply and patiently letting time pass as your eyes affixed themselves with the dancing fire.

Until the candles blow out themselves hours later from the cold air. 

That night, Riki also knew who it was for when he heard your uncontrolled crying and broken whimpers pass from your room for the first time.

.

.

.

There was a period wherein you stopped leaving the house entirely. And Riki stopped pushing you to.

Everything reminds you of him.

The house has never felt so big.

Alone.

You miss the way he smells.

The overbearing feelings starts to compress, and you feel it expanding within your chest. It gets hard to breathe. You feel helpless.

Jungwon won’t like it if he sees you like this, wouldn’t he?

You keep reminding yourself.

He might come in any second, and you wanted to be at your best.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry.

You won’t cry.

You’d make it up to him.

You don’t want it to end.

He’ll come back.

He’ll come back.

.

.

.

You don’t know how many months it has been.

That’s a lie. You do.

You find one of the notes he wrote for you in an old shoe box.

It reminds you that what you had was real, that what you had wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. It wasn’t a dream. 

You picked up the first letter, your fingers tracing through his handwriting.

It was painful. A shard of glass piercing through your skin.

To my one and only girl,

You couldn’t breathe.

It was merely the first line of the long letter, and you couldn’t breathe.

This time, you don’t pretend to forget that you aren’t Jungwon’s anymore. You don’t pretend that this was all a phase. A nightmare. A joke. 

This time, you don’t pretend to wait at the living room for him to come back home, swinging the door open with a grin and greeting you from a long day like he used to. Not anymore. Even if you had so much to tell him. So much news to show off to him. So much news to be happy for. To celebrate. But you weren’t.

This time, you almost suffocate.

You torture yourself even more this time. You open the letter again and it rips your heart out. It stabs you and leaves you bleeding. You read the last line. Sealed with a promise. A broken promise that meant nothing now. 

I’ll make you the happiest girl, I promise. I love you :)

You could imagine his cheeky smile as he wrote this, sealing the promise - among with every other one that he’s made. Every single one that he didn’t claim responsibility for. 

Liar.

He was a liar.

He was reckless and a liar.

He broke you to the point where you couldn’t even manage to bring yourself to say his name.

You wish you were brave enough.

What a fool you were.

A dumb, useless fool.

.

.

.

“Kant’s metaphysics?” Riki answers, lying on the edge of your bed. He lounges carelessly with a review paper clutched on his left hand. 

You rest a hand on your hip, pacing around your room. “No, but you’re somewhat close. It’s categorical imperative.” You corrected, recalling your philosophy lesson by memory through mentally singing a tune to yourself. 

 The philosophy oral examination was this coming Thursday that next week. It was Saturday. Riki complained, saying he needed help and tutoring, and you, other than staying cooped up at home debating your life choices and burying yourself in academics, there wasn’t really anything else you did. 

He squints his eyes in confusion, “But how does that relate to the second follow up question after that?” you pause, staring hard at the desk beside you to remember the answer, you take minutes - but nothing.

You run a hand through your hair, visibly frustrated and stressed. You had all the more topics to go through. Hell, you had to go through the whole book and you couldn’t get past the second lesson yet.

Releasing an exhale, you shut your eyes tightly. Shit. Shit. 

Jungwon always knew what to do. He knew how to calm you down and rile you up and make you laugh right after like he was born with it. He’d drop everything at the sight of you overthinking and over-stressing school work, embracing you and telling you that you didn’t have to worry. That he was there. He’d let you cry it out, vent out your frustration and stay by your side through it all, running a hand through your hair soothingly to comfort you.

He knew exactly how to take care of you. 

You need him.

You needed him.

Just for this moment.

How much longer?

Biting down your lower lip forcefully, you chant the words over and over again. 

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

You know he’s not coming back. 

You know.

You’re back to pacing across your room, back and fourth. ‘”I don’t know, I really -” you cut yourself off, irritated. At this point, you’re ready to erupt from the heavy weight of his absence. At this point, you want to drop to the floor and stop time to give yourself a breath. 

Riki has sat up at this point, silently watching you. He’s probably either thinking that you were worrying and stressing over the amount of workload given to you like the usual. Or, does he know that academics isn’t what you were worrying about at all at that moment?

You try to level your breathing.

Come back.

Jungwon, please.

Come back to me.

.

.

.

To: won 😚🙄

[03:46am] you: hi i’m graduating this wednesday. i’d really like it if you could drop by. 

error. message undelivered. try again?

[03:50am] you: hey did you know my graduation is nearing?? haha you should come :)

error. message undelivered. try again?

[05:18am] you: jungwon

[05:18am] you: are you there?

[05:19am] you: you’re gone and i really need you.

message sent.

do you want to delete this message? 

message successfully deleted.

Contact user: [ENTER] 

Contact: yang jungwon

by pressing [Confirm] you are allowing the name changes to be saved.

changes saved.

.

.

.

“The sun’s so clear out. Lighten up, princess ~” a voice calls you out of your thoughts and you realize you were trapped in a dream.

Identifying reality with dreams seemed entirely difficult to you. There was something fiction in the way reality was going to you.

Reality was as crazy as dreams were.

“Your moping is bad for my skin,” Riki comments lightheartedly, scrunching up his nose.

It’s been a week or so since he came along. Since he bumped into you and started to grow interest towards you. You don’t ask him, and you don’t really care. Nothing that every happens around you matters to you as much anymore.

You only blink in regard to him. That was more than a sign of acknowledging his presence that he was used to.

Riki is used to this. He doesn’t mid this type of behavior, nor did he expect anything else. He self-proclaimed himself as your guardian angel – two days after he’d met you – who’d look after you “since you lack the ability to look after yourself” end quote. Which was true. You couldn’t look after yourself. Especially due to the past circumstances that he pieced together himself.

You were probably someone’s ex-girlfriend.

To him, Y/N was a detached-from-reality schoolmate of his who was definitely more than what meets the eye.

You were someone he wanted to get to know, until you stopped becoming that person, one day.

Until you became someone he wanted to protect.

Sliding himself into the seat next to yours, he pouts at you. “Y’know . . . I think it’s time for you to . . move on,” he struggles finding the right word for it. You know it takes a lot in him to try and be gentle, as he probably would’ve been teasing you with a bunch of insults.

Your throat encloses, and you feel like burning up.

Moving on meant accepting that he was gone. Gone from your life. Accepting a future without him, and that wasn’t something you were ever going to be ready to do.

He was long gone.

Jungwon was long gone.

The magic you once felt with him wasn’t there anymore.

He wasn’t there anymore.

And neither were you.

Waiting for someone is painful.

Letting go from someone is painful, too.

But not knowing whether to wait for someone or let him go?

It hurts more than anything.

.

.

.

You were out inside the bathroom for the first time in hours since you’ve left your seat from blankly staring at your phone.

It was all pure coincidence when Nishimura Rik stumbles upon the open phone screen that you’ve been torturing yourself endlessly with.

It was all pure coincidence.

And coincidence just happened to align with his curiosity. 

you: S.O.S. [7 hours ago]

you: come back [7 hours ago]

[Read]

Riki doesn’t have to read the contact name to see who it was.

.

.

.

It must be Riki’s professional job; being the only one around able to spot where you are when you suddenly disappear from the face of the earth.

“Princess?” Riki finally finds you along the benches, alone. He figures it weird, he’s not exactly sure what you were doing there exactly.

Until he sees your face. Your tear-stained cheeks.

Ah.

“It hurts.” Out of nowhere. He has never prepared himself for this. Your voice cracks a bit, “Riki, it hurts.” You plead with him as if he power to take it all away. Small. Helpless. That was what you sounded like.

He offers his open arms to you, and you bury yourself in them. He lifts you up from the darkness, even if it was just by a centimeter.

“I’m in so much pain, can you stop it?” you tell him in a managed whisper, your voice hoarse.

He’s afraid anything he’d say would only break you even further. He only hugs you tighter.

Fuck, why did he give too many shits about you? This wasn’t the least like him at all. What in the world have you managed to do to Nishimura Riki? He stares at you, not being able to do anything.

“Why does it hurt so much?” a small vulnerable child whimpering in pain – pain they were forced to believe was their fault. That was how you sounded. 

He doesn’t know what to say. He’s frozen, in fact. “Riki I want to –“ you pause, trying to start again, “I’m tired,” you struggle with your words, your eyes closed shut, “Please make it stop.”

His eyes flicker.

Please make it stop.

Riki isn’t much of a person who really cared about anyone else’s business. He never poked his nose around because he never bothered enough to. Everyone was black and white to him.

You were a quite peculiar one to him, though. It drove him crazy, what was so good about you? You were clearly dead hungover your past ex. Barely talked. Barely did anything, at all. 

But he saw the most beautiful and vibrant colors when he looked at you in the whole life that he’s been walking around colorblind to any other.

He was just being pulled down deeper.

For the first time, all Riki wanted from someone was just their happiness. Purely. Passionately. Their happiness for his happiness. He just wanted you . . .

He just wanted you.

Nishimura Riki is done for.

If this was what he thinks it is, he’s done for. Because Riki was ready to be anyone you wanted him to be.

You gave be something I’ve never had, he wants to tell you. And I have nothing special to give you - but I will give you everything I have.

He doesn’t break promises. Especially if it’s you.

Riki will mend what was broken.

Whatever it takes.

One step at a time.

He was getting himself into the biggest mistake in his life, God, he sure as hell knew that. But Riki was never going to regret what was to come.

He was going to make it stop. All of it.

.

.

.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

PART TWO

#enhypenwriters #enhypennetwork #kwritersworldnet #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #jungwon imagines #jungwon x reader #jungwon angst #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smau #enhypen jungwon #enhypen au #ni-ki x reader #enhypen headcannons #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen oneshots #enhypen niki #nishimura riki imagines #nishimura riki x reader #enhypen reactions #nishimura riki

[theanimeoftheblackbunnymask]

Yandere Sabo Alphabet

Author's Note: I've deadass been off the rig for like, half a year. I'm lowkey sorry, at some point I forgot about this blog. My creepypasta blog kind of became my main and I wasn't watching anime fr, but I got back into One Piece and Sabo has stolen my heart-

Warnings: Emotional Abuse, Mental Abuse, Manipulation, Physical Assault, Guilt Tripping, Rape Mentioned, S/A implied, Deception, Mind Games, Sadism Mentioned, Burning, Injuries, Death, Two Faced Behavior, Jealousy, Amnesia Mentioned, and Being Held Captive.

Links: {Masterlist} {Alphabet Used}

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

He is very cuddly, I can say that the ASL brothers in general are very touchy people (especially Luffy.)

Since Sabo is often on missions, he doesn't get to see you as much as he'd like to, so when he does see you, he's hugging and kissing you at any chance he can get.

He also loves seeing you in his hat, it's the cutest thing to him.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

The thing is, Sabo is willing to kill for his darling, but I wouldn't say it's messy. I can definitely see Sabo killing a few people while on missions, so I'd say he's pretty clean with it.

Sabo isn't cruel, so he wouldn't kill them infront of you, but he'll definitely make you know that they're dead, and that it was by his hands.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Sabo is scary. He's charming, kind, and chivalrous to the max. He's pretty much every girls dream guy, and when you met him you probably fell for him hard.

Sabo is deranged and unhinged however, but he can hide it extremely well. Once you two started dating and you already went with him to the revolutionary army, that's when his strange behavior starts to slowly surface.

He'd never hit you on purpose, but sometimes his sadism get in the way. He never makes you aware of his true intentions, sometimes he's completely in love with you and your own little golden retriever, doing everything you say with no question, but sometimes when you two fight, he becomes a completely different person. I can see him sharing Ace's temper (despite him being the calmest and nicest brother)

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He is so manipulative its not even funny. Sabo loved playing mind games with you, he often tells you that you knew that he was like this, but you went with him anyway, so technically it's your fault your in this situation, which couldn't be further from the truth.

Sometimes he hates seeing you cry, but when you cry wuth rage in your eyes, yelling at him about how much he fucks with your head and how you can't even remember what really happened and instead you remember the false memories he told placed in your head, he can't help but chuckle.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

I don’t see Sabo being vulnerable with you at first. Most of the time he's vulnerable, it's often with Koala because he trustes that woman with his life, and they're pretty much best friends.

But I'd say the first time you saw him vulnerable was when Ace died. He had so many break downs in front of you and all you could do was try and comfort him the best way you could. Times like those really fuck with your head because Sabo is kind of holding you against your will, mentally and emotionally abusing you, and kind of an manipulative asshole, but the times he's genuinely a sweet guy who just wants to make you happy just pop into your mind and you can't help but hug him and tell him it'll be ok and that it wasn't his fault.

Sabo genuinely wants you to be happy, just his method of doing so is fucked up.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

It only adds fuel to the fire. Sabo is pretty patient for the most part and often wants your arguments to be as quick as possible. But, if you keep arguing and yelling at him, his patience runs thin, and that's when you see his Ace like temper.

You two could go at for hours, and he'll eventually just erupt into Flames (literally) and end up hurting you. He'd end up feeling terrible because Sabo never wants to hurt you (Physically of course), so he'd just stare at his arm, surrounded in Flames, before looking at your curled up position in the corner of the room, holding your arm as you cried in pain.

So yeah, try not to fight with him.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

If you escape, he's panicked. Losing Ace really fucked him up, so you leaving him is his biggest nightmare. If the world government knows about your existence, either as his S/O, or you were part of the revolutionary army before hand, or you were a pirate or something, that only makes his paranoia worse because you most likely have a bounty on your head.

He'd look for you everywhere, that man wouldn't sleep until he found you.

I feel like Sabo has developed a fear of forgetting, so he probably writes down everything that happens to him or other people in a diary of some sorts. So he'd write about each day he looked for you, doing anything he could if there was a rare chance that he would forget you.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

The two of you got into a really bad fight. Like, the worst one you two had ever had.

You were sick and tired of Sabo's lies, his manipulative behavior, and just all the bullshit he pulled on you. At first he was dismissing you, telling you that you were making a big deal out of such a small issue, but you kept pressing him and telling him to stop down playing his actions.

Eventually he started arguing back and things got even more heated, and when he got too close, you punched him right in the face. When you realize what you did, you slowly started to back up as Sabo placed his hand on his face in shock. You've never hit him before, ever.

He started at you in silence before slowly making his way towards you.

"I-I’m sorry, I didn't mean to..." You say over as over again as you backed yourself into a corner, your hmeyes tearing up as he got closer.

He'd grab both you wrist in one hand, causing you to yelp in pain as you cried further. He only started at you with cold eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry... please..." You mumbled, you legs almost giving out as you shoot.

He'd then grab your chin roughly, ans then kiss you. But it wasn't a rough kiss, but a gentle and genuine one. It wasn't like the ones he'd give after not seeing you for weeks on end, but it was different, it was kind. It caught you off guard, why was he so gentle?

But eventually you leaned into it, closing your eyes in the process. He eventually loosened his grip on your wrist, but you didn't feel his hand slowly make it's way to your neck.

"I'm sorry, love..."

Then, his grip tightened as you felt burning sensation on your neck. Before you could scream, Sabo smashed his lips against yours, grabbing the back of your head so you couldn't break away.

Your legs gave out in that moment, and Sabo went down with you. You were practically screaming into his lips, it hurt so fucking bad. So, he shoved his tongue in your mouth as a way to muffle your screams. His hands weren't on fire, but he heated them up so they would burn your neck.

When he pulled his lips back, a long trail of saliva connecting your lips, he quickly covered your mouth as he stared to your pained face.

"I'm sorry," He'd say, wiping the spit away before kissing your tears as you slowly passed out from the pain.

When you wake up in the morning, you don't remember a thing. But when you touch your neck and feel bandages, memories start to flood back to you as you cry into the pillow. Sabo was sent on a mission the same day you woke up, so he was long gone before you woke up. But, he felt fucking awful for what he did.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

World government taken down, his book published, and you two living happily together.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Sabo gets jealous a lot easier than he would like to admit.

When he's jealous, he gets a lot more touchy and often makes back handed remarks about said person.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

When Sabo isn't manipulating you or the two of you a arguing, he's a fucking golden retriever boyfriend. Follows you around, is at your beck and call and will do pretty much anything you want, crazy affectionate, and loves to tease you. If it wasn't for his manipulative and abusive behavior, he pretty much acts like a normal boyfriend.

This also plays a key part on why Sabo is so good at manipulating you. The way he treats you the majority of the time, this kind loving boyfriend, makes you fucking think you're crazy. Like, didn't he guilt trip you into sleeping with him last night? But hey, he gave you the best aftercare of you life, and he got you that jacket you kept looking at when the two of you went shopping. So it wasn't that bad, right?

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Sabo would pretty much go up to you and just start being his charming self. Sabo is extremelylikeable, and he'll get you to blush and laugh a few times. Eventually, he'll start sending love letter to you if you're a pirate or a normal citizen, but even if your part of the revolutionary army, he'll still send you little love letters.

He'll get you gifts and even offer to pay for your drinks if you two ever went out for a drink.

I'm telling you, if you're his darling, you fell in love with him before he started to abuse you.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

When he's upset, yes. Sabo can be pretty unhinged when fighting, but that's about it. When the two of you are just living normally, no fighting or anything, he goes back to the Sabo you fell in love with.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Sabo doesn't actively punish his darling. He actually let's you get away with escaping. But, he does get physical when you piss him off, so that's your punishment.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

You can do everything besides escaping, and telling anyone about his abusive behavior. He'd be so fucking pissed if he found out that you told someone.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Very patient. He had to deal with Luffy and Ace growing up. Luffy's energetic, dumb behavior, and Ace's short tempered, rude behavior made him gain a lot of patience, even if he forgot them for many years.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If you die, its like Ace all over again. He's blaming himself, even if it wasn't his fault.

If you leave and or, escape, he's looking for you. He's not resting until he does.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

He didn't technically abduct you. If you weren't part of the revolutionary army and a civilian, you moved in with him, and when you tried to leave, that's when you realized you were pretty much a hostage.

If you're a pirate, that's when things get complex because if you're not a captain, that's something he'll have to deal with, but if you are a captain, I can't see you just leaving your crew for your boyfriend. So he'll figure something out.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

I feel like a mixture of trauma and the death of Ace.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

If you scream/cry, he'll try to comfort you the best he can. He wants to see that smile he loves so much.

If you isolate yourself after he was on a mission for weeks on end, he'll be pretty upset. He'll keep asking you what's wrong, and he won't stop bothering you until you tell him.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

He's a controlling, manipulative yandere, but the amount of freedom and how you can pretty much get him to do whatever you want is kind of crazy. But he isn't stupid or blind, he'll know when you're taking advantage of him immediately, and that's when he shuts things down.

He's revolutionary afterall, he enjoys freedom, and even though he can't give you 100% freedom, or at least just yet, he'll give you the most he can, but not too much to where you'll leave him.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

His overprotectiveness. He's not only overprotective you, but his friends as well, especially Luffy.

It'd be hard to manipulate this, but if you play your cards right, you might be able to get him wrapped around your finger.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Yes, but not purposefully.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He kind of worships you, but also kind of doesn't. It's complicated. But he's willing to go hell and back to keep you safe.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

As long as it takes. Sabo is willing to wait a long time for you to love him blindly once again, even if it takes years.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Yes. It wouldn't be on purpose. It could be a punishment taken too far, or just the mental abuse.

#yandere one piece #one piece x reader #yandere one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #sabo x reader #sabo x you #sabo x y/n #Yandere Sabo #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x darling